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“Alright,” I mumble, then do the same. I grab the loose end, placing my boots on the building and pulling my weight up to scale the building. I watch my feet and Ronan as well, moving stealthily with no strain.
He makes it to the top, and sits on the edge, then swoops his long leg over; I’m right behind him, and he clasps my hand, pulling me with me. Next is Chris; then Boone—the rest follow suit.
We continue forward, the dingy back door entrance already in our sights. Ronan quickly unlocks the door with his intricate pins and switches. Each of us raises our weapons, standing in formation behind Ronan like a caterpillar. I rest my hand on his shoulder, and Chris’s is light on mine.
Ronan twists the knob, and it swings open, letting in the night light. He cocks his head in, then strolls in slowly. Chris taps my shoulder, then I tap Ronan’s signaling it's safe for us to keep going. We tread toward a closed staircase that leads down to another door with a rectangular window with a sign that says ‘Level Two.’
Ronan peers through the window and nods. “Slow and steady. Kill with silence if you can,” he mumbles in the earpiece.
“Got it.” Wicked’s voice comes through.
“No promises,” Red says.
He turns the knob, and very slowly we slide in. It's lowlight vision, as we suspected. I notice there are wooden barrels lining the walls.
The inside is laid like a shed mixed with a factory. Similar to the destroyed building in Dreary Hill. A secluded area is tucked to the side of the metal balcony which holds additional wooden barrels. Ahead and down below is a maze of additional metal shelving that reach the ceiling, filled with storage boxes. There are two sets of staircases leading down on either side of the room.
Large pipes and white insulation layer the ceiling, and there are brown boxes stacked on top of one another in rows of six. We move to it kneeling to hide behind them.
“There are ten men down below, holding AKs, but more are in the front,” Bedford says in my ear. “Team Red is walking down as I speak.”
Sweat rolls down my back, peeking through the tiny gap where I can get a view of the lower level where three men walk right past.
Grunts and rattles echo, and they quickly snap behind them and rush to the sound. “So much for no noise.”
“Inevitable,” Ronan says, he looks at us and motions his hands out with three fingers then signals two for me, him, and Chris. Shuffling happens behind me, and Boone leaves to the other end on the right. I raise my weapon, following Ronan to the left, the metal creaking slightly.
“Five men heading around the corner. Your direction,” Bedford inclines.
Ronan keeps behind the wall. I tap his shoulder and lower my center of gravity, rushing to the other side behind a lower stack of boxes. Louder bangs ring out, followed by gunshots. My stomach rolls into a ball; I place my finger on the trigger.
I glance back at Levon who makes sure no one comes behind. I look at Ronan and he returns my gaze. “It's on,” he says.
“Dammit!” one man shouts, and the footsteps speed up faster toward us.
Three.
He puts his hand on the handle.
Two.
I breathe through my nostrils.
One.
We raise our weapons and fire at the men rushing toward us. An array of shouts cut through the building, and it’s not so subtle anymore.
Bullets pierce the boxes shielding me, and I shift over to not get hit.
“Come the fuck out!” a loud, boisterous voice shouts, but the bullets pause.
They're reloading.
Ronan moves out and fires off three more rounds. I roll out, kneeling as two men run from around the corner, and I shoot one in the thigh and the other in his shoulder.
They scream in pain, tumbling down onto the boxes. Ronan shoots them in the head right after they fall. Quick on our feet, we step over the dead men to rush to the corner they came from.
Cries and screams resound, and my chest squeezes in anticipation. “Location!” Ronan shouts, his AK at shoulder level, twisting and motioning as we rush down a walkway lined with metal shelves that store more boxes and crates.