"Jameson! Get the medkit." The Lead mercenary called out, going first to the man with the gun. Kicking the pistol far away from him, He held the man at gunpoint.
"Let's go, hands behind your back!" He screamed, and should the battered young man comply, he'd be the first to be zip tied with his hands behind his back, and dragged him towards the curb to seat him down. Should he struggle or resist, an even more severe beating would transpire, this one involving the ends of plasma rifles. All while
strange sirens echoed in the distance.
The wounded Joe would be the next one to immediately be treated. The Aschen mercenary moved quickly, throwing the plasma rifle across his back and placing a firm hand on Joe's bleeding wound, while grabbing his radio.
"Two Seven Eight, Hotel Bravo, requesting medics priority one, Hagan Avenue and Main Street. Also requesting a Supervisor."
"Acknowledged, Two-Seven-Eight, Medical Dispatch confirmed, ETA One Millicenton." The Mercenary continued to press on Joe's sternum, blood seeping through the man's fingers.
"You're going to be alright, stay with me..." He said in a hushed tone, unclasping a small satchel with his free hand. "This is going to hurt, just relax." He said, tearing an envelope filled with some kind of powder with his teeth and pouring the contents into the wound, the pain could be described as a searing burn, as the powder erupted into a foam like substance, disinfecting the wound and chemically cauterizing blood vessels.
"Relax, stay with me." Jameson said, while the lead moved onto the others, following the same procedure of securing them and moving towards the curb, keeping his eyes on the van.