Thumper was loaded, but Dodge transitioned to his M16. Selector was set to semi auto with the flick of a thumb and he sighted up, getting his sight picture. Edging around the right of his tree, he poked his barrel out and waited for Charlie to pop his head out. One did, the coolie hat popping up just enough for eyes to peer over the log. Giving a partial exhale, and feeling his pulse he waited just long enough to catch the space and squeezed on the trigger. The gun barked and bucked once, but not nearly as bad as some of the hunting rifles he'd shot back home. 

His aim was for the brim of the hat. Aim small, miss small. Least that was what he had been taught. A dark spot appeared on the straw hat just above the brim, centerline just before it disappeared below the log. "Come on," he said quietly, his voice low, barely above a whisper. [b]"Step out and meet Jesus..."[/b] he challenged Charlie across the wya though mostly he was talking to himself. 

Just as he suspected another was bout to pop up for a pop shot, he squeezed the trigger again. Becca bucked against his shoulder, spitting a little bit of brass off to the side. Air was the only thing in the immediate vicinity tha he hit, but it might well make them keep their heads down.