Seal Team Seven (2011)
Seal Team Seven
““Okay, people,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Hit it again. Four-man entry, door center, buttonhook.”
They were standing outside the NSWG building variously called the “fun house” and the “killing house,” part of the SEALs’ Little Creek training facilities. They were tired, all of them, and their faces were coated with greasepaint and gunpowder. Their bodies seemed bent beneath the weight of their gear, combat blacks and full harness, Kevlar vests, safety helmets, and tactical radios. ...Murdock had been running the platoon since daybreak, literally and figuratively. Gunfire banged and crackled in the distance—First Platoon practicing on the outdoor firing range. It had been a long day already, and it would not be ending at five o’clock.
“First four up,” Murdock continued. “Let’s have Roselli, Garcia, Higgins, and Brown.”
“Aw, man, Lieutenant,” Brown said. “I’m a sniper, not a God damned door kicker.”
“You heard the lieutenant,” MacKenzie said softly.MoreLess
They were standing outside the NSWG building variously called the “fun house” and the “killing house,” part of the SEALs’ Little Creek training facilities. They were tired, all of them, and their faces were coated with greasepaint and gunpowder. Their bodies seemed bent beneath the weight of their gear, combat blacks and full harness, Kevlar vests, safety helmets, and tactical radios. ...Murdock had been running the platoon since daybreak, literally and figuratively. Gunfire banged and crackled in the distance—First Platoon practicing on the outdoor firing range. It had been a long day already, and it would not be ending at five o’clock.
“First four up,” Murdock continued. “Let’s have Roselli, Garcia, Higgins, and Brown.”
“Aw, man, Lieutenant,” Brown said. “I’m a sniper, not a God damned door kicker.”
“You heard the lieutenant,” MacKenzie said softly.MoreLess
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