sender grabs receiver by the collar.
A massive shape comes barreling out of the smoke and there's no time for Chris to react. He hears the distorted voice calling out for him almost as if it isn't right in his face. Great. He's in the air before he can fire, a large hand gripping his tactical vest. A hand tries to wrap around the tyrants giant wrist if only to hope it'll relieve some pressure. His boots kick for leverage against the wall but the grip only tightens. "Not happening." he mutters.
He's only lifted higher forcing Chris to make a decision. His eyes scan the immediate vicinity and he sees the exposed tubing on the forearm. His combat knife is driven right into a large vein sinking deep and deeper. This causes a jerk and Chris uses it to his advantage. He twists slamming his boots into the monster's chest gaining just enough force to drop free.