Gunfights rarely resemble the high-octane action scenes from movies.
Under the cover of night, both sides scrambled for cover, firing sporadically in hopes of landing a lucky shot before quickly ducking their heads back down.
Yet, the enemy's combat skills were clearly superior to Miles's group. Their movements were coordinated, their teamwork seamless.
"Miles! Miles!"
The walkie-talkie at his chest crackled to life.
"I'm here!"
Ryan's voice bellowed through. "There are about twenty of them—a full-strength squad! And they're heavily armed!"
"Report their positions!"
"Directly ahead at twelve o'clock, three on each side of the large tree! At nine and three o'clock, there are seven on either flank. They're trying to pin us down at the center while their flanks push through the gate!"
"Anthony!" Miles barked.
"Here, Boss!"
Miles retrieved a construction-grade floodlight from his space storage, along with a large battery pack.
"You take a few guys to Block H, Building 2, Unit 1—it's got the best vantage point. Set this light up immediately. We're at a massive disadvantage in the dark like this!"
"You got it! Leave it to me!" Anthony hefted the battery in one hand and the floodlight in the other, shouting to a group behind him, "You guys! With me!"
As Anthony's team darted away, the enemy unleashed another wave of suppressing fire.
Bang!
"Damn it!" Nathan let out a yelp. "I've been hit!"
Isaac grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down. "Stay low!"
…
Ten minutes later, a beam of intense light suddenly pierced through the darkness from a high-rise across the neighborhood, flooding the area outside the gate.
Instantly, the enemies hiding in the shadows were exposed.
"Shit, take cover!"
A panicked shout erupted from the other side.
Boom!
A sniper round sliced through the air, taking out one of the enemy soldiers with a brutal headshot.
"Good shot! Keep the pressure on! Push forward!" Miles shouted excitedly. "Everyone, regroup on me! Hand out the guns!"
Dozens of brand-new submachine guns were distributed to the students who had been training for over a month.
"Brothers, let's take them down!"
Thomas was the first to raise a gun, nervously pulling the trigger.
"Let's go!"
Anthony joined in with a rallying cry. "We just finished building our wind turbine! A better life is within reach! If you don't want to starve, then fight with everything you've got!"
"Take them out!"
The group, armed and howling, charged out.
This time, Miles didn't stay behind. He moved forward with them, standing shoulder to shoulder with his people.
…
On the other side.
Elliott, the squad leader from the Southwest Base, was in shock.
Dodging the relentless hail of bullets, he cursed, "What the hell?! Weren't they supposed to be civilians? Their firepower is stronger than ours!"
A squad sergeant crouched beside him, his face slick with cold sweat. "Sir, we're exposed. That floodlight has us pinned down, and we can't see their positions!"
"Find cover and return fire! Suppress them and push them back!"
The sergeant shook his head, his voice trembling. "We can't! They're using tactics too. They've got a sniper controlling the high ground. We can't even lift our heads without getting shot!"
Elliott, seething, spat, "Damn those intel officers—they've completely screwed us over!"
In just thirty seconds of the floodlight being turned on, Elliott's team had already lost three men—one killed outright by a sniper, and two more wounded by gunfire.
Ratatatat!
Ansel, somehow armed with a submachine gun, charged forward recklessly, shouting, "Come get some, you little bastards!"
Ratatatat!
Without slowing down, he dived behind a piece of cover.
The soldier hiding there hadn't anticipated anyone daring to charge directly at them. For a brief moment, he froze in shock.
It was only a second, but that second cost him everything. He raised his weapon, but Ansel fired first.
Bang! Bang!
One shot to the neck, another to the left cheek. The soldier collapsed, lifeless, his face twisted with disbelief.
The soldier's companion let out a furious cry and opened fire in retaliation.
Bang! Bang!
Ansel, unable to dodge in time, was hit in the stomach and fell to the ground.
Anthony arrived moments later, taking out the soldier with a single shot and dragging Ansel out by the collar.
"You idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Anthony bellowed as he hauled Ansel behind cover.
Miles and a few others joined them, laying down suppressing fire as they retreated with the injured Ansel.
On the enemy's side, the sergeant reported grimly, "Lieutenant, we've lost two more men! Their firepower is overwhelming, and they've got us outnumbered. This fight's unwinnable!"
Elliott squinted against the floodlight glaring from above, his teeth clenched. "Fall back!"
Relieved, the sergeant shouted, "Retreat! Second squad, cover us!"
Out of the original twenty-man team, only twelve remained after two exchanges of gunfire. Three were dead, and five were wounded.
"They're retreating!"
Miles spotted two soldiers attempting to withdraw and immediately shouted, "Ryan! Take out their leader! Everyone else, charge with me—wipe them out!"
After the chaotic skirmishes, the student fighters, though shaken, began to adapt. Most were still terrified, but a few had snapped, the sight of blood pushing them into a frenzy.
"Charge!"
Dozens of students fired clumsily at the enemy positions, just as recklessly as Ansel had before.
Miles, suppressing a shiver of fear, shouted orders. "Isaac! Nathan! Flank them and support the kids—otherwise, they'll get themselves killed!"
"You, with me!"
Isaac led a group to the right, laying down suppressive fire as the students advanced. At the enemy's cover, five or six soldiers retaliated immediately.
Ratatatat!
There were no elaborate tactics, no difference between veterans and rookies. Both sides fought with sheer desperation, charging into close-range combat.
Within two minutes, both sides had emptied their magazines.
Five or six students fell instantly, but the outnumbered soldiers couldn't escape. All six were gunned down in the ensuing chaos.
Bang!
From the high ground, Ryan calmly took aim with his sniper rifle.
Elliott, the retreating squad leader, was struck in the left arm. A burst of blood sprayed into the air, and he crumpled into the snow.
"Lieutenant!"
The sergeant roared, pulling Elliott behind the shelter of a roadside kiosk.
While the two of them found cover, the remaining five or six soldiers weren't as lucky.
Bang! Bang!
Two were hit while trying to flee—one through the back, the other in the thigh.
Against the AW50's devastating firepower, even military-grade body armor was useless.