Hunkering down, Andrew set his spotting post next to Nolan, watching on as he readied his own rifle as a backup. Of course, Nolan was doing most of the shooting- he was an elite marksman, far better than Andrew was, though the Kiwi had a markman's brain to read and play out certain situations. As a spotter, it worked nicely to make sure that he watched the periphery, more than just down the rifle scope- though of course, joining in when he had to. Andrew knew Nolan's youth had exposed him heavily to the outdoors- he had an otherworldly sort of feel for it, but Andrew's mind was far more attached to the more human, anthropogenic planting on it. It was why they worked so well, perhaps- a sort of link that just clicked, and made them what they were.

"Good kills, Nolan. You don't need me much to snipe fuckers perfectly, huh....well, I'm here for moral support anyway." He chuckled, knowing there were plenty more to drop, but right now, they had to guide their man in on the ground.
"Copy, Osprey. Good work so far. Grab those last SPAAGs and get yourself off that airfield. Good timing, too. Task force isn't far gone. We are going to turn this place into a fucking fireworks show when they arrive." He called out, a wry chuckle at the carnage and fury they were going to cause something to admire. Placing that much explosives around the site would be something, as he adjusted his optic, looking down. The note to Markus was touching....and something in Andrew knew that those two had gone through a similar bond. Shit really hit the fan for them in Kosovo- a stark reminder that the forces they were up against had plenty of capability of their own, as he adjusted the spotting optic, looking to the side of the control tower.
"Osprey, if you've got any spare explosives left over, there's a fuel pump by the side of the control tower. Might have seen it, but if you haven't....chances are, you set that to leak and it'll blow the tank underneath the concrete with some explosives. Got two hostiles nearby. Me and Nolan can snipe them out." He called out, watching as the ghostly distant figure weaved around the airbase's parked SPAAGs, charges being laid, connected and ready to blast.
"Merlin, this is Cordite One, we're nearly done with the charges at the bottom. ETA ten till we should be all finished and ready to blast this one, over." Andrew called into his throat comms, aware that Merlin would be able to oversee the bigger picture and relay this to the other teams.
"Good copy, Cordite- Blackfish, Blue Sword, Knight, we are continuing as planned." 

----

Back in the skies, Natalie chuckled as Victor described the paint, and all it entailed. Many couples were close of course, but being let into this, it felt....well, like a true connection. Real, mattering, even in spite of the insanity that this operation was going to be, and many of the ones they were on. Her facepaint if she ever wore it was simple- a lightening or a typical camo pattern, but an intricate pattern like this...it was an art form, an almost ritually empowering thing to have. She giggled at the thought of it being a "courtship"....it was a long way in for that.
"Heh, perhaps it could be that..I'll take that wisdom, Victor." She replied, letting him finish as she brushed her hair out from the side of her face, letting him get in and finish the last stroke. She pouted at him, letting him come close and kiss her intensely. She replied the same, consumed in the moment, holding him tight against her armour, deeply locked. She felt at ease, completely in the moment with him, and it was a feeling she couldn't describe. She saw him go to hell to drag her out of it- and no doubt she would do the same if she had to, no questions asked.

"Paint or no paint, wisest decision I made was you, Victor. Mon cherie....we should look tough for them though, I think. In a moment..." She whispered into his ears, giving no damn either, gently rubbing her painted cheek against his, shutting her eyes for a brief moment, lost in that second and then back to the world they were in. It was a strange one to be back in, but hey, she would make the most of it, as she checked the large minigun on her left hand side, belt pulled tight into it and the other elements of her loadout needing a brief check. As much as she wanted to be lost in Victor, there was work to be done, as she gave herself one more check over, from Athena's Wrath on her hilt to the harpoon on her left arm, to the twin Deagles she'd elected to go for. Tools of the trade for someone getting shot at on a regular basis, she thought to herself, standing in the wobbly V22's interior. With a thump on the metal, she walked over to Ross, Jenny and Carl, the herculean Russo-Franco gal getting back into the rhythm of carrying that large lump of spinny killy metal, helmet in left hand and minigun in right. 
"How are you three all holding up? Game faces on?" She asked, Ross nodding as he gave a thumbs up, Jenny following the same.

"Yeah, all good. Are we still in the shadows, like, have we got no major international news on this anyone has reported?" Ross enquired, Natalie giving a wry shrug even through the armour in response.
"You haven't been taking pictures and sharing it on Facebook? Please tell me no..."
"Nope, not intending to, Bear." 
"Please keep it that way- so far all good. The LZ is 15 minutes out, and we should be in for a fireworks show once those AA vehicles go up. Don't shit yourselves if we still take some ground fire- faster we get out of this bird, faster we can hit them and take back control." She dryly remarked, heading back for Victor, the fearsome size of her always staggering to see, her cold demeanour just a reminder of the focus, grit and resolve it took to keep a straight head in a situation as crazy as this. The hot zone was coming- and the firefight was going to be one of their toughest yet.