That question was answered as he drew a long, painful breath and staggered to his feet. He winced and ducked at the sound of gunfire on the other side of his rock: four small-caliber shots, two double-taps with just a tick between pairs.
“Shake, you OK?”
He pulled himself upright and peered over the coral rock. Mike Stokey was standing over the RPG gunner keeping the muzzle of a Sig-Sauer semi-auto pointed at the prostrate form. “I’m what passes for OK after taking a couple of slugs in the back. Did we get ’em all?”
“Looks like it.” Stokey shoved the pistol into his waistband and began to climb toward the rock that was holding his friend upright. “How bad you hit?”
“Won’t know until you can help me peel off this body armor. Feels like I might be bleeding some down my back.” Shake had b
