[He's pretty impressed by how well Sam's handling himself, but the suggestion's a good one all the same.]
Yeah, I should find myself a knife. Need something for close quarters anyway, and it would save on some bullets.
[He glances about. Just two more raptors, that he can see, and they's pausing, looking at their fallen comrades and apparently finding the truth in that saying about discretion and valour. After a long, tense moment, they start to back away, and Jack lets out a breath of relief.]
Phew! Think we're okay for now. How many of those damn things are there, though?