"Khilla, three o'clock! Suppressive fire!"
Yves's voice came through the walkie-talkie.
Feng Shan immediately went prone with his MG42, flipped off the safety, and put his finger on the trigger.
At the poachers' camp.
Hiding behind cover, the Red Hat Man set up his hunting rifle while Beard observed with the thermal scope.
"They haven't left. They must be prone in the snow. Looks like they're planning to charge."
A crazed look flashed in the Red Hat Man's eyes.
'Looks like they're not letting this go. They're preparing to take us down in one go.'
'You're forcing my hand.'
He then roared at his companions, "Fire! Hurry up and fire! Today, it's either they die or we spend decades in prison! If you don't want to be dropping the soap, then open fire! Abbot, call out their positions."
Beard knew there was no point in dragging this out. He raised his thermal scope and yelled, "Four... four o'clock, two men! Six o'clock, two men! And two more at seven o'clock, they aren't moving!"
