Chapter 155: Fire in the Hole!!!

Jack's speed was astonishing, and he quickly outpaced Walker and his son, disappearing from their view after a single burst of acceleration. The desert terrain, though sparsely vegetated, had some tall cacti and shrubs that obstructed the view.

The sound of gunfire had already turned into a cacophony. Among the shots, Jack could distinguish the sound of Hannah's Glock, but the enemy's gunfire was even more intense, with at least four or five handguns firing in their direction.

"Hannah!"

Jack was frantic. He skirted around a thicket and saw three figures ahead: the bar owner Jerry and Stella, half-carrying and half-supporting Emily, who was stumbling towards them. There was no sign of Hannah.

Emily clutched her right abdomen, blood seeping through her fingers. Jack rushed to support her, laying her flat on the ground. He quickly cast a healing spell to stop the bleeding and urgently asked, "Where's Hannah?"

Emily was in too much pain to speak. Jerry, panting heavily, pointed back. "Hannah stayed behind to cover us. There are many of them, just down the slope. You need to go help her."

Jack took off his jacket and placed it under Emily's injured side. "Try to stop the bleeding. I'll go help Hannah."

Hannah's Glock was still firing, indicating she was holding her ground, but Jack couldn't waste any time. The primary organs on the right side of the abdomen are the liver and kidneys; as long as he could stop the internal bleeding, Emily's life wouldn't be in danger.

In the original story, Emily died after encountering drug traffickers alone and was silenced. Jack had arranged this group outing to avoid such a scenario, but even with four of them together, something still went wrong. At least now, he could take the opportunity to solve the problem completely.

Walker and his son arrived just then. Seeing Emily injured, Augie turned pale, while Walker's face darkened. He knelt to check on his wife's wound.

"Augie, give me the gun."

Jack grabbed the AR-15 from Augie's shoulder, checked the magazine, which held standard NATO 5.56x45mm rounds, and loaded it. He then jogged towards the direction of the Glock shots, staying low.

He hadn't run more than 50 meters when he spotted Hannah crouched behind a rock in a thicket, pinned down by gunfire. She could only occasionally extend her hand to fire blindly, with an empty magazine lying beside her.

"Hannah, are you okay?"

Jack dropped to the ground and crawled towards her. Hannah glanced back at him and shook her head. "I'm fine. There are five of them. I'm out of magazines and only have three rounds left."

Jack handed her his FK 7.5, along with two spare magazines. "Cover me. This gun has a bit of recoil, so be careful."

Hannah nodded, putting away her Glock and switching to the FK 7.5.

The enemy, sensing the lull in return fire, ceased their own shooting. Someone shouted in Spanish, urging their comrades forward.

Jack rolled sideways several times, taking cover behind another rock. He peeked down the slope, noting that dusk had fallen, but there was still enough light from a waning moon for his enhanced senses. About 200 meters away, on the foot-worn trail, he saw a Toyota pickup with two men retrieving rifles from the truck bed, likely to provide cover for their comrades.

Closer, about 100 meters away, three men with handguns were nervously peeking from behind rocks.

Holding his breath, Jack aimed at one of the two men by the truck, who was loading his rifle with the muzzle pointing up, and squeezed the trigger steadily.

With a scream, the man clutched his waist and fell, dropping his rifle. However, he was quick to crawl behind the truck's tire for cover.

"Damn it," Jack cursed silently. Although he had used iron sights, it wasn't entirely his fault; the rifle's inaccuracy reminded him of issues with older models like the Chinese Type 88 sniper rifle.

The other man by the truck didn't return fire immediately. Instead, he quickly hid behind the engine block, not daring to show even a bit of himself.

Meanwhile, Hannah's FK 7.5 roared, its deep, powerful shots a stark contrast to the Glock's clatter. Her first shot hit a man partially exposed, dropping him instantly. Several more shots followed, tearing his body apart. At this range, the 7.5mm rounds' devastating power was undeniable. The man didn't even manage a full scream before going silent.

The remaining enemies panicked. They had initially thought the lone Glock was out of ammo. But within minutes, another rifle and a new, intimidating gun sound had joined the fray.

As Hannah suppressed the nearer enemies, Jack aimed at the pickup's tires, firing four shots that hit their mark, flattening two tires.

Since they were already here, he decided none of the assailants should escape.

The tide had turned. Hannah's FK 7.5 kept the two remaining foes pinned down. Jack, seeing no movement from the man behind the truck, scanned the surroundings with his peripheral vision. He picked up an egg-sized rock from the ground and dashed forward.

His AR-15 had no spare magazines, so Jack couldn't waste ammunition. Staying low, he counted Hannah's shots, and when she shouted "Reloading!" he darted behind a large rock.

He wasn't sure of the world record for the 100-meter dash, but in less than ten seconds, he had covered nearly 80 meters, crouching all the way. Now, he was within 20 meters of the nearest enemies.

Estimating the distance and direction in his mind, Jack hurled the rock backwards and shouted, "Fire in the hole!!!"

The sudden yell and the sound of the rock hitting the ground startled the two men, who screamed and started running. In the next second, Jack emerged from behind the rock and fired twice, hitting one in the head and the other in the back.

He walked over to the man he had shot in the back and delivered a final, fatal shot.

"Come out or I'll come for you!" Jack shouted, standing by the pickup and addressing the two hiding on the other side.

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