Blood — so much blood. Lavi had never seen that much blood, that much red. The sound of gunfire echoed in the air, though it could’ve been the flutter of leaves in the wind for how much he noticed it in that moment.
He crouched down low, ducking behind the crumbling cement wall. Dropping his rifle next to him, he went straight for Allen’s body, pulling back the cloth on his stomach to look at the wound. He couldn’t have been down for more than five minutes, but already his clothing was soaked through, and a small pool grew around his hips. The shrapnel had torn right into his abdomen.
Lavi pressed the button on his comset. “Red is down. I repeat — Red is down. I need an extraction team, now.”