Fireplay

As the Humvee ahead of them started to slow, ablaze, and bleeding smoke, Jack reached for the overhead rail, and the driver braked hard. The vehicle skidded and slid sideways, and the road did not give the tyres any purchase. The sound of the locked wheels skidding across the dirt and gravel was one of the worst Jack had ever heard. He wasn’t religious, but he closed his eyes and prayed. The vehicle stopped as Jack opened his eyes and reached for his video camera. He glanced right. The music had stopped, and Ortiz had started to bark commands to his unit over the radio. Jack looked left, over his shoulder, where flames licked at the blackened husk of the unmoving Humvee.

Nobody could have survived that explosion. “Talk to me! Any movement?” Ortiz’s voice was tense as he spoke into the radio. Jack’s mind started to speed up again as the other vehicles in the convoy reported no contacts. It was pretty standard for the insurgents to hit a convoy with one roadside bomb, but there had also been instances where a single blast had been the prologue to a more extraordinary assault. Jack followed as the marines climbed out of their vehicles and formed a perimeter. Jack felt instinctively for the ‘PRESS’ lettering that covered his Kevlar vest as he followed Ortiz to the flamed-out Humvee. He kept filming as he drew closer. Even though he probably wouldn’t use the video, he could get some stills to go with his report. It was hard to believe that four marines had perhaps been talking shit inside the vehicle just a minute ago.