Puller was about to get out of his car when he heard it.

 

Screams and gunfire.

 

Coming from the vicinity of the Grunt.

 

He jumped out of his car, pulled his weapon, and, like he always did, sprinted

toward, not away from, the violence.

 

Chapter 45

 

IN SOME WAYS it could have been a street in Tikrit or Mosul.

 

Gunfire, smoke, screams, the darkness broken by the bursts of fired rounds. The

only thing missing was the earsplitting bang and concussive punch of an IED.

 

Puller came around the corner and immediately narrowed his target silhouette by

shifting to the right. He also kept low, gripping his M11 with both hands. He

did arcs with his weapon, looking for targets and trying to discern who was

dangerous and who was a victim.

 

There were people lying in the street.

 

He stopped, took cover, and punched in 911. He identified himself to the

dispatcher, taking only two short sentences to report who he was and what he was