Render heard the explosion before he could see it, and ran outside of the Pelican hold to snatch the binoculars away from Smith. In the distance, he could still make out the remnants of flaming debris, though his vision was confused by the pertinent wall of snow. For a moment he felt his heart racing in his chest: loud noises could cause avalanches, but after the telltale grumbling of an avalanche was nowhere to be seen after 30 seconds, he walked back towards the hold. Render had already stripped the Pelican of most of its valuables already, and his rucksack and bandoleer were backed to the brim. His pack was filled to the brim with a PP-16979/AM-Sh charger and several BA-53635/PLMD batteries, which could be used to power nearly anything that they desired... though they were intended for the W/AV M6 G/GNR "Spartan Laser" that he has strapped over his back. Since he had lost his knife in New Mombasa--buried in the control panel of a doomed Scarab platform--he'd placed his old VISR package inside of the empty sheath on his left breast. He'd taken up listening to old audio logs, and even his own combat logs, during his spare time. On his left thigh he had holstered his M7/S SMG, and on his right, his M6C/SOCOM. Finally, he had fragmentation grenades, spare ammunition, and a biofoam canister all tied up on the bandoleers on his chest. By all measures, he looked like a true warrior, a demon from a strange metal hell, and by all means, he was. Though he was ready to relocate already, he would rather that Gonzo report back to the ship, instead of forcing him to leave the craft unguarded. Though it was stripped of its valuables already, it was still a refuge in a storm. He threw a burning neon flare on top of the Pelican, and hoped that Gonzo would see it.