The pair spotted the Russian behind cover preforming first aid on a crew member. He looked up and saw them and motioned for them to stay down as large caliber rounds started to impact around him.
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[i]Wilson laughed as some plinked off of his armor, and his Browning began to roar. Fifty-caliber API rounds screamed out of the weapons barrel as he walked forwards to cover them. From his back, he drew his MG3, and cocked it.[/i] YO PAVEL, TAKE A REAL GUN! [i]Wilson tossed him the weapon, a full belt loaded in it. Off to Pavel's left, Wolf appeared, popping carefully placed shots from his father's SCAR-H at the enemies, hitting a few in the chest as Wilson kept them suppressed. Over the fire, Wolf shouted to Pavel. [/i] How bad's the wound?
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[i]Wolf looked to Wilson and gestured for him to continue to lay cover fire. Wilson nodded and drew an AKM from his back, and began firing that along with his Browning. Casings and belt links littered the ground as the machine gun and assault rifle cut into the enemy. Wolf ducked down, and pulled out a few supplies from his bandolier, gauze, morphine, and a small surgery kit. He handed it over to Pavel, and stood back up to return fire.[/i] You're better with it than I am! [i]Reloading the SCAR, he continued to fire, picking off those who Wilson was suppressing.[/i]
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[i]With that, Wolf holstered his rifle, and drew his sword, cloaking and disappearing. He reappeared in the midst of them, cutting them to pieces, and tossing them like rag dolls as they approached him. His finesse was unparalleled, his swordsmanship immaculate. Wilson finally moved forwards as well, letting the Browning cool for a moment, as he drew both of his magnums. Firing them as enemies approached, he decimated them with multiple shots to the chest and gut. [/i]
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[i]As the guards slow, the two mercenaries push forwards, eliminating anything in their path as they pushed for the armory to rendezvous with everyone else. Like a tornado ripping across a field, the two carved a path through the guards, Wilson's weaponry peppering them, Wolf removing limbs and severing arteries with surgical precision. The two had left nothing alive in a span of approximately ten minutes, and surveying the scene, they began to head towards the armory.[/i] THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T TOUCH MY SHIT! [i]Wolf laughed at the Courier, who not unlike himself, was splattered with blood. Moving across the area, they headed into the hallway, Wilson on point, his hulking frame making escape for any stragglers nigh impossible.[/i]
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Well then... Crossing that off the bucket list, intimidated a Ruskie today... Hehehe [i]The sound of Wilson's heavier armor could be heard moving down the hallway, as in the room, Wolf stood, arms crossed leaning against the wall, having teleported in.[/i]