From the radio came Rattus's words, We're just behind the topographical crest.

Reaching into a different bag, Rattus pulled out two bungee cords.

Rob "Rattus" Hampson, a Special Forces Medic, "you are already medical personnel.

Now, with Wahab holding a flashlight, Rattus attempted to staunch some pretty severe bleeding.

As he did, he heard the on-board radio say, Rattus, Biggus; we're ninety seconds out.

Below him, Rattus drove with his left hand, firing a rifle out the right side.

Little Joe and Rattus arrived a few seconds later.

Fletcher, Rattus Hampson, Vic Babcock-Moore, and Wahab all sighed.

It had rodent-like feet but its tail was too short to be of the genus Rattus.

Neither Rattus nor Buckwheat tried to kill them.

As Rattus pulled out another auto injector, Naing asked, "Is this going to hurt much?"

Gotta save this limey, Rattus thought.

Then there's Rattus and Fletcher.

Before Rattus could answer, the plane was surging down the runway, flanked by the burning wrecks of the Ophiri proto-Air Force.

They carefully laid Vic in the back of the Hummer, then Rattus carelessly tossed his aid bag in the passenger seat.

Slightly to the north, nearly next door, in fact, Rattus and Little Joe made a show of inspecting the wares in Augustine's Antiques.