Filippov's squad was pinned down by a Prosen machine gun in a courtyard by the side of the road.
"Explosives!" Filippov turned and shouted, "Blow up the wall next door! We'll encircle the enemy!"
The sapper spread his hands: "All gone!"
Filippov cursed "Damn it," and then pointed to the residential building behind them: "Go see if there's another door, or a place we can climb over the wall!"
Immediately, two soldiers carrying bolt cutters rushed toward the house. The one in the lead kicked the door open with a flying kick, and then both entered, one after the other.
Filippov leaned against the courtyard door, took out the spoon he carried with him, and used the shiny back of the spoon as a mirror to observe the fire point position. To his surprise, the moment he stretched out the spoon, it got shot away.
His finger was also nicked by the edge of the spoon, and he started to bleed immediately.
"Damn it!" Filippov cursed again.
Then he heard the sound of engines.
