Russell was starting to wonder about the sanity of heading beyond the security of the Forward Operating Base. They hadn't been outside the main gate more than three minutes when the small arms fire started. It pinged off the armored Strykers as harmlessly as the stones churned up by the tires. But it kept them tucked inside the vehicle and peering at the hills through the three narrow slits on each side. The slits were mostly covered by kit - the equipment hanging on the outside of the armor. It allowed a very limited view of what was happening around them and blinded them to the threat of IEDs hidden in culverts and hastily buried in the roadway. "This is insane," Russell yelled over the roar of the engine and the thuds of stones and bullets. "Why are they so close to the FOB?" Andrew tightened his helmet and laughed. "If they were any closer, they'd be inside the wire. This is their turf and we're on it. Remember, Helmand and Kandahar are poppy-ville. This is where all the drugs originate." "Where the bad guys live," Russell said.
