[center][h1][color=7E1B1B]Marcus Williams[/color][/h1]
[img]http://38.media.tumblr.com/741694939d978dba5a54eb7509dbfff3/tumblr_n4p47wgx881re995yo1_500.gif[/img][/center]
[center][color=7E1B1B][b]Location:[/b][/color] Near Markada, Northeastern Syria
[color=7E1B1B][b]Interacting With:[/b][/color] YPG fighters [@AbandonedIntel][/center]

Pulling out the tube of his grenade launcher, he let the empty shell drop out to the ground before pulling the tube back down without loading another, adjusting his grip with both hands to fire normally as a few more Jihadi's ran through the gates. Bringing his weapon up to aim, he began lining up a shot but was interrupted both by the radio, and by the explosion ahead of them. A bit of shrapnel managed to catch Marcus' helmet, and his head reared back as he fell, he was fine, but it'd certainly given him a little whiplash as he scrambled back into cover, tapping his helmet to make sure it was still there. It was, but there was a clear gash down the left side of it now.

Letting out an audible sigh of relief at his luck, he popped up again with his rifle, firing a few shots at the incoming Jihadi's, specifically the one with the RPG, before he let the YPG focus on them, picking up the designator again. He took a moment searching for his target, but as the mortars fired again he saw the puff of smoke from them, he couldn't quite get an angle from where he was, he needed to move in order to do that. He barely thought, and didn't even particularly bother to explain his plan. [color=7E1B1B][b]"Cover me!"[/b][/color] He called back to the fighters he was with as he sprinted out of the cover of the truck toward the road, he was in the open, but he wasn't going to get a better angle than this one. 

Crouching down in the crater created by the mortar, he brought the designator up to his eyes and found his target again. He held it ready and began to paint the target. Around him bullets were whistling and hitting the ground, he was an easy target where he was, so of course the Jihadi's were focusing on him, but he didn't care, he was focused on his mission as always. He waited for confirmation before he finally put the designator back down, moving toward the closest cover he could get to before he felt it, the sharp sting and the tremendous force as if he'd been cut, burnt and punched all at once. The force of it spun him somewhat as he fell into cover, looking down to his arm.

His shoulder had been hit, not too badly, and it appeared that most of it had been on the outside of his shoulder, but it hurt. He was just thankful that the relatively minor wound was all he suffered for, what he realised now, was either an incredibly brave, or more likely, horrendously stupid move.