The shot was a tough one to make, and Andrew could see it just as much as Nolan. There was a messy crosswind, and the shot was going to be a difficult one to pick out. Listening in on Nolan's call, he readied up, the Kiwi getting ready to fire the DSR's .50 round straight into the poor bastard. 
"Shot is crappy. I'll agree with your callout, that wind reading seems good. It's got some intermittency to it...hold your shot till the wind really dies on the last crosswind. That one I cannot fucking get a bear on...alright, steady." He said, tapping Nolan on the shoulder, hearing his confirm, before exhaling and firing.

The shot wasn't clean, and went straight through the man's shoulder, knocking him down but not killing him- ripping pretty much the entirety of his shoulder and arm out in a particularly gruesome fashion. .50 left nothing to the imagination- the guy would be dead of bloodloss anywhere else, but he wasn't dead, and a repeat shot with Osprey so close was too risky. Checking the bolt, Andrew muttered a curse, annoyed but focussed still on the job at hand.
"Osprey, you might have to finish the bastard before he screams..." Andrew called into comms, aware the Canadian infiltrator would do the job, and finish up the laying of the explosives from here on out.

----

Overhearing Carl's comment, Natalie gave a wry grin, looking to Victor, then back at Carl, camera in hand.
"Good, Carl. Keep it as a memory, a reminder. If it ends up anywhere, you heard our bossman's command. You don't have to imagine. But for you, maybe I'll make it comfortable, yes? Don't get any ideas in that suit of yours....I hear it's very difficult to scratch an itch." She gave a wicked giggle, picking up the GAU and checking her feed, lugging it over as she brought her helmet in tight, the feeling of being back in action always pumping the adrenaline, something that was unassailable, almost as if it was never ending in this fight.

Natalie stood right by Victor's side as he spoke, amping them up. She let him go, knowing his warrior's chant would get them going, the voice and echoing deep bellowing he had of a voice just enough to make her hairs stand on edge. She had nothing to add, aside from an icy, following stare, the moon-painted girl in armour by her Mohican-Norwegian's side following him on this gig, 15 minutes out. 

Looking across to the two giants, Ross could only watch in awe, truly taking it in as he glanced out the window, the icebergs and the giant mass of ice now coming closer towards the horizon, before turning back to Carl and Vicky, knowing the two of them were likely as pumped as him after that. Another gear check, what felt like the millionth time.
"One more time, into the breach eh?"