Booth was quick. Before the hunter that had popped up had a chance to do anything, the FBI agent had managed to raise his weapon and train it on the bastard. The hunter froze, momentarily, hands rising upward in uncertainty, but the sound of footsteps treading behind him made him brave. He began to put his arms down again, knowing that he had back-up. Sam didn't give him the chance to make a move, nor did he care if he even planned to. While Booth had tried to warn the other hunter off, Sam simply raised his gun -- a stainless steel Taurus PT-92 9mm pistol -- and aimed it at the man's forehead. All that anger that was rushing around inside him, leading every step that he made into the building, drove Sam to pull the trigger on his gun. A bulled tore free of the barrel and buried itself square into the hunters head. He went down and Sam pushed past Booth and moved forward, the fact that he had just taken a human life barely processing through his mind as he advanced onward.
He didn't care. Didn't care about anything right now, except saving Ruby. She was who he was here for. Not them, the hunters who had ripped her away from him. For all Sam could be bothered, they could all rot in hell.
He worked silently. Didn't say a thing to Booth or anyone else, just kept moving and watching for any targets that might well beg for the attention of his gun. Another hunter, this time a young, slightly more built man than the last, jumped out from a side room and tried to gut Sam with a jagged military knife, but Sam had seen him coming. He doubled back, dodged the knife, and shoved him into the wall behind him. The hunter twisted around and swung at Sam again, knife dicing it's way through the outer edges of Sam's jacket just around his right side as Sam narrowly avoided being cut open again. At the same time, another hunter appeared, going for Booth just behind him.
"You shouldn't have gotten involved in this," the hunter growled, lashing out at Booth with a knife of his own.