Bryan had changed his course and direction a number of times as he made his way through the jungle. The wound on his arm was beginning to hurt, throbbing and tingling as he went, and the sleeve of the shirt he'd thrown on was stained red around the gunshot wound. 
Nonetheless, he struggled on, before finally coming across a small clearing with a couple of ramshackle buildings around the outskirts. It looked like a construction site of sorts, abandoned when the war broke out. Making a quick decision, he darted behind a pile of earth bordering a trench dug for foundations. Dumping his heavy bag behind a nearby half-finished wall, he grabbed a spade and the bag with the detonators in, and dug deeper into the bottom of the trench. Digging a deep but fairly even hole, he glanced around and his eyes fell upon a steel toolbox. cramming the detonators in, he placed the box in the hole, and then buried the package, stamping the earth flat evenly along the bottom of the trench, and dumping the excess with the pile of dug-out earth nearby.
Task done, he dragged himself into the cover of one of the buildings and changed clothes, putting back on his BDU's and his load-bearing gear. The natives were not friendly, and it was time to defend himself and try to make some impact on the enemy - or find help. 
He'd heard plenty of shots while running, and there'd been little pursuit. Something had put off the bad guys; maybe he already had help? And there must be some opposition to the NWA in the area. Memorising the location, he took one last look around, and then turned and headed deeper into the jungle, moving quietly and cautiously, MP-5 held loosely in both hands as he moved through the thick tree-trunks and undergrowth. 
Pausing, he felt his head swim, and his arms droop with the effort of holding the SMG as his arm throbbed. Leaning against a tree for stability, he winced and fought against the sudden weight of his eyelids, before forcing himself to stand up as he heard movement ahead. 
Ducking into cover, he crouched behind a stand of shrubs. A soft electronic whining sounded, and he craned his neck out slightly, and raised an eyebrow as a small robotic drone entered the clearing. Half-raising his MP-5, he tried to take aim cautiously, but instead his vision wavered again, and the Canadian passed out unconscious.