Greg sneered and rolled his eyes, though he didn't reject Tom's idea aloud, he was certainly amused in silence. Goblins? Really... There may as well be zombies and werewolves... And dragons! Oh, sure, a dragon, that likely existed too if there were god damned [i]goblins.[/i] However, as he stared down the reflex sight of his weapon, he watched as the little monsters began to peel away from their original target and head for the small squadron. At the same time, he and their sergeant made an actual call, "hold your fire!" The man looked to Greg's face as he pulled out his pistols, "Calm the fuck down, Tommy. Despite an educated guess, we have no idea what the hell is going down and opening fire will only attract attention to themselves." His attention turned to another of their squad mates, "I don't want to see anything ridiculous, you guys,.. Tom, two pistols? Who the hell authorized that loadout?" He asked sharply before leaning forward and closing an eye. "We want to fire as few shots as possible. Semi-auto, take a knee, and take every one of these little fuckers down before they get here."

The sergeant's face twisted into one of pure rage as he grabbed Greg's shoulder roughly and forced him to turn. "I don't remember you being given authorization over our entire squadron, Carson. You'd better stand the fuck down, I call the shots."

The man seemed about to attack his commander in that moment, almost seeming to have Satan flash in his face as he pushed back, pressing his forehead right against Wellington's, growling, "And we're not exactly in any position to fight about protocol right now, are we? Something's happening at HQ and we're staring down something we've never fucking seen before. If we get back, I'll tell the CO I blatantly disobeyed your shitty excuse for leadership decisions and accept any punishment they have. But until then, either shut your fucking mouth and remember that in Delta Squad rank means far less than you seem to make it and that we're all teammates."

Wellington didn't retort, for a lack of time, and there was a quiet murmuring about them as Greg cleared his voice, "Everybody ready yourselves... Pick one and kill it... Then another, got it?" He gently eased his finger against the trigger, but he didn't pull yet. Finally, he squeezed and there was a loud [i]crack[/i] that sounded out, followed by a few more as the squad shot through the trees, downhill at the attacking group of monsters. Over the firing, the Staff Sergeant cleared his throat, "The more sound we make, the more they'll send... they'll be on us faster than we think." His statement was blunt and he watched as the cretins went down with their assault. With each pull of the trigger, they seemed to be mowing down the mob of the beasts that were on the offensive. However, more of them split away from the massive army, which had already begun to loot the now-empty house for shinies and other interesting objects.

"Reloading!" Came a call every now and then as one of them would drop a magazine and replace it. "We gotta get out of here," Carson commanded, standing to his feet and beginning to step back, "C'mon! We can lose them in the trees and start for the base."