"Da more, da merrier." Vasily called, his accent still very thick and very clearly Russian (or at least Slavic for those who didn't have an ear for things). Just as he did, he heard a step behind him and moved to the right as an arm holding a knife thrust where his head once was. Okay, so maybe it wasn't completely powerless. He couldn't shift, but his senses were still on point.
Quickly he reached out and grabbed the realistic enemies wrist with one hand while connecting the elbow of his other arm to his opponents head. With a bit of effort he twisted the holographic wrist enough to get him to release the knife, grabbed it just as it started to fall and met the blade to the fake chest. A moment later, the enemy combatant had vanished from play, along with his weapon.
Vasily moved around to the other side of cover, a bit curious as to who decided to join him.