Delta Squad was pinned down in... I'm not sure, actually. I was never really clear on that. But Sergeant Testley was getting ready to save the day by running 880 yards in boots and utes. Let's see what happens next.
They watched Testley disappear into the dark and stormy darkness. Two minutes and forty-five seconds later, the muzzle flashes began to disappear. Captain Owens clutched Testley's rifle in one hand and his own in the other. His cigar had burned down to a little clump of ash, still precariously held in his lips. He waited an eternity for Testley's voice on the radio, thinking of the sweet mods he would get for his new rifle if that voice never came.
But it did. "Oscar three oscar, echo five tango, all tangoes have been beaten to death."
"Coo," said Owens. Then, to Reynolds, "Hey, get a picture of me dual-wielding these M4's."
"I doubt the tactical wisdom of that, Sir."
"Tell that to the Covenant."
Testley said, "Sir, there's something here they were guarding. It's a flatbed truck full of ammo cans. About ninety-one of them. Thirty pounds each."
The ash dropped from Owens' mouth. "Hold your position. We're bringing in the seven-ton."
"Whoa, you never said anything about a seven-ton! We'll stick out like a sore thumb!"
"You leave the orders to me, Sergeant!"
"It's, 'Aye aye, Sir.'"
"'Aye aye, Sir.'"
"I'm not a Sir."
"Just guard the damn boxes. We'll be up there in a minute."
In a minute, Delta Squad and a seven-ton truck rolled up to the former enemy position.
Testley emerged from the thicket, holding a catured Uzi. Owens pointed to a ditch seventy-five yards from the enemy flatbed. He told the rest of the squad, "Take position there, and make sure nobody gets through, especially enemies." He looked over the flatbed. He opened an ammo can, looked into it very seriously, and quickly closed it. To Testley, he said, "We've got to get these into the seven-ton."
"Sir, I think it's time for some answers."
"The answers are over your pay grade."
"They're over your pay grade!"
"Alright, I'll tell you everything. After we're out of danger. Now, this truck bed is at chest-level, but we'll need to fully extend our arms to get the boxes into the seven-ton. Hey, what are you doing? No!"
Testley was opening an ammo can. If was full of 20-ounce bottles of Mountain Dew Code Red. "It was you!"
Holy shit, where am I even going with this? Find out next time!