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After catching a few hours of decent sleep, you meander into the vehicle bay. The main doors were open now, allowing the cool desert air to whisk away the smell of metal and jet fuel.
Your gunship is a hub of activity. System engineers cluster around the chin-mounted sensor suite, swapping in a high-gain IR filter suited for fog penetration. Meanwhile, technicians – wearing bright red hazard informs – begin filling the internal tanks with pressured fuel. An assortment of air-to ground munitions sits in a pallet nearby, patiently waiting to be loaded.
To the right of the gunship, a similar scene plays out around a pair of fat-bellied transports. You jog over once you recognize a few familiar faces.
Carter gives you a lazy wave as you approach; Popov manages a polite nod.After exchanging a few greetings, Carter calls several of his men over.
“…and we’re taking this old thing with us, thanks to your tip-off.”
The two grumbling soldiers manhandling the weapon place it on the ground.
“Missile Launcher?”
Carter smiles. “Well...close enough. It’s a recoilless rifle if you feel like splitting hairs. But look at these.”
He shows you a box filled with off-grey shells. “Canister shot and good old willie-pete. If it worked for my old man when he was out in the middle east, it’ll do the job here. Closest thing we could get to a flamethrower on a short notice.”
Popov sighs. “’We’ll be carrying the shells for it, so it won’t slow anyone down. You can’t imagine how much my driver bitched about it, though.”
He gestures towards a rather slight looking IFV sitting next to the loading ramp. Seeing your concerned expression, he tries to explain:
“She’s light, but her armor’s thick where it counts.” He raps the glacis plate. “Engine’s good too. Not easy to hit.”
Popov knocks on the hatch twice. A few seconds later, an oil-stained, freckle-faced youth pops out from the driver compartment. “Dmitri! What’s she got under her skirt today?”
“Incendiary and armor piercing, sergeant. Even mix, just like you asked.” He gives a proud grin. “I just tested the feed system a few minutes ago.”
You notice that his English is quite heavily accented. Popov simply shrugs. “Thank you for the information, pilot. The…employer…here have always been quite stingy with their intelligence. Then again, not to different from my old commanders.”
