"The wolf pack has emerged from the cave."
The encrypted channel carried the voice of the lead scout from the forward reconnaissance team.
Milosh Krajishnik did not respond immediately. He lay on the roof of a dilapidated mud house,
covered by a multispectral camouflage net that blended him with the surrounding ruins, making it difficult even for professionally trained eyes to spot a living person lurking 300 meters away.
He slightly moved his right index finger, adjusting the sniper scope to its maximum magnification.
In the scope, the convoy of the Dulaimi Tribe slowly turned at the Dry River Valley exit.
The first armed pickup truck drove out of the valley first, the M2HB heavy machine gun mounted on its rear glistening with cold metallic sheen under the setting sun. The machine gunner was a young man in his early twenties, black hair peeking out from the edge of his tactical helmet, unable to conceal his excitement.
