Suddenly, a barrage of beeps and tones thundered through the radio.
"[What?! What's happening to the radio? Petrov, why are you writing on a piece of paper?]" Kelvin cried, as Petrov feverishly scribbled on a notepad.
"[It's morse code, sir! It says... hm.]"
"[What's it say? Petrov, you know I can't read morse!]"
"[I AM MAX STOP. THE INVADERS VASTLY OVERESTIMATED THEIR VEHICLE'S STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY STOP. COMMUNIST SCUM, PRY ME FROM THIS METALLIC COFFIN STOP.]"

There was a pregnant pause. Kelvin cleared his throat.

"['Communist scum'?]"
"[Yes, that's what they said. I--I guess our support didn't know to avoid the barricade on their way in. Should we go get him?]"
"[After our rendezvous just stirred up hell? Trouble never comes alone!]" Kelvin shouted upwards, towards the roof. "[Adamska! Do you see anything?]"

A stringy voice sounded down from the ceiling. This voice must have been Adamska's. "[I can see a pile of glowing blue wreckage sweeping the streets! Other than that, no!]"
Kelvin nodded. "[Good. Pack up your rifle, Adamska, it's time to move along. That pile of wreckage is our point man. The rendezvous point has been moved, it seems.]"