[center][h1][color=7E1B1B]Marcus Williams[/color][/h1]
[img]http://38.media.tumblr.com/741694939d978dba5a54eb7509dbfff3/tumblr_n4p47wgx881re995yo1_500.gif[/img][/center]
[center][color=7E1B1B][b]Location:[/b][/color] Near Markada, Northeastern Syria
[color=7E1B1B][b]Interacting With:[/b][/color] YPG fighters [@AbandonedIntel][/center]

As the confirmation came over the radio, Marcus set down the designator carefully before bringing his rifle up finally. He set his sights on a Jihadi behind some low cover, popping out to fire toward the YPG fighters. It took him a half second to line up the shot before he pulled back on the trigger twice, one shot slamming into the fighter's chest, and another into his head, a flash of pink mist filling the air as he fell back to the ground. As the machine gun nailed the bomber, and a group of others with them, Marcus lowered his weapon slightly, keeping it ready but not aimed as he peered around for any more, unnerved somewhat by the silence.

Of course it didn't last long, the exchanged shouting and the explosions to follow piercing the silence rather thoroughly before it returned to the sound of the wind shortly afterward. Marcus saw it a fraction too late, mere moments before the woman on the machine gun spoke up, he saw the glint of the sniper's scope, and the flash of it firing. His eyes drifted up to the woman, and a little blood splashed against his face. It was not an uncommon feeling, but it was still a strange one, he wasn't sure that he'd ever be quite used to it. He watched as she fell, and dashed over without thinking as the fighter instructed him to.

[color=7E1B1B][b]"You're going to be alright."[/b][/color] Marcus assured the woman in as reassuring a manner as he was able, reaching down into his medical kit and carefully dragging out some gauze. He made sure the two of them were properly in cover behind the truck, before ensuring that the bullet had gone through her shoulder as he hoped. It hadn't. Swearing under his breath, he reached up to his wrist, undoing the paracord around it and holding it in front of the woman's mouth. [color=7E1B1B][b]"Bite down."[/b][/color] He instructed her simply, grabbing a pair of tweezers as she did so. 

Taking hold of her shoulder with one hand, he moved the tweezers forward with the other, carefully shifting them into the wound to take a firm hold of the bullet shards still inside her shoulder, dragging them out as carefully as he was able to. There were a few, but the bullet hadn't shattered too badly, and he had them out before long. Tucking the tweezers away, he began to carefully pack the wound with gauze, making sure it was packed tight before he firmly wrapped it with a bandage. He gave her something relatively basic for the pain before he peered up over the truck to where the sniper fire had come from, bullets were impacting around the window from the YPG, but it was nothing particularly accurate, enough to keep him down at least. 

Glancing back down to the woman fighter, he gave her a pat on her good shoulder and placed his paracord back around his wrist before taking up his rifle again, carefully he loaded in a high explosive grenade into his launcher, and moved up toward the front of the truck. Bracing it against the hood of the truck for some extra stability, he lined up the shot after a few long moments and pulled back on the second trigger, letting loose the explosive round. It whistled through the air for a moment before [b]*BOOM*[/b] - no more sniper. The wall had been blown apart from the explosion, and part of the roof caved in, if he wasn't dead, he was at least wounded, or gone.