"Muthafucka." There wasn't much time to pick a spot and get ready to hand Bobby more belts, but he made sure to find themselves a nice little mound in the ground to work from, because the one thing you wanted in combat was something to put your head behind if you had to. There were targets there, but nothing quite in range for his shotgun, and they were cut off, so wasting ammo wouldn't get him chewed out, it'd get him in deep shit if he wasn't careful.

The Sarge called for rapid suppressive fire, and the way the two of them worked was that Buck would spot them and call out how far to adjust the MG fire, because he was generally keeping eyes out for any threat to their actual position, as well as blowing away anything that got too close.

The AK had a distinctive sound compared to an M-16; a slower rattle of fire that you knew instantly as AK-47 fire once you'd heard it a couple of times. That shit was firing in their direction, followed by the impact of rounds nearby, "Ten-thirty left!" Barnes howled as they dropped behind the cover for a second, listening to the rounds thwack into the dirt berm they were making themselves small behind. 

He was waiting now, his shotgun clutched in hand and him rolled over onto his side, ready to jump up and zap any Charlie that got too close when Bobby poked the pig out and started firing again.