The courtyard erupted in a different kind of noise—the heavy, sustained roar of a SAW. In the chaos, the Aggro shifted. The red glow bled away from Rios and settled onto Salem.
"It’s not 'extra' ammo, it’s insurance ," Salem retorted. He checked his Aggro meter. It was blinking white. He was practically invisible, which meant the insurgents were currently pouring everything they had into Rios’s position. "Hey, Big Guy? You’re glowing like a Christmas tree. Maybe stop being so popular?"
"I’m just saying," Salem smirked under the mask, "this gold plating wasn't cheap. You owe me five grand. Cover the difference, and I'll clear this nest in five seconds."
He reached the perimeter of the insurgent nest. Two men were frantically reloading, their backs to him. Salem didn't pull the trigger immediately. Instead, he keyed his comms.
"Keep your head down," Rios called out, finally moving forward with his shotgun drawn. "We’ve still got a long walk to the extraction, and I’m not dragging your body across the border. Not for four grand."
Salem didn't need to be told twice. While Rios held the line, drawing every eye and barrel in the courtyard, Salem moved like a shadow. He vaulted a concrete barrier, his gold-plated M249 SAW—a customization Rios called 'tactically offensive'—resting steady in his hands.
Army Of Two 〈2024-2026〉
The courtyard erupted in a different kind of noise—the heavy, sustained roar of a SAW. In the chaos, the Aggro shifted. The red glow bled away from Rios and settled onto Salem.
"It’s not 'extra' ammo, it’s insurance ," Salem retorted. He checked his Aggro meter. It was blinking white. He was practically invisible, which meant the insurgents were currently pouring everything they had into Rios’s position. "Hey, Big Guy? You’re glowing like a Christmas tree. Maybe stop being so popular?" Army Of Two
"I’m just saying," Salem smirked under the mask, "this gold plating wasn't cheap. You owe me five grand. Cover the difference, and I'll clear this nest in five seconds." The courtyard erupted in a different kind of
He reached the perimeter of the insurgent nest. Two men were frantically reloading, their backs to him. Salem didn't pull the trigger immediately. Instead, he keyed his comms. "It’s not 'extra' ammo, it’s insurance ," Salem retorted
"Keep your head down," Rios called out, finally moving forward with his shotgun drawn. "We’ve still got a long walk to the extraction, and I’m not dragging your body across the border. Not for four grand."
Salem didn't need to be told twice. While Rios held the line, drawing every eye and barrel in the courtyard, Salem moved like a shadow. He vaulted a concrete barrier, his gold-plated M249 SAW—a customization Rios called 'tactically offensive'—resting steady in his hands.
