Had the spotter, well,<em>spotted</em>him? Jason didn’t have time to muse on the question. It was do-or-die-time and his synaptic boosters kept him on edge. The world seemed to slow down as he got down on one knee behind a crate of his own and rested his submachine gun on it. He would take the spotter first; the sniper was still busy aiming down his scope and with his awkward long rifle, he was less of a threat in close quarters.<br/><br/>The MP5 was naturally quieter than most other guns of its class but his was equipped with a gas vent – not a suppressor – and it was likely that someone would overhear the gunfire. Usually, this would be bad. But in this case, with an ambush in progress, Jason reasoned that it would give the runners (if they were actually there in person) an anonymous warning as well as force the (supposed) Gunderson troops into action – and into the open. He still hadn’t figured out who was playing which game here and a pair of short bursts would serve nicely as a kickoff for everyone.<br/>