What - or rather who - didn't burst in the fiery rain was ignited quickly by either Woo or Mark as Woo strategically advanced into the heart of enemy territory. As explosion after explosion fell against the hurried troops scrambling around, Woo, for a moment, realized who was dying: Vancouvians. But he quickly shook himself out of it when two men rushed out of a building and faced him, dropping them quickly with his rifle, the sound of gunfire almost being completely swept away by the chaos of jumbled and wounded men dashing nowhere quickly.
Woo targeted a large building, the cafeteria, and swiftly made his way to the side entrance. Peeking through a window, he saw several men tied and anxious, piling their bodies into a corner, using their legs to back away from something. Woo searched for the problem; half of the roof had caved in, a fire had started, and the men were trapped between two options: gunfire or just fire. Not hesitating, the lieutenant burst through the door, dispatched three tangos who were the ones unlucky enough to still be guarding the hostages, and then quickly moved to untie a few of his sergeants. When they were all free, Woo's eyes scanned his men. They weren't all there.
Woo looked to his second command, who motioned at the rubble of the collapsed roof. At least ten lifeless bodies, some traitors, some his, stuck pinned under the brick and metal and flames; dead or dying, there was no time to do anything but get the men he still could out. Collecting weapons, what was left of the 7th platoon made their way outside to the freezing cold and burning flames, plowed through the chaos of nighttime war and destruction, and retreated into the forest.
