"Christ! Did she manage to trip two of the damn things?" Derek yelped, the rust of the fire escape's ladder biting into his hands as he swung down from his perch. The first aid kit he'd slung across his shoulders on a whim as he'd headed out of his RV earlier smacked into the back of his head as his feet hit the ground with jarring force, already propelling him towards the disabled car.
His rifle found its way into his hands almost without him realising it, the familiar weight a comfort as fire and smoke carried him back to a time before all this. This time there was no reassuring weight of flak helmet and vest protecting him from the hot debris still raining down from the explosion as he forced himself towards the fire. He'd spent enough time over in Iraq and Afganistan to have seen more than his fair share of IED hits on convoy - some of which he'd even been riding along with - and the sight of one here, on what used to be the self-same sovreign soil that he'd signed on to fight for made his stomach churn uncomfortably as he ran.
He forced it down, wrenching his thoughts into the here and now more from sheer will and cussedness than any real control on his memories. The rifle came up to his shoulder without conscious thought as he moved, eyes scanning the limited sightlines for enemy movement. His heart raced in his ears, almost drowning out the crackle of the fire burning around them.
Movement caught his eye by the car and the rifle's barrel swung to point at it before it truly registered in his mind. "Got eyes on her!" he barked, the barrel dipping slightly but not leaving his target until he was certain Roman had her secured.