Five-Five-Eight crouched in the grass, clutching the shotgun he had picked up from a drop. There was no sign of his team anywhere around, but he knew better than to trust the IV's to do anything. The II crept forward slowly, waiting for his moment to strike. A blip on his radar and the sound of footsteps caused him to activate his active camo AA. Sure enough, a second later, a blue team IV walked around the corner, DMR raised, watching for the invisible enemy. Five-Five-Eight could only imagine the thoughts running through the IV's head about where he was, eyes darting about as sweat trickled down his face. When the IV turned the other way, and the counter on his Active Camo was about to expire, the II leapt into action. Stepping up quickly behind the IV, he wrapped his arm around the other's neck, active camo disappearing to reveal the tall, much bigger SPARTAN II. In the next second, he threw the IV to the ground, leaping ontop of him and driving the enemy's own knife as well as his own into the open patches where the IV's ribs were left open. There was a gasp, followed by a dying moan of pain as the IV went limp, another kill stacked up for Five-Five-Eight. The II took a moment to pause, enjoying the sound of the match's MC proclaiming, "ASSASSINATION!" And satisfied that he hadn't needed to waste any precious shotgun ammo in the process. The feeling was there for an instant, and then the SPARTAN backed into the shadows, moving out towards the next area, one thought on his mind. "I'm coming for your score, Six"