The MRAP rolled over broken asphalt, causing all of them to jolt in their seats every time it hopped. When the vehicles reached a few meters away from the city square, another siren screamed.
Brann's eyes reddened. "I watched Team Alpha leave before sunrise." He paused, exhaled deeply. "Seventy men moved out. Seventy. We all knew the odds were bad, but no one thought…"
He paused again, then swallowed hard. "No one thought it would go like that."
The soldier sitting next to him rubbed his face. "I heard the distress call myself. Team Alpha down. I repeat, Alpha down." He lowered his hand and stared blankly at the vehicle's floor.
"By the time we arrived, half of what was left were bodies."
"And the Titanaboa was already dead," another soldier stated. "Dead with one clean cut."
"Not one cut," Brann corrected with a tight voice. "He fought it before that. You didn't see the body. Its neck was torn up before the final strike."
