Voodoo keeps up the pressure on the wound as Dinah gets up, his gloves slicking with blood.

"Careful," he warns. "For booby traps."

He lets his head fall back to the grass as he focuses on taking big, deep breaths. Then his tactical sense pops in and he unfastens his helmet before setting it beneath his head, propping the front grip of his MP5 on his opposing forearm as he scans the forest ahead of them.

His index finger is light on the trigger. Just in case there's more than one.