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"Sam, all I have is about a foot of detcord. That s**t is barely anything compared to what i'd need." To make a point, he cut a quarter inch and threw it into the mass of flood. Hitting the detonator, the detcord exploded in a flash of flame and smoke. The suprise was obvious to any other SPARTAN looking at Scorch, but not at all to a regular Marine. "Uhh..I think we might have a bit of demo. Let's hook it up."

"Ok then Scorch, I have three grenades left, after that I'm the distraction."

Sam got out his assault rifle and cleared away another two openings, before he could throw a grenade, an explosive green flo0od did its job. The concussion launched infection forms at himand he batted them away but they kept on attacking. He quickly threw the grenade in his hand towards the opening closest to him, but he missed by a third of a foot because of the flood on his torso clawing hungerly at his faceplate.

"God damn it!" He said taking out his pistol.

He first cleared away the ones on his armor, then he shot the infection forms coming towards him. The Grenade exploded, still closing the entrance, but only barely.

"Hey Sorch! Get the det chord ready and close that other one!.

"Sam, alive and fighting for my god damn race over here! Hey if there is anyone that can help, maybe Drax or someone else but please do help!"

He had his pistol in hand and shot anything he say that looked like a flood in the chest., practically an instant kill. Then he took his second grenade and flung it at the third opening but a flood jumped in the way and knocked the grenade away and it landed 17 feet from the fourth opening. The total number of openings was six and they had taken out two. The grenade exploded taking out a large group of combat forms.

"Last one scorch then the only thing I can do is cover you from the flood!"

He chucked the grenade accurately and it landed a few feet into the opening. He ran over to Scorch and shot a few infection forms crawling towards him.

"Scorch, its your game now me bucko."

"God damn you made that look easy." He said while getting two kills with one shot. "Hell yeah, THAT is the type of gun we need to kill a covenent, a bullet that hits two enimies at once."

He shot four more rounds then he heard the dreaded clink. The clink of an empty clip, his last one... He found his solution. He saw two flood, one wielding a SPKNR Rocket Launcher, the other a plasma rifle....

He went for the laucher. he took out his assualt rifle with onl 14 rounds left. He half into the flood's chest cavity. The flood collapsed with a gaping hold where the lungs and major arteries would be. He whipped up the launcher and fired at the largest group of remaining flood. Barely outside that group was the flood with the plasma rifle. The group exploded but the weapon wielding flood survived with only losing an arm, a non essencial for a flood. He took out the assualt rifle and unloaded the payload of 7 rounds, only 4 struck home. It still move so he used the butt of his gun and pounded in the chest cavity. When it abruptly stopped he dropped th assualt rifle and traded bullets for plasma. A great trade when it comes to the flood. he looked around and there were still atleast 14 flood combat forms left but there were at least 20 infection forms to mop up.

'Lets get to it.' He thought moving towards the nearest flood.

Winter surveyed the flood, they did not bother with there enemies appearance. The foreboding appearance of gray green armor. Certainly he was ominous hefting his own magnum within one hand the other a free first of bent fingers.

There was no word of attack but cold silence. The flood had no feelings, no heart. Why should he? Flashes of gun fire swarmed the air. A dance of lead as Winter's pistol started to send shells left and right. Flood forms green and vile exploded with puffs of green vomit like substance. The man's mind ran clear. Each movement precise. The close combat technician the artist performed a wonderful painting a masterpiece of destruction. Handgun giving off great brush strokes of destruction upon the hordes of endless flood.

"Winter here." The man replied to the count. His life was in his own hands and safe. Yet others weren't so. This was a close range battle and that he excelled at. The others.. Some weren't so in tune with this form of combat. Yet it was true for the other way around. Each Spartan had their strengths and weaknesses. It was his time to show his own strengths.

The man turned from the mangled battalion of enemies. Without more then a simple glance of the destruction his legs stormed beneath him. Like a beast he flew through the grass and trees. Throwing his weight left and right. Dodging the trees keeping himself from slamming painfully into one of them. That would slow him down and time was scant.

Like a panther he stormed from the bushes upon his prey. Like an animal that Winter was almost like he moved with four limbs. Using palms to lift himself and keep balance as the thin outline of trees thinned. Two firsts pounded the earth. If only this beast had teeth he could tear but instead he ripped. The Spartans Sam and Scorch were in the process of mopping them up. Or was it Winter? The wolf the panther.. The beast flung himself at his enemies. The first flood form crunched in two. Hands ripping through zombie like flesh. Leaving behind nothing more then a mangled corpse as he moved the next. The process was like a skipping record the same thing over and over again. Awful crunches muscles and bones snapping and ripping in two. He appeared and disapeared from combat. Hunching down upon four limbs to take down the next. Adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

The flood moved without fear yet there was no purpose. So few survived from Winter's berserk fleet of combat. Now falling to handgun rounds as Winter moved through the last flood.

"Where off to now?" The man asked. Slapping in another clip into his sidearm and only firing weapon.

"Mr. Boom Boom? That's my job, damnit." He smirked at Thira's remark about the Chief. "I'm pretty sure Chief would rather be here with us, Thira." He wiped his Combat Knife on the ground and sheathed it, leaving a green muck where he wiped it. "So I hope they left me some Demo." Looking over at the supplies, he saw a crate marked with DEM-88325. "And there is a higher being who loves me." looking inside, he saw a spool of det cord, detonators, satchel charges, and a few other little suprises he ordered from HIGHCOM. Stocking up on ammunition, he hefted his 'goodie bag' and slung it over his shoulder. It wasn't bulky, just heavy with all the things he packed in it. "Oh, hey guys, I found some crap where we were fighting." Reaching into his bag, he pulled out three makeshift bandolieers of Plasma Grenades. "I hope you know how to use them, otherwise i'm going to feel useless carrying these around and using them myself."