M1120 Driver -

A boom rocked the left side. Shrapnel clanged off the armored skin. A tire blew—run-flat, but still. Eva wrestled the yoke as the M1120 slewed toward a ditch.

At mile 438, the forward operating base’s beacon appeared on the passive sensor array. Eva could see the Hesco barriers, the faint glow of chem-lights along the perimeter. She killed the engine two klicks out and coasted—silent, dark, cold. m1120 driver

A pause. “Manual mode is less fuel-efficient and increases operator fatigue.” A boom rocked the left side

There. A thin wire antenna behind a collapsed convenience store sign. She flipped a switch marked COUNTER-UAS . The M1120’s roof-mounted directed-energy emitter charged with a low whine. Three seconds later, the antenna sparked and died. The fake signatures vanished. Eva wrestled the yoke as the M1120 slewed toward a ditch

“Jammer neutralized,” the AI admitted, almost respectfully.

A voice crackled over the tactical channel. “Coffin Nail, this is Watchtower. You’re two minutes early and still in one piece. Didn’t think that was possible.”