Desmond - With friends like these...<br/><br/>Desmond was not upset by the screams of the young woman who had just been shot twice. Surprisingly enough this had not been the first time he had been in such a situation. Often when joining up with a new crew their was some sort of display like this. He had been the one with the gun in his hand from time to time. Also all during his childhood he had been around similar acts of violence. When your a child soldier, violence was often how you marked rites of passage. It was the way of things that the weak were killed, tortured or both.<br/><br/>Desmond simply watched the woman scream in agony and with a great deal of subtly touched the back of his left wrist. He had set himself a five minute timer for his personal pack of explosives. He would have to touch the button again to stop the timer, and if this did not happen the bomb would go off. Desmond judged from his position in the room that the explosive would take out a good chunk of this room. Just because he was not worried for the girl did not mean he was not being cautious. If Desmond was the next to be asked to stip down and get shot, at least he would do so with the satisfaction that nobody in this room could defuse one of his personal explosives in five minutes.<br/><br/>He continued to watch the scene unfold. The moment it seemed less dangerous for everyone else in the room he would stop the timer and hopefully hear about the job.