That, fortunately, should not be a problem. Aajay is the first to do so, calling out in grimly determined Arabic along with Nairi. The other teams are doing much the same, forcing the Combine fire to fly wide and wild. Jan is going through all that remains of his explosive supply, chucking what he's got at the Combine line whether or not it was ever meant to be thrown.

And Gordon has crouched down to one side, hoisted his rifle, and started doling out headshots to the Combine manning those damned guns like the Good Humor Man passing out ice cream bars on a New Mexico summer's day.

Bad Humor Man.

Whatever.