Marcus followed at Jake’s instruction; creeping bent double from one abandoned vehicle to another until he reached his side against the battered pick up.  He accepted the binoculars from him and looked through, a slow smile crept across his face as he got a better look at the figure that caught his eye.<br/><br/>“Uhuh.” he grunted in response to Jake’s explanation of the difference between the dress codes and armament for the army and the marines; “Got ya.” To Marcus a grunt with a gun was a grunt with a gun and two grunts with guns was better than one; a disrespectful way of summing it up perhaps and so he kept his thought quiet so as not to alienate himself.  In truth though he was far too distracted with watching her; there was something about a women in military uniform.<br/><br/>There was a sudden flurry of movement and as Jake tried to pull away Marcus lost his balance and fell backwards; A look of fear swept over his face, instinct took over and he pushed himself backwards, pulling himself away from the struggle between Jake and the now dead military personnel.<br/><br/>Marcus went for his baseball bat but his fingers grasped at thin air, it was usually slid at the back of his pack to make for ease of access, but in his efforts to distance himself from the chopper before it attracted unwanted attention, he had forgotten to pick it up and it still rested on the floor of the cockpit where he lay it. “Dammit.” It was a case of fight or flight; his instinct was to flee, to break for open ground, and before now that would have been exactly what he would have done, but he knew that his best chance of survival lay in cooperation.  He tried to calm the pounding in his heart but with little success.<br/><br/>The only other thing he had to hand was his shotgun only he daren’t fire it at such close proximity as the resultant spread of shot from his gun would likely do more harm to Jake than the deadhead.  He rose up and turned the gun around in his hands; With a yell Marcus bought the butt of his shotgun round with a thunderous crack against the side of its head; the force of the blow was driven by the fearful rush of adrenalin and would easily have seen the side of its head cave in; but the helmet that had been designed to protect this wretch in life now did the same in death, and it weathered the impact of his blow.<br/><br/>“Shit!” Marcus was panicking as the rotten arm scuffled for better leverage, With his hands firmly gripping the shotgun, he bought the butt round hard into its face.  It impacted with a wet crunch as it shattered its nose, cheek and jaw, trying to cause its grip on Jake to loosen enough for him to get clear.<br/>