Stopping the cars had been their first mistake, now they were stuck in it. He quickly counted 21 irate iranians, all with weapons trained on the two SEAL-laden cars. The guys with the RPG's must have been (feeling) stupid, one of them was barely 5 meters away, the rocket wouldn't have armed by the time it hit the car. Still, a rocket to the chest probably hurt all the same. At least the other guys would take the some of their pals with them if they fired. There was enough ordnance in the cars to make a pretty bang if struck by a HEAT.
The cars weren't armored and they were slow enough that the iranians would have plenty of time to riddle them with holes if they tried to push forwards. Shooting their way out didn't really seem a better choice, but it gave them some chance.
The other car came in on the radio:
"Victor 1, it's obvious we are outnumbered and outgunned, so I advise we back the fuck up as fast as possible, pray we don't get shot by an RPG, and find another way around."
"If we move their still going to shoot at us, Grim. Victor 1, advise we engage over."
Michael pressed down on his radio.
"All Spartans, fighting seems our only choice. Put up your hands and wait for them to come and pull you out of the car. That'll keep some of them off their triggers. Be ready to strike, follow my lead. Put down the guys with RPG's asap. How copy?"
While waiting for a response, Michael calmly put up his empty hands up for the Iranians to see.