Lenihan squinted through the thermal scope. The highway ahead was a graveyard of burnt-out civilian cars—a convoy hit two days ago. But something was moving. A single figure, shuffling between the wrecks.
Lenihan lit a cigarette. “Talking’s for people who get to go home.” --HOT-- Download Film Generation Kill
“Contact,” Lenihan said into the radio, his voice flat. “Possible dismount, two hundred meters.” Lenihan squinted through the thermal scope
“Ravage, report.”
The Echo of an Empty Highway