[ WP ] A small squad of soldiers gets the drop on a large enemy force .

> 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marines; quantity force: 2 
 
 It was only the Squad's Automatic Rifleman and the Designated Marksman that were left. They were huddled up in the rocks, and the enemy was combing everything over. Not a hair to be seen, except for that of the fallen Timberwolves. The Automatic Rifleman fixed the boonie hat - like the Designated Marksmans, though he had a shemagh over his mouth - before looking around for a few seconds. Nobody had passed. 
 
 Dust blew over the sand, setting a better scene for the Designated Marksman. He looked over, placing a hand in the air. It closed into a fist - calling for attention from the Automatic Rifleman. Ranks did n't discern them, they were both Lance Corporals. 
 
 The Marksman lifted his SAM-R slightly in one hand. He made a notion to set a strike - *or suppressing fire* - on the spread out force of forty that had taken down their friends. 
 
 Fire spread amongst the air as the M240B's barrel began releasing howling rounds. Soon after, loud, although slow shots from the SAM-R began popping out. Recreating the punching outwards and gripping inwards signal, he then pointed towards a fragmentation grenade on his own vest. He had to return his focus, quickly, firing a few rounds. 
 
 Men were dropped left and right, were they the Timberwolves who had fallen for these two Marines, now living to give it all against forty armed men. The SAM-R eventually unloaded, so by instinct the Lance Corporal withdrew his M9, firing a few rounds. Not very many hit, one egging a man in the arm. 
 
 It was n't going to be much, but the force that was trying to respond had only just then seen at least one of them - the Rifleman, who was reloading. The belt was n't fitting right. The Designated Marksman pierced the air with one more round from the 9mm, and then threw it towards his ally and bashed his rifle to unjam a round. 
 
 Each 5.56mm round that expelled itself from the SAM-R's chamber, was dwindling their resources. The Marksman rose slowly, entering a standing posture as he fired. 
 
 The enemy force dwindled, next, to about ten men. However, once this milestone was achieved, seven rounds ripped into the Automatic Rifleman. Within this contact, it went up from the chest until, yes, he had fell. 
 
 Left alone, the Designated Marksman pegged out four more rounds and then had to withdraw his knife. A round clipped his shin, and he drew the blade back and went into the neck of one of the standing hostile infantry. Once it was removed, he used them for stability, throwing the blade. 
 
 Two more rounds pressed into his chest, leaving another force of two, amongst many more fallen bodies - however no more Timberwolves to run this troop down. The surviving Designated Marksman and Automatic Rifleman had failed, making way to a Afghan Rifleman duo. 
 
 *They had the drop, but they failed. *
