<span style="color: #FF0000">Fernando continued panting heavily under the truck as he listened and looked on all sides, inspecting for any sign of movement. The more seconds that went by, the more intense the pain in his shoulder became. <br/><br/>As she snapped out to him for disobeying her, he couldn't help but feel a small spark of anger, but he didn't reply in an angry tone. <br/><br/>"I... I wasn't gonna let you die out there. You're more important than I am, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you while I'm sitting like a coward in my seat. You can punish me later, if you think that's necessary."<br/><br/>Wishing fervently that he had one of the bottles of alcohol on him right now to put on his wound, he reached over to it and felt tentatively all around the hole. Sniper bullets were incredibly harmful, and he knew that he had to take the bullet out before his entire arm became paralyzed. Grunting, he stuck one finger inside the wound as far as he could, forcing it past tissue that was already trying to repair itself until he touched the bullet. Once he did, he pressed down on it and started to slide it out of the gaping hole in his shoulder, finally drawing out the last of it. The whole process was one of intense pain and it took all of his willpower to sit through it silently. After he was done, he felt completely breathless and very much drained of energy, but he knew he had to try to find an escape route.</span>