Varo had been watching the road since the squad took position.
His men lay spread in a line twelve meters back from the edge of the path. Far enough into the autumn foliage that the forest broke up their silhouettes. Close enough that a rifle shot fired from here would hit anything man-sized moving along the worn earth below.
He had chosen the placement himself when they reached the place. He and Brek had walked opposite sides of the track, counting distance, considering sightlines.
The position needed two things at once, concealment and a clear field of fire. Too deep in the trees and they would lose visibility. Too shallow and the enemy would catch movement before the volley.
The kill zone lay where both firing fields crossed. Four meters of packed earth. Any hostile force moving through that stretch would take fire from both sides at once.
Sounds from camp one had been carrying through the valley ever since the assault started.
