He squeezed off another two rounds before ducking around the corner. He was not sure, but judging from the German swears at least one round found its mark. No one seems to be complaining about my shots being about an inch too high.
Murphy fired off a white flare. It lit up the path along its trajectory, travelling in a high arc before burning out. We don’t want to bring down artillery on our position… yet.
Three minutes…
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
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