"Swift, Silent, & Deadly"

Ricochets sing off the steel of the car frame as you and Horton unleash waves of lead on the shocked Cuban patrol. They seem to catapult in multiple directions, some scrambling for cover, a few unlucky ones falling, wounded, into the island dirt. The patrol yells things you can't understand as they return fire. You hear a single word amidst their shouting that makes your spine tingle: "grenadas!"