[i]Wilson stands, and pulls his MG3 from the mounting bracket on his shoulder. Picking up The Deuce, he locks it back into position, and slings his MG3 over his shoulder. He talks over his helmet's communication systems through an encrypted channel.[/i] Where is she? Little bitch ran from me. Shoulda hit harder, could've broken her in two. [i]A sigh is heard, the voice seems agitated.[/i] Wilson, we need her dead, you told me you knew how to handle her. Kinda hard when the little bitch jumps around like a damn rabbit, and -blam!-s with your head. I suppose. You know the boss isn't going to take kindly to you -blam!-ing up again? Yeah no shit Wolfie... I'M not taking kindly to it. Head back to base. We need to address that weaker plating on your armor. Good -blam!-in plan. [i]A vertibird lands, and Wilson climbs aboard as it roars off into the night.[/i]