325
You take aim at the clansman’s chest and pull the trigger. Your gunfire hits him squarely in the torso, the force of its impact knocking him flat on his back. (Remember to deduct the relevant number of rounds from your Ammo Pouch.) He does not get up. Like a bounding lion, Rickenbacker hurries towards the ditch and leaps in to land by your side as the first of the dead clansman’s confederates comes running across the bridge. Then there is a jarring boom as the truck explodes with a brilliant flash of bright orange flame.
‘What the heck … !’ you gasp, stunned by the unexpected force of the explosion.
‘They had a keg of blasting powder in the back,’ cries Rickenbacker, shouting to make himself heard above the rumbling echo of the explosion. ‘So I lit the fuse!’
As the dust clears, the clansmen struggle to their feet and run towards the blazing remains of their truck. As they get nearer, you grit your teeth and prepare to open fire.
