[i]Wilson stops firing, the barrel of his Browning red-hot and smoking. Sliding his shotgun onto his back, he draws his machete, and an energy blade springs forth from the top of his left wrist gauntlet. The power armor goes into overdrive as he rushes in swinging. Screams, snapping bone, and the slicing of flesh can be heard as he rips them apart with the two blades. A final figure attempts to run, but the attempt is futile, as he catches up, and slams the machete blade down into their head, cracking their skull. The body falls to its knees, and Wilson wrenches the machete out, the corpse falling over, blood oozing out.[/i]

"Well well, you certainly lived up to the name!" [b][i]The Frontiersman shouts from a rooftop, before he jumps off, the spring loaded legs absorbing the shock. He approaches Wilson, after picking up the G11, it laying limo at his side. He steps over plenty of corpses, and an NWH Helicopter flies over, landing in the middle of the street. the Frontiersman steps in, sitting next to the only soldier on board aside from the pilot[/i][/b]

[i]Wilson picks up the gun.[/i] I dig it. [i]He slides it onto his back, and climbs onto the helicopter, holding the side rail on the cargo bay entry.[/i]