There was something in the Captain's tone that told Zhenya that his orders were not to be questioned, or even commented on. Giving the Pole a quick, sharp nod, Zhenya made his brief - even by his standards - message to Medved. "Lima to Medved, thank you for the assistance, but get out now. Danish special forces are all over the place. Take caution." The appearance of the Jaegrekommandet had soured Zhenya's mood somewhat, not because he had been hoping that they would not appear, but that they were now fighting each other rather than the real enemy. It was a perfectly good waste of effort and bullets, as far as Zhenya was concerned.

He let out a long breath in frustration. As the third man of the group, he covered the backs of both Scott and the Captain, and at that moment, Zhenya felt about as useful as an unloaded rifle. Already, he could hear the shouts from the Danish teams scouring the building echoing down the hallway. "Captain, whatever it is you want to do, do it fast." Zhenya said in a low voice, never taking his eyes off the hallway he was covering. He tightened his grip around the pistol grip of his rifle and steadied his aim. The echoes were getting louder, and Zhenya was pretty sure he could hear doors being kicked open and windows shattering.