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The Alamo

“At least the heat has lessened” Said Vallone in his ragged dust choked Chicago accent. “aint so bad now”

“Yep. Now we just surrounded by Skinnies with no water or ammo or NV gear.” Groused the weapons specialist Hank Wilson.

“Here they come again” Said an indistinct voice thru the dust.

Bullets skittered along and through the sandy cement around them. Chunks of concrete and mortar grazed, and thunked against the bodies of the men taking cover in the town called Mogadishu. The fire from the Somalis had increased in volume. This typically presaged a rush on their positions, based on the last 2 hours of contact.

Lt Brown surveyed the scene; he and his men were just a few hundred metres from the other force holding the chopper site. It might as well have been 10 miles. The volume of fire and lack of NV gear meant it was impossible to move from their current location. Lets hope help arrived soon he thought. They all hunkered down in preparation for the next wave of skinnies.

Nothing was moving on the street even in the dark, without being cut down. As the mob of colorfully dressed men approached in the shadows they fired wildly at the squads and fire teams who hugged the rubble around them, waiting for them to close.


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