"I know what two sirs means, Radar," he calls after him. In the realm of 'fuck off'. Great, now Radar is treating him how he used to treat Frank. Never before in his life has he wished for an easy guilt-free target for his ire to present itself so badly. If Frank walked through the door he'd kiss the bastard on the mouth before tearing him to pieces.

But what is there to do, really? Aside from calling the enforcers and waiting for someone else to do something. Neither Radar nor Hawk are built for the front lines, they're ambulance chasers. Waiting for disaster to strike somewhere else so they can deal with the aftermath.

So Hawk posts up out on the porch. Tries not to entertain the idea of riding back out into the forest to look for survivors. It won't help. Radar is doing the useful parts. All he can do is wait to see if anyone lived long enough for help.