Andrew pulled the trigger after picking his target through the FLIR optic, then refocussing to the next man and pulling again, the rounds flying across the 420m void and straight into both the tangoes, the first getting a shot through the head and the other to his core, breaching any kevlar vest he wore with relatively little stress. After all, a .50 BMG round didn't exactly piss around that either of the two had.
"Clean. Holding. Nice shots, Nolan." Andrew only replied, watching the ridgeline, giving it a moment. It was a sniper's job not to rush, but to get the job done. As Nolan rightly posted it, there could be more.

"Two more. Closing from 500, right hand side of our dead guys on the ridgeline. Part of the same patrol, looks like they staggered back. I have forefront, you have rear. Conditions same. Fire when ready." Andrew coldly commented, readying his shot. On that count, he pulled the trigger, again lacing the target accurately, in spite of his shivering hands and his freezing breath. The round cleanly pulled an arm off as it went through his side, splattering out the other end. The work was filthy with a round of this caliber, but it got you guaranteed results. With a few more minutes to pass, they could assess, watching and waiting.With those two dropped, Andrew got back to his feet from the knelt position, back into moving across the shelf.

"Think that's our lot. C'mon, Nolan. Let's git'er done." He remarked, taking the momentum to push forwards and up onto the snow, his boots depressing into the snow and crunching gently as he got back to a combat pace. They needed to hustle, and get their end of the gig sorted.
 
"Osprey, this is Cordite. We're moving up to our next OP point. We should be able to give you an overwatch once we're up into the hills above the base. There's the lone radar dome, and we'll put our charges there. I trust you're making your moves towards their AA sites in the valley, right? Should be a couple Tunguskas, a couple S-400s mounted on Ural trucks. Lay some bricks and get the fuck out of there. We'll snipe any fuckers that get in your way." The Kiwi called out, knowing that Eric was on a mission of his own, to raise a bit of chaos and be a lone dagger. With the New Zealander and the Canadian snipers moving up, they had the opportunity to get moving past the squad of dead soldiers they'd hit, and up into position. Their bodies would be covered in snowdrift soon enough, and even if there was an issue with radio callback, in 20 minutes, it wouldn't matter. They were going to be hit hard, and pummeled by the cavalry that was coming in. A symphony of their base going up in explosions would preclude that, like the lightening before the thunder hitting.

Perching himself down into an overlook spot, Andrew wiped his scope and weapon of snow, looking down into the valley.
"Holy fucking moly. They really have it secured." He commented, giving a quiet whistle, pointing it out.
"So, their AN-124 is sitting there, nice and comfy with the two SU-34s. AA, three BTR-90s, and damn, is that a barrack? Lot of troops milling there. Got a spot on where they're trying to attack the fortified bunker, right side of the ATC tower. Looks like they're trying to break in...much as it would be easy to shoot those fuckers first, that'd blow open our op. Alrighty. Nolan, we got the dome 100m down from us, majority of the targets in the valley are 600-800m. I can set the bricks on the dome and bound it back to here- want to keep a watch for our friend in the valley?" 

---------

Natalie took a moment to look to him, her gaze looking towards the Mohican's, her reaction warm, beyond the severity of it all. They were together for a good reason not just as soldiers, but as a couple, and knew how to look after, treat each other, and support each other. The most kind of fucked up relationship that was enboldened by being giants, oh, and wielding weaponry most could barely carry in two man teams.
"One step ahead." With her own set pulled out of a pouch, it was almost as if the other half of the partnership knew exactly what Victor was like. Pulling the small pouch out from one of her secure MOLLE pouches on her front, she pulled the lid open, able to get a grip on it with her monkey-paw like gauntleted hands, able to be remarkably accurate in spite of that.
"I decided not to...well, I can't do it very well. Rare of me to admit a fault, hey?" The Russian commented, gently taking some of the red onto the metal and scraping it gently against Victor's cheek. She rembered the patterns now, the looks and the significance from what she had told him. She had listened, and knew how valuable, how important it was. A ritual that needed help, no matter what armour or weapon he wielded it- Victor had a strength in that. Finishing the pattern, she cleaned her gauntlet's tips with a lick of spit. After all, she hadn't the chance to get her hands out of this thing, not very easily at this point!
"Though I suppose...have you got anything in mind if you did want to do it for me?"