Maybe open to Juliet. Language warning.
"Son of a bitch," James grumbled to himself as he opened his eyes. It was bright out there. As he blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust, a few of his other senses came onboard. He could hear a slightly muffled crashing sound, along with a cacophony of shouts and screams. Peachy. He was definitely lying on the ground, but it wasn't the hard asphalt he'd expected. In fact, it felt an awful lot like sand. His various limbs were filtering into the picture now and they unfortunately brought some pain along with them.
The last thing James remembered was a car slamming into the one he happened to be sitting in with Miles. And now he was lying on the goddamn beach? Must have been some impact. The more aware he became, the more one of his legs decided to let him know that it hurt. "Motherfucker," he winced as he sat up, his head reeling slightly. Once it stopped, the world painted a pretty screwed up picture for him. "Aw, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me," James voiced his disbelief. A plane crash? He'd been in a piece of shit car. He'd been home from Australia for weeks. So what was this? He didn't have a damn clue, that was for sure. James grunted as he got to his feet. His left leg wasn't taking any of that though, and he had to quickly shift all of his weight to the right before he found himself in the sand again.
"Miles!" he called, looking as far about him as he could without turning his legs. No deal. They'd all had their goddamn disaster training. "Of course," he shook his head. Like his hobbling around was going to do anyone any good. Still, he checked that he still had his piece and his badge, not that he had any jurisdiction here. Last time he'd checked, home hadn't had a jungle. But he was still going to try. His first step wasn't very successful though. It involved more stumbling and swearing than stepping. The next one was better. He even managed to make it to a nearby figure in the sand, but surprise, surprise, they didn't actually need saving on account of already being dead. He made a frustrated noise and ineffectually threw a handful of sand out in front of him. His eyes followed the direction the wind took it though, and settled on someone struggling to crawl away from the fuselage. The man's leg was.. less leg and certainly in a worse condition than his own. But what worried James was the wing hanging off the plane above him. He did not trust the look of it.
"Hey blondie!" he called out to the blonde woman that was standing none too far away. "You wanna get Ahab there outta the path of that?" he pointed to the wing. "It's jus', between me an' him, by the time I got there, well, we'd both be pancakes." He hoped she'd heard him, because he was about to hobble off and see if he couldn't find anyone else to shout orders at. It was better than concentrating on the pain in his leg or how in the hell he'd managed to find himself in a goddamn plane crash.