Full Assault Mode Read Online Free PDF Page A

comforting to have his grandfather looking over him. He flipped the helmet right-side up and pressed down on the IR glint tape to make sure it was firmly attached, then placed the helmet over his Peltors and fastened the chin strap.
    He pressed the release to lower his NVGs in front of his eyes to make sure they activated automatically and that the compass function set itself. Satisfied, he raised the NVGs back up, locking them into place, then removed the black plastic dust covers from the ends of the two lenses and placed them on the shelf.
    He paused, taking a deep breath and then slowly exhaling. Focus was the key. Details mattered. Rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off would get you a similar fate. Centered and calm, Kolt reached for his HK416 rifle, thumbed the selector switch, and then put two fingers on the charging handle and pulled it to the rear three times to ensure the weapon was clear. He knew it would be, but he did it anyway. You always checked a weapon when you picked it up, always.
    He picked up the last 5.56 mag and inserted it firmly into the magazine well, giving it a tug to ensure it was fully seated, then pulled the charging handle to the rear one more time and let the bolt slam forward, pushing the top 5.56 Hornady TAP 75 grain bullet into the chamber. He tapped the forward assist with his right palm before moving the selector switch to the safe position and closing the ejection-port cover.
    Kolt raised the rifle and powered on his EOTech optics to ensure that they worked before powering them back off. Looking around the room again, he removed the infrared cover from the tactical-weapons light secured to the right side of the upper receiver and pressed the ACTIVATION button to ensure the light worked before placing the cover filter back on. He did the same with the IR laser and floodlight on the top side of the upper receiver.
    Bravo Team was almost ready. The men were going through their final checks, every one of them intent on his weapons and gear. Kolt nodded and tugged on the sling to ensure it fully extended, checked the setting on the collapsible stock, then slid his left arm into the sling and held the rifle just off his chest while he adjusted the sling to snug before releasing the rifle.
    Kolt keyed the push-to-talk button to make a radio check with the team and confirmed all radios were working and everyone was up on net. He turned the top-sided channel selector on his higher radio one click to the right and made a check on “Helo Common” with the air-mission commander.
    “Baller Two-One, this is One-One. Over”
    “Go for Baller Two-One,” replied the chief warrant officer 4, Bill Smith, a longtime buddy of his.
    “Smitty, how’s the snow?” Kolt asked
    “Racer, if there wasn’t an active firefight with wounded, I wouldn’t be launching,” Smitty said.
    Kolt knew it had to be close to blizzard to hear that from Smitty. He decided not to push it.
    “Got it, partner. We roll till you pull. Your call as usual,” Kolt said.
    “Roger, ropes pinned and stowed, ready for customers,” Smitty said.
    Kolt pulled his quarterback armband over his left forearm and opened it to reveal the GTG, grid target graph, of the target area. Reaching the end of the ritual, he turned back to the cubicle and removed the three-by-four-inch full-color, red, white, and blue American flag velcroed to the plywood shelf and affixed it firmly on the Velcro portion on the midchest area of his vest. The large Old Glory was a throwback from the early Delta operators, and Kolt and many of his men felt obliged to follow their lead. Finally, he walked over to the fridge, grabbed a Red Bull energy drink, turned to the men who also had cans or bottles of their preferred energy drink in their hands, and toasted, “Here’s to us and those like us—damn few left!” They chugged, then tossed the cans in the corner trash bin.
    Kolt looked around at the black-clad warriors and then turned for the