Miro clenched his teeth, and summoning all of his willpower, managed to find his shoes more interesting than girls while in the lockers. A second time this day he had to pull the same move. But now, he could feel he was being observed. He imagined some of them had lewd stares at his buttocks aswell, being someone with defined fit figure and muscles, but he had to endure it. It was bound to be unfair, this was their turf.

The gruff, annoyance-tinged voice of Aria managed to jerk him from his thoughts, as he examined the pickings of the base. Pretty slim pickings, by the show of it. And he had only very rudimentary training with guns. He wisely only picked a single SiG handgun of of the basket, while gearing himself with a flak jacket. He pondered on the gravity of head injuries and wearing a helmet, but for the same reason of scarcity, he opted to leave it for the girls.He did put on a balaclava to conceal his face and identity, though. It was their fight first and foremost, he was just an addon. His revenge could never get into the way of that. The melee weapons, on the other hand... offered a much better perspective, but they were kind of rudimentary. He weighted an icepick in his hand. It would do it. Sturdy and pointy.

And then the travel in the van. Lyn made a comment about the suspension being poor and having no money to fix it, but Miro was focusing his attention elsewhere. He had clamped his sight to his feet once again. A van full of girls with poor transmission...So much jiggling ensued from the more endowed members. And he was a male afterall.

"30 Seconds!" The  voice of Aria announced. [i]Is she always so gruff and pissed?[/i] Miro wondered. Before discarding all thoughts.

"I am sorry. It will be scary." He said, almost in a hushed whisper, clenching his fist and teeth.

20 Seconds.

He cracked his knuckles and neck, and let out a sigh.

10 Seconds.

All sound died out. His mind became fire. His pulse accelerated. A single thought circled through his mind. [b][i][color=red]KILL[/color][/i][/b].His gaze dulled and focused. Power reserves coursed through his body. The bruise didn't matter now.

He was the lion. And this was his hunting pride.

0 Seconds.

The doors of the van slammed open, bringing the full battlefield into view. It was a three vehicle convoy, with the van of the middle being larger than the rest. The first vehicle was a mess, full of smoke and fire, and the escort personal were outside the first and third vehicles, like a swarm of angry bees, their guns roaring at the opponents in front. Their attention had not been caught yet. Miro's legs exploded in a burst of speed, running with all of his swiftness and might towards the first target.

He was fully armored, from head to toe. He knew that a single gun couldn't make it. The ice pick might not prove enough to pierce his defense quickly enough. So he resorted to the one way he could kill someone that armored while ignoring all the defense. His hands deftly shot towards the neck and top of the head, much like the MMA holds he had been so fond of. Except, that this time, there was no tapping out.

[b][i][color=red]KILL THEM ALL. FOR OLGA.[/color][/i][/b]His thoughts urged him as he applied leveraged and pressure.

"WHAT THE-!??" The trooper managed to mutter before in a single swift strike, the neck turned in an awkward angle, and he slumped, losing all control from neck down. He began to gasp for air, unable to talk, drool spewing all over. Miro's grip didn't falter though, as he grabbed the neutralized and probably tetraplegic for life soldier as impromptu bullet shield, before charging on a second soldier, picking up the discarded soldier's weapon as he aimed for suppression fire before the second target could react.

"Die." Miro snarled, in an uncharacteristic somber voice.