Bryan accepted the canteen with thanks, and took a long drink of the water, as his apparent rescuer explained who she was, and what she was doing here. Replacing the cap on the canteen, he set it down as he slowly sat up properly.
"To answer your questions - We're on Buka Island, which is part of Bougainville Province of Papua New Guinea. My name is Bryan Winterman, Canadian Armed Forces MP. As for the NWA, well - your guess is as good as mine, but I stumbled across them doing some kind of arms deal on the quayside with a submarine captain. I'm guessing they have some sort of plan... I kind of, well. Stole their shit, and they took offence to that, and now they're trying to find me. Still, I figured it's better out of their hands, ey?"
He hesitated, and judged her reaction. She seemed professional, if a little young. But nonetheless, she was keeping a close eye on him with both her drone, and her personal weapon in a position to be quickly snapped up to her hand.
Bryan was about to say more, when a polite voice interrupted both of them.

"All three of you, don't move an inch! I've got a... erm... sniper, watching this area. Tell me who you all are and no one will get hurt." He menacingly bared his AKS-74U and he saw the equally menacing glare of the scope from the rocks where Aoi had positioned himself. "I'm not with the NWA, if you're wondering."

Bryan looked startled for a moment, and raised his hands in supplication to the newcomer.
"Easy now," he said, slowly climbing to his feet, still a little wobbly, but feeling much better. "Let's not do anything rash, ey? There's enough NWA running around trying to kill all of us, let alone us start shooting each other. I'm Bryan Winterman, Canadian Forces; Military Police. And this is Alika. We've only just met too. I'm glad to hear you're [i]not[/i] with the NWA." 
He looked over the man, seeing his obvious asian features and his lack of uniform, before he gave a grim smile. "Of course, you don't exactly look like the type, if you don't mind me saying". 

***

Elsewhere, and a short distance away, the NWA soldiers attacked Kyle fell, shouting in pain and chaos. Most had fallen dead where he shot, while others were in no condition to fight back. The remaining men scattered and fired back from the cover of the truck, or by the roadside. Their rifles chattered and popped in reply to the hammering bursts of Kyle's heavier weapon.
"Let's just get the hell out of here!" one of the soldiers urged to the others. "The bitch in the back can rot, and we don't need this prisoner anyway!"
"The boss will kill us if we leave without her," his squad mate urged, his eyes wide. "We should-" 
He was cut off as his skull was perforated by one of Kyles' rounds. Cursing and muttering, the remaining man scattered into the jungle, leaving the truck unattended, aside from the dead and dying.