Howard crept his way through the jungle undergrowth. Part of it was lit up by fires from the compound. And this worked as a beacon and unofficial return call to any patrols that were out at night. Howard watched one right then. They were moving at a decent clip, but not that fast as only one of them seemed to have a working headlamp. He quickly turned his radio off when Imran relayed the objective to keep taking out patrols until pick up arrived. He intended to do just that. But that sudden blurt of static and chatter was pretty loud in the relative quiet of the jungle. He ducked low as one of the patrolmen stopped and looked out into the darkness around him. The whole squad stopping, and the one with the headlamp passing the bright light over the foliage.

Howard hrmed softly, trying to piece together a way to make this work. He slowly drew his Honey Badger. He tucked rifle butt to shoulder. Then sighted into the C79 sight. The 3.4x scope working very well in the light. He he took a few long deep breathes, then squeezed the trigger. The round hissing out, heading right for the man with the lamp. The bullet whickered up, and took out the lamp, but left it's wearer unarmed. Because of the sudden darkness. Several of the men fired blindly and Howard counted atleast four friendly fire incidents. One man getting 2 bullets into the spine, another dropping to the side gripping his throat where a bullet had cut the artery. And the last howling in pain as a bullet punched through his bicep. Howard sheathed the carbine on his back, and drew his bow next, pressing buttons, an arrowhead screwing silently onto a shaft. He smiled, drew the arrow, and crept out to a firing position. Leaning partially out onto the path, taking aim and firing. The arrow burying into the ground at the feet of the remaining men.

Moments later, the forest was again lit up by light. And sound and screams. As the HE arrowhead, the size of a large marble goes up. Enough explosive packed in there to make a Hummer driver think twice of proceeding. Collapsing the bow. Howard drew his 'hawks again, very quietly stalking forward. Checking the moaning bodies. Many of them had compression injuries. As he went he counted almost all of them with internal bleeding. As far out as they were. Howard didn't need to do much. Except to sheath one tomahawk and draw his knife. Putting one man out of his misery honorably. As he was aware enough to die in slow excruciating pain rather then quickly like the rest as their bodies shut down on them over the next few seconds. Howard then proceeded on, turning his radio on again, "Two groups down. Proceeding to find somemore." He crept off in the direction of a secondary pick up position. And in the direction some tracks were headed.