He only nodded as Gladiator stomped on the gas pedal and leaned back to get his bearings. His focus glassed over as he let the details blur and the sound of the 'hog enveloped him, turning into a background noise. Colors shifted and melded until eventually Patric saw and heard only a muddled form of what really was there. His entire body going slack, bouncing and swaying as he let the motion of the 'hog flowed into him. From the background noise the poks of plasma and retorts from UNSC hardware registered, snapping into clear focus. The barrel was already snapping to the second of a dozen identified targets when the NAV points snapped into focuse on his HUD before they too grew muddled. Fingers methodically pulling the triggers, hands squeezing, breathing slow and shallow, a slack jawed sort of grin the only physical recognition of his mental state as he sent bullet after explosive bullet into sniper's positions. There a window exploded out, a jackal screeching as it was flung out, there a balcony collapsed. Walls collapsed, roofs caved in.<br/><br/>His whole world was a blur and by the time they had left the marines behind there were only three sniper's positions left that he could identify. Sight and balance momentarily shifted as the 'hog became airborne and Patric unconsciously let out a small whoop of excitement before the 'hog roughly landed. They drifted around and sped by the way they came, giving Patric another round at the snipers from another angle, identifying more from the other direction. More destruction blossomed as explosive bullets smashed into buildings and vehicles, smashing bodies apart with punitive ease. They were clear of the snipers fast than the first time around and Patric let his arms relax in the firing position.<br/><br/>Time flowed by with Patrict lazily looking spinning the gun's turret every few minutes, his rotation timed just so that he missed the first group of covenant without even knowing they were there. His grip tightened as Gladiator's driving became more hazardous than before, weaving to and fro to avoid the debris of conquest and war. After a time the weaving lessened and Patric watched as the four hunters timed their firing improperly. He fired several shots into the hunters still standing to distract them from getting a proper bead on the 'hog. One shot missed and hit the road between the hunters. Already weak the pavement caved in, introducing the Hunters to the circulation of the great human city of New York's Sewers. Now the little things had a reason to glow green. Turning the gun Patric aimlessly moved the gun from side to side, angled up slightly. Within time he could see banshees and began to trade fire with them, a tunnel entrance signing the contract for two banshee's before Patric could.<br/><br/>A few more minutes of trading fire and a close shot or two and Patric finally got a hit, the leading banshee veering into the path of the closely following banshee whom tried to turn away too late, turning into a bright blue sun, debris falling. Satisfied he had dealt with them Patric turned the turret back toward the front of the 'hog and began to lazily move the gun from side to side again. After a few minutes of this Patric felt something warm on his abdomen and then a strong twinge. Looking down Patric saw a small sized hole punched into the stomach of his armor, a small trail of red leaking from the hole. A fair amount had already coagulated around the wound and a fairly sized puddle had formed around his feet, suggesting he had taken the hit sometime during their pass with the snipers. He grimaced slightly and told the suit to administer the appropriate pain killers and drugs.<br/><br/>Soon the trail stopped flowing and the pain faded before it could begin to over-come his affinity for pain. His attention was jerked back to the sky as Gladiator jerked to one side and green explosions erupted on the other. He turned the gun and fired a single shot into the rear most banshee, scoring a direct hit. He would have opened fire on the other two banshees but for his strength fading. He felt increadibly weak now and grunted in shocked surprise as he realized the wound might just be worse than he had initially though. He had already lost a lot of blood and had only just recovered from dehydration. A wound like this, especially right after his last op...Things weren't looking too good for him and he needed to find a place to get himself patched up ASAP or he was gone. Grimly set he raised the gun and pulled the trigger as the 'hog gave a sudden jerk and<em>snapped</em>him up, his feet momentarily leaving the sticky puddle of blood before the pavement in front of them<em>slammed into his back</em>jarring the visor of his helmet into the gun mount, his entire upper body collapsing into the gun, destroying it as the remains of the 'hog flipped and turned, crumbling around him before he was finally thrown from the 'hog, hos unconscious form slamming into the guard rail of the bridge, snapping the stone and metal into pieces and plummeting to the shallow waters below. His body crashed into the muddy water below just off the shore of the island.<br/><br/>The pain, so intense, so incredible, jerked him awake for a full minute. So shocked and numb Patric could only blink and allow training to take over and telling his suit to transmit an SOS and a need for an immediate attention for medical care before the pain spiked, freeing a gasp from his tortured lips as he fainted before the half functional suit blipped at him poorly, warning him that the transmitter of his suit was malfunctioning, the pack attached to his back that housed the extra radio equipment was destroyed and reduced to shrapnel and nearly completely torn free.