The DPV came to a stop and Bjorn moved as quickly as his giant frame would allow. He was much happier on the ground than in the airplane over here, but no one likes getting shot at. He unslung his Minigun and pulled the trigger, letting it roar to life. 6,000 rounds a minute laid waste to the targets in front of him and men either ducked for cover or were cut in half. He heard Imran say something on the radio, something about nerve toxins, but Bjorn didn't see and toxins, so he kept shooting. 

He felt something snap in his mind. It suddenly felt like his mini gun wasn't working. It was just a lump of metal in his hands. Useless, and pathetic. He threw it to the ground. He had to find a real weapon. Something heavy.... and sharp. Then he remembered the axe at his side. He pulled it from his loop. [i]That's better...[/i] he thought. He felt his blood rising and he rushed into battle, swinging his axe like... well, a viking.