"Alright, who here can hold a gun?", Weed queried the crowd before him. He wondered how so many prisoners evaded the guards to get there without weapons or disguises, but he didn't care. He gave out the eight Glocks to the prisoners who seemed most able to use them, and they set out to guard the area. Borrowing a pair of tables from the control room, they made a makeshift barricade, which would hopefully provide some cover in the open hallway. A guard showed himself, and was met with a hail of lead. "Dammit, don't waste your ammo!", Weed barked, squeezing in a Pashto expletive wherever one would fit. "One shot is enough to kill!". The AR-15 he was equipped with could penetrate a guard's armor if fired precisely enough, so unlike what he commanded his ragtag squad to do, he didn't bother sticking to head and limb shots. He saw one prisoner fall, spilling blood across the hall, but he pressed on and kept mowing down guards. Whenever a guard appeared, he aimed as well as he could at whatever part of his body was most exposed, and fired, usually seeing a fountain of blood erupt from the guard's body. "This is just a game of 3D target practice", he thought. He discovered that the guards were no match for him, since he was a grizzled war veteran, and they were little more than guys with guns. He heard Xenon's orders, and realized that he didn't know nearly as much about the prison as Xenon. "What the heck is an AID?", he responded. "Agency for International Development? Artificial Insemination by Donor?"