Though she felt a bit like a hypocrite for laughing, as had it been her up on that dune and had it been a snake instead of a spider, everyone from Dakar to Cairo would’ve probably known exactly where they were, she couldn’t help but chuckle at Coghlan’s misfortune. The muffled snickering quickly went away when Coghlan’s report came through. Three cars, approaching fast, unknown numbers- mounted MG? Mounted MG. If it was a PKP or something similar, okay, bad enough. If that was an NSV or some other nightmare? Katya gave the Nimr another glance, wondering whether the Saudi-made vehicle would be sufficient cover and whether it would live to tell the tale. In 1914, it would be more comforting to think they outnumbered the enemy three to one in machine guns. “So, the titanium plates in these vests are good for shrapnel and nine mil and sod else...” Katya said idly as the sound of the engines built up in volume.

The Russian shouldered her rifle and followed the repositioning Nimr - careful to keep her feet away from the wheel - and looked to where she thought the engine noise was coming from behind the dune, waiting for the inevitable. Then Immortan Joe’s party flew into view - and of course it was the worst case scenario. [i]“Tvoyu mať, dushka!”[/i] she cursed as she repositioned to the back of the Nimr that was parallel to the dune as that gave her cover from two directions, briefly forgetting there was only one other person who’d understand the warning, but the spirit of it probably transcended the language barrier.

The familiar sound of an SVD signalled the start of the bout. Brick managed to stop the Ford before she could get a shot out, saving her a few rounds for later. Instead, Katya shifted her aim intent on addressing the problem that was the flanking Lada, specifically its driver. She turned to face it and dropped down to a crouch, the Nimr fully shielding her from fire coming from the two stopped vehicles. Poking out only as much as she needed to see the Lada, she let loose with semi-auto fire as soon as the front windows came to view, minding that she only had a measly ninety rounds. The Lada swerved to the side and finally stopped four rounds later, letting Katya adjust her position to put more of the Nimr between her and the other bastards in the Lada. Their rounds were getting a bit too close for comfort now. Betting on a combination of training after a year-long hiatus and being a small target in the dark was far from ideal, but that was the general theme of their current predicament. Then a metallic ‘ding’ clearly heard over the gunfire, signalled a close hit on the Nimr. Unfortunately, the vehicle’s occupants were smart enough to keep at least one weapon firing at all times. “Fuck it,” she growled as she fished a grenade out of a pouch, straightened out the pin andn pulled it, “Frag out.” She cautioned the squad over the radio, turned where she remembered the Lada to be and tossed the RGD in a high arc, aiming to land it so the car would be between the grenade and the Nimr’s.