It didn’t take long for them to determine that the squads from Alpha Company’s third platoon manning Checkpoint 35 were being hit hard. Over a roar of gunfire, a squad leader reported his position was being attacked by at least twenty or thirty shooters with AKs, machineguns, and RPGs. Shouting into the radio, he reported that the attackers had detonated at least three satchel charges that had collapsed one wall of the building that anchored the CP 35 position. He also indicated the attackers they could see running in the dark were wearing some kind of distinctive headbands and mottled camouflage uniforms.
“Murabitun.” Gunner Shake Davis tossed the handset back to Grey. “That’s their uniform.” He turned to stare in the direction of the firefight and chewed on his lip. “It’s a little less
