Hayden nodded and got to his feet, the quartet falling back down the alley a short ways, trying to find a way inside. Hayden slung the big Bren from his shoulder and reaching down brought up his Hi-Power checking it quickly and pulling his tomahawk as well. They drifted back and as they went he tried to peek into windows, finding many of them boarded or barred over the inside of the first floor some of the rooms seemed purposefully filled with out furniture. He grumbled softly as they went, then bumped into Sean. Hayden stumbled and peered around, "Fuck, of fucking course." He nodded and slips around in front of Sean, "Get ready boys and girls..." He hissed. They waited, the militants babbling away to each other.

They were almost on them when Hayden threw himself forward, picking up the one in the lead, carrying him across to the other side of the alley bodily carrying the woman on his shoulder, until with a crunch and something breaking in the woman's hip he'd slammed her against the alley wall. He's too busy wrestling with her to look over his shoulder. He grunts but gives no room as the woman slams her head into his lips, and he can feel something pop as his lip splits. Keeping his finger off the trigger he brings it up and gives the woman a pistol whip upper cut. Rattling her.

A first swing slaps her gun from her hands. A hand numbed by the blunt end of the tomahawk blade smacking into it. Hayden staggers back as he gets a knee to his stomach. The woman fighting like some feral animal. And that's about when things go Red and White for Hayden. His mouth opening in a silent berzerker growl. Nose of the pistol to the womans cheek, knowing her back, and with a crunch the pointed blade of the tomahawk hits her in the temple. He then sweeps her feet, and that's where they find him, hammering away at the woman, eyes unfocused, mouth open in a silent animal like snarl as again the tomahawk falls, splitting something else. And again, another crunch....and again....and again...