Norman led his group down the edge of the wide moonlit road a bit away from the warehouse. Then, they crossed out of view of the two guards stationed at the entrance. One of the other teams followed, with the third going the opposite way.
Crossing to the warehouse side, eleven shadows slunk through the darkness towards their targets. Sky’s breath came short and fast as they neared the entrance, and he gripped his knife tighter as the pressure inside his head began to build.
Once they hid in the darkness of the warehouse's outer wall, Norman held up a fist, and they all stopped. Norman then nodded at Sam and Duke, and they detached themselves from the team. Working over to the corner of the warehouse.
With a burst of speed, the two slid out from their spot and hit the ground running. Only a few meters from the door, they left no time for the guards to react. In perfect unison, the two men drew their revolvers. A gold and silver flash was seen, followed by two popping noises.
A small splatter of blood flew out of each guard's head as they unceremoniously crumpled to the ground—each one with a hole the size of a quarter missing between their eyes. Duke and Sam immediately turned and ran back toward the group. As they did so, the second team moved into action; the five members had turned around the corner the second the gunshots rang out. They drew their revolvers and formed a loose line facing the door.
A moment after Duke and Sam ducked behind the corner of the warehouse again, three more goons burst out from the door. However, the vipers showed no mercy, and by the time they noticed the bodies lying on the ground, it was too late. The first man took a shot in the eye and went down like a doll with its strings cut, dead. The second’s body jerked back as he fell to the ground in convulsions, blood seeping from three large holes in his chest.
The third man was luckier, only taking a bullet to the arm; clutched in his wounded hand was a gun of his own. After taking the hit, he fired back wildly, damaging only the nearby walls and road. He grabbed his arm to stop the bleeding and retreated inside the door.
“Move in,” Norman spoke for the first time since they had started. After all, the gunfire was bound to alert the enemy and attract unwanted attention. They were now on a time limit.
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Following his orders, Talon rushed ahead to the doorway. The other members of his team followed behind. Team two’s members split, with three taking cover near the door and two leaving to circle the building and check for other exits.
Talon, meanwhile, used one of his knives to stab a hole through the wooden door. Peaking past it, he noticed one man half hidden behind an upturned crate, with another leaning on the ground just past the door.
“Got one for you,” Talon said, waving at Norman to come closer. As he drew near, Talon once again plunged his knife into the door, creating a second hole slightly lower. Norman drew up to it and placed the barrel of his revolver inside, then looking through the small gap created by the first hold, he lined up to the man inside and fired. A pained scream sounded from inside, signalling that the bullet had hit its mark.
Even though they had just cleared the way, no one moved. Instead, they all sat around waiting for something. Everyone but Sky seemed to be on the same page as they counted under their breaths. When sixty seconds had passed hower, they leaped back into action, quickly checking the hole. Talon gave an all-clear, and Rook, followed by Same and Duke, entered the warehouse. Instead of following, however, Talon left, rushing around the building towards the duo who had left earlier to provide support.
Sky stepped over the body in the doorway, almost puking at the blood; living in the slums, the smell didn't bother him much, and blood was a common sight as well. What caused his disgust and turned his stomach was the bloodstained white and grey sludge spilling out of the holes and splattering the wall behind.
Entering the building, Sky glanced at the man lying between the door and the small barricade. The veins on his arm were swollen and black, his eyes bulged out, his right hand still clutching his gun. The blood coming out of his arm was blacked and carried a foul odour that stung at his nose.
Sky quickly attempted to pass the body, but a voice from behind stopped him.
“Grab his gun; it should have some bullets left,” Norman instructed Sky.
Turning back around, Sky bent down and picked up the gun. Like most personal firearms, it was a revolver-style pistol. Clicking open the chamber, Sky saw four empty holes glare back at him. However, two glistening lead rounds sat in place.
He clicked the chamber back into position and, with the revolver in his left and knife in his right, climbed over the barricade. Behind it lay another body, this one with a wound in the left shoulder; the wound had the same black veins reaching out from it as the previous one. Poison Sky thought to himself. This is why authorities are so powerful; just one scratch from an augmented weapon and they fall dead.
Suddenly, gunfire rang out from ahead towards the back of the warehouse. Both Sky and Norman rushed forward, revolvers in hand. As Sky came around a shelf, the fight came into view; it was already over. Two bodies lay on the ground, one dead, his left eye a gory hole of mangled flesh. The other lay on the ground, already gasping for air as black veins began to spread from a knife stuck in his leg.
Behind the man was a small room, most likely a place for storing warehouse documents. Going over to it, Rook tried to turn the knob. When that didn't work, he brought up his foot, and with a crash, the door flew open; inside were the hostages.