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From the north side on the slightly elevated balcony, the combined tumult of the drone and responding assault team gunfire has provoked the Nightwolf-2 machinegunner into action; he is firing hundreds of rounds into the wall of smoke and debris to the west created by your grenade detonations, and you witness a clattering shower of spent ammunition belt links and ejected smoking cartridges raining down the stairs, as the barrel of the Mk48 begins glowing red with heat. The gunfire is so fast and deafening it almost sounds to your ears like a nonstop screaming chirping sound. You feel as if your head has been entombed inside a metal gong, being struck with hammers 650 times per minute.
