Ali was on hands and knees, bleeding profusely and crawling toward the fish tank to retrieve his detonator when Petty Officer Chris Grey charged into the compartment and pumped two rounds from an M-4 carbine into the back of his head.
* * *
Shake Davis scrubbed at the blood streaming down his forehead into his right eye and tried to focus on the bobbing flight helmet that the current was carrying ever closer to the Al Calipha’s hull. One of the shooters on the deck twenty feet above the surface had some kind of small-caliber submachine gun. He was spraying and praying to little effect. The other one had a rifle and was firing deliberate, well-aimed shots, one of which had struck the uprights of the RIB’s canopy and ricocheted to gouge a bloody crease in Shake’s scalp. They were both impe
