[h3][b]Joseph Filion[/b][/h3]
Gregory Bainbridge stood near the door, glanced back at Joe as he put the wires away, [i]"you look like you've had more luck than me, Joe."[/i]

"Yea, a wrench, a pair of pliers and some copper wire." Joe rose to his feet to stand with Gregory and Theresa. "I'll give these to Andy when we get back to Ural. He may be able to use these."

[i]"Joe, gimme a sec, I'll go look across the street, Terry, watch my back, would you?"[/i] Grisha was out the door and across the street before Terry or Joe could respond. They hastily took positions near the door or a window peering left and right, as well as across the street in order to detect any possible threats to Grisha's run.

Greg Bainbridge didn't get very far before he decided there wasn't much more to see on the other side of the road. He turned about and called back to the father and daughter, [i]"There's a parkin' lot on the other side of the street and one of the buildings! Wanna check it out?"[/i] Obviously Grisha didn't feel the need to remain quiet amongst the ruins that had once been an industrial park.

"I guess Grish wants us to come up with him. Keep an eye out and stay low," Joe muttered loud enough for Terry to hear him, but not loud enough for anyone else. 

Joe and Terry began slowly trotting, with their backs hunched over. Their weapons were hung low, loosely gripped in their hands. Grisha began walking back towards them. As he continued his movement, Joe heard a peculiar sound. He could hear the engine roaring towards them. It immediately sent a red flag up in his head.

[i]"Hey, Joe, do you hear a motor? That doesn't sound like it belongs to us."[/i]

"Get down!" Joe exclaimed sending the three ducking behind rocks or wrecks, hiding amongst the weeds. Joe recognized the music blaring from the car as it raced past them, hidden in the debris and overgrown weeds. Images of American helicopters advancing on a quiet Vietnamese village filled his head. He recalled watching an old war movie with his dad when he was a kid. It was one of those father-son bonding moments and the song had always given him a good feeling. One of the actors in the movie asked for the song to be played because it motivated his men and scared the [i]hell[/i] out of the [i]gooks[/i]. He didn't quite know what a gook was when he was a kid and didn't understand the reference much. But today, with the [i]Wagner's Ride of the Valkyrie[/i] blasting from the speeding car, he wasn't feeling good about the current situation and hoped he would be able to have more father son bonding moments in the future.
[hr]

The crew of  Ular could now see the rapidly approaching motor vehicle. Everyone had taken up positions inside the tank except Franklin and Joe Jr. Franklin stood behind the 12.7mm heavy machine gun. Joe Jr. lay prone behind the turret with his head and carbine poking around the right side. Both Joe and Franklin immediately recognized the threat approaching them. They knew there was nothing they could do to stop the car. They watched two people, one from the driver's side and one from the passenger's side roll out past their respective doors into the grass and roadway. The car continued to hurtle towards them. The hint of a fire from inside the car could be seen.

"Shiiiiiiiit!" Joe yelled as he attempted to make himself as small as possible immediately behind the turret. Joe hugged his legs in the fetal position as Franklin dropped down on top hugging the younger man as the car impacted with the front slop of the T-72 Main Battle Tank.

The explosion was very loud. It sent a dark black and red mushroom cloud skyward. The noise was deafening and would leave those in the impact area with an annoying ringing sensation in their ears. The concussive blast caused a wave of heat to immediately expand over and around Joe and Franklin at the rear of the tank. It was as though someone turned a large hair dryer on with setting boiling and a quarter of a second later, the hair dryer was off. The concussive blast rolled past them, moving on.

As soon as the explosion passed them, Joe opened his eyes and put his hands to his ears. He could hear the ringing noise and his head hurt. A slight trickle of blood dripped from his left ear; he'd apparently punctured an ear drum. He looked at Franklin as he slowly got off him. Both young men had the widest eyes anyone had seen. Joe then slowly brought himself back to the moment. His hearing slowly made its way back. He grabbed his carbine and tried to get back to where he was; in the prone position looking down the right side of the turret, but he just couldn't get himself back there, yet.
[hr]

"What the fuck!" Joe Sr. yelled. He tried very hard not to swear around his daughter, but he couldn't hold it. It was one of those involuntary reactions. He immediately looked at his daughter, "I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't mean for you to hear that." Joe felt genuinely bad for cussing in front of her.

She smiled and said, "it's OK, dad." She looked back in the direction of the tank and the black cloud of smoke drifting away. "I just hope Joe is OK." Her smile faded as quickly. 

Terry attempted to get to a standing position to head toward the tank, just as her father grabbed her. "Get down!" Joe exclaimed once again in hushed tones. "There could be others around here. Stay down and stay hidden. Keep your ears open and your head on a swivel. Stay frosty. If you see anything or hear anything let me know."

Joe and Terry laid in the tall grass with Grisha behind a boulder looking at the tank, looking at the area in front of the tank where the car had just come from and back behind them where the car had originally come from to see if there were more people around. This could be simply the initiation of a large ambush and the three, no, the eight of them were stuck in the middle of the kill zone.