The cameraman had turned to film the chaos, but after a second or two had decided to run for his life, leaving the camera on auto to shoot scenes from a madhouse. Adira took him down before he made a dozen paces.

The screams of the terrorists were now those of fury and confusion. They had seen their leader shot dead, and now from nowhere, huge men were tearing them limb from limb. Whether it was two or two dozen, they couldn’t know as it felt like they were in a storm of pain, and too late they realized that lions were now loose among sheep.

Sam had smashed down two of the men, kicking a third with his MECH suit leg hard enough to send him spinning fifty feet out into the Tigris. Suddenly, there was an oasis of calm around the big HAWC, as the fighting had been drawn away from him. He looked up in time to see Alex gripping two men, flinging them around like they were bags of meat. Broken bodies flew through the air, and only the terrorists’ wild-eyed fanaticism still drove them on in their fight to the death.

Sam was frozen, watching, as Alex’s face registered insane enjoyment. His shawl was thrown back, and a huge gash had been opened across his forehead. Blood ran down his face, making his eyes seem to glow through the bloody visage. The HAWC leader’s movements became faster and faster, until they became a blur, and the screams of the men he fought were mixed now with the sound of breaking bone and rending flesh.

Sam pushed forward, but Alex was already before him. The rest of the Hezar-Jihadi fighters were just crushed remnants at their feet, with Alex raining blows on the last, the sound a sickening wet crunch.

Sam lunged to grab at him, trying to restrain him, but Alex spun to grip Sam’s forearm. Though Sam was taller and outweighed him by fifty pounds, Sam felt the bones in his forearm begin to grind together. He immediately realized that the person that grabbed him wasn’t Alex anymore.

“Boss!”

Sam grimaced from the pain, and used his other hand to try and reduce the pressure. “Ease it back, boss. We’re done here.” Sam gritted his teeth, waiting for the bones in his arm to snap. He ground his jaw, groaning.

Alex blinked. He looked down at his hand on Sam’s arm, and then into the big HAWC’s face. He immediately released his grip.

“Job’s done. We need to go.” Sam rubbed his forearm, knowing that if he hadn’t been wearing the HAWC armor underneath his shawl, he might have ended up with only one arm.

“Job’s done,” Alex repeated, looking around at the obliterated bodies. He nodded. “Done.”