Claire slid into the ad-hoc trench Jackie had made as far away as she could from Mason's position. She was annoyed at having to follow the directions of the over-organized soldier. Even if it was the right course of action, she couldn't help but be angry about doing it. However, when the alternative was getting shot, she could make an exception. Even if doing so did make it incredibly tempting to send a round into the man's back.
The waste of ammunition that doing so would be, however, argued against it. There were perfectly serviceable victims shooting at her right that moment. The demons could actually kill her, and could actually be killed themselves. The sensible and proper thing to do would be to fire back at them. Knowing that just made the temptation to jam the muzzle of her rifle into Mason's side and empty a magazine that much worse, though.
Snarling at her inability to shoot her supposed comrade in the back with any likely effect, Claire regrettably decided that the second-best choice was better than not winning anything in the game of killing. Claire slid the tab on her sight forward and then leaned over the trench.
Her shots were stress relief more than anything else, sent to make her feel better rather than do any real damage to the aerosanis--which were just as ridiculous-looking as she'd imagined they would be. She didn't see any immediate effect from the dozen or so potshots she'd taken, not that she'd be able to through iron sights at the range the sleds were still at. But it did make her feel better.
Claire ducked back into the bottom of the trench before the return-fire could endanger her own precious self and began crawling sideways so she wouldn't appear in the same spot if she repeated the action. Who would have imagined the same principles for fighting law enforcement on Earth could apply to fighting demons in Hell? There was a dramatic irony there, but Claire wasn't sure if it was entirely fair to compare the servants of Satan to policeman or such. The demons were more honest. Probably better people too. She already liked the demons in their small group more than she had any pig back on Earth.
"Anytime you wanna sound off with that Buck Rogers-y shitshow of a sniper rifle you got would be a good one, senor!" Claire yelled at Mason from her safe position below him as she readjusted the distance leaf on her rear sight.