And it was something Sean did before getting out, the gear selected into first, something he hadn't really paid much thought to. Then again, he wasn't in the business of stealing cars. It wouldn't go anywhere for now, at least it might be more difficult to take, the Irishman reasoned. FAL back in hand, they were headed east, Sean giving a simple nod to Hayden as he backed him up, letting him lead into the street, and then around into the old market and into a tight alley, the access towards Melani's place.

The market felt eerie, the lights were out, and there was nothing but floodlighting left on now from generators and various setups in the distance. The traders in the night market had gone, they would ply their wares in the colder evening light, but no such thing. It was silent. Eerily so, and dark too. No NODs, and canvases over the roofs between the clay-brick buildings made the area even darker, their night vision naturally having to adjust as they moved through. Like a Souk, but far more sodden and less built up. Stalls were left, no goods in them of course, but it was left behind. There was nobody here. They had either run into the castle, or gone home.

"Lots of possible avenues in. Recommend we don't go loud for now, we may want to pick off guards as isolated as we can." Bethan commented, the other FN-made weapon she held kept tight, knowing that if things went loud, four mercs that were as well armed as them could at least hold their own against surprised. For how long, that she wondered.

"See, told you my way of it might work." Sean wryly replied, adjusting his baseball cap, covering another alley as they passed it through, heading towards a small opening in the market itself. A handful of stalls in the middle, just past where the mystery meat Hayden had picked up were left in the middle of it with a few guards around. The moonlight pierced the alley, a weird eerie world interrupted by gunfire and loud crashing of mortar shells into the distance, where all hell was breaking loose.

"Might spare us getting put up on rebar....shit, contacts, 50m. Three of them on that courtyard. Got a shooter on the roof too, looks like some sort of marksman rifle." She commented, as Sean broke from the team, finding a wall to get up against, while Bethan moved behind a stall, looking to Yekatarina, then at Hayden.

"Probably best we don't hit them. Wait them out, see if they move." Bethany calmly commented, Sean looking over at the group, then back at her.
"No chance. They're guards, not looters, they're not moving. Neither SAMC or COGS either, they have to be Melani's people. But we go loud here, we risk alerting the compound." Sean retorted, looking at the guy on the roof, the same Bethan took a glance at before she turned to the rest of the team, adjusting her boonie herself and her tactical pack, aware there wasn't going to be an easy way around this.

"Thoughts then? I might be able to flank them out, keep a low profile and if she can get onto his roof, drop that guy up there. Those guards down the bottom need some sort of distraction...you might be able to isolate them and drop them quiet if we can if you can get close enough to them. Might be half an idea to scavenge whatever you can to that end to distract them. Or put something together." Her thoughts were to the fact that well, they were in a market- there had to be something, surely? And if Hayden, Yekatarina and Sean could figure something out, they could get into the yard at least.

"This isn't Ikea. But I'm all ears."

The roll up is steady the four are masters of their crafts after all. They know what they are doing. But this may not be like what any of them are quite used too. This isn't normal battle or war. This is chaos. Explosions in the distance, the sound of smalls arms fire. People running from the fights all over the city. This is anarchy in a country that was already on it's way to collapse.

As the four approach the market they had been lead through before to reach Melani, the situation is strange. Where before the place had been bustling and lively, albeit strained, it was dead now. Dead and silent. No movement whatsoever from anywhere. It's so very strange. But then Sean had spotted the Tangos. Hayden quickly darted into cover, peaking around the corner he had put himself behind counting bodies, "Right yeah spot on. Three below...a fourth on high." He hums looking up above him, "Anyone wanna put money that there might be a few more Tangos inside and around?" He hummed, "Maybe that's our ticket?" He gestures at the building surrounding, "Think we can find a way in, move through the buildings? Skirt the shooters out here, the walls and hallways will muffle any shots we need to make." He looks at the other three curiously, wondering what they think of the idea.

He then gestures outside into the kill zone, "Or...we rock and roll...and may end up with a much much bigger fire fight here. I suppose I could post up somewhere, lay down some surpression fire while you guys rolls in under it and take down anyone who tries to make a move?" He nods, "That's if we're feeling belligerent." He grins, "I ain't gonna put thoughts into no one's heads here. But I don't want to bring the entire complex down on us right now. Maybe we sneak through the building, clean and quick, get to the bitch inside, snip the head of the snake before we start a mini war while another war is going on around us? huh? How's that sound?"

He's about to give another look before he reaches up and pulls everyone into cover, the reason, that sharp shooter up above just swung whatever they have around and they are looking in their direction, "Down down! Let's not give away our position right away." He sighs and kinda whispers, "That marksman is going to be a big thorn if we fight. He's not going to be easy to work around."

“Definitely through the buildings.” Yekaterina agreed with Hayden’s assessment. Inside buildings, both sides would be able to use the confined quarters for chokepoints, but once again they would have surprise on their side. And once again she was reminded of Chechnya and Grozny, except this time around the city hadn’t been battered by Grads, Uragans, the occasional Tochka and scorched by Buratinos. Back then, many smaller buildings hadn’t even resembled buildings anymore. Unlike Grozny, this place hadn’t been turned into a damn fortress. No point doing that since both warrign sides had already been inside. Still, the fact remained that much like back then, the other side were home here and knew the place inside and out. She wished they had grenades.

“After all, getting inside structures is my trade.” She added with a confident grin, “And most of these svolochi look about ten kilos underweight. If you two,” The Russian gestured to hayden and Sean, “take point, even the close quarters won’t be much of a problem. Beth and can bring up the back.” Not ideal, she hated being rearguard, but she’d rather the boys break the skinnies’ scrawny necks if it came to fisticuffs and be done with it than having to fight with them on more equal grounds herself. Underfed they might have been, she wasn’t the biggest or strongest either.

“One thing I’m worried about is this: The deeper we get without raising trouble, the more we’ll have in our backs once it starts going off. Do we start pruning the weeds as we go, since it will have to go loud eventually anyway?”

"Done, that works for me." Beth replied, before Sean could even get a word in, the Welshwoman clutching her FNC in hand and nodding to the Irishman, aware that while he'd be frustrated with that, it did make sense. Taking down the guys on the roof risked a bigger fight, and while Bethan liked the idea of taking them out fast, avoiding would be the best route if they could take it. Got them closer, but made it harder on the way out.

"We'll need to work with what we can prune when the opportunity arises. We've got nowt in the way of quiet weaponry, so moment we open up, we are fucked. We deal with whatever happens from that point forward." Sean put bluntly, Beth shrugging.
"Better that crucifying bitch is dead though if we get there though, eh?" She nonchalantly commented, and with that, Sean was on point, the team clambering out from cover out into a building at the side.

Sean kept his P226 in hand, FAL on back for the time being, in a point shooting stance. He had aggression and timing on his side, that at least would come to something. He's never had to kill anyone in close quarters in the army, well, outside so far, that had happened a few times. So he was ready for everything, his machete in close reach and accessible if he needed it. He reasoned he was tall enough to at least rugby tackle one of them worst came to it, and the fact that four in a room with specialist training would be able to batter someone. And so far, so quiet, the small complex. Up a set of stairs, and they were going through an alley of what seemed like some sort of flats, enclosed on all sides, and out of sight. There was nobody here, anyone sane had run because they knew what turf this was.

It grew inside of Beth that there was probably good reason- nothing good could happen from being a bystander here. She looked across to Yekatarina, moving the corner and covering the Russian, aware she was laser focussed, and a capable breacher.
"So what's your plan when we get to the compound, clamber in somehow?" She asked, wondering out loud a little perhaps, as Sean turned the next corner, then pulling back as he saw a handful of militants come along the alley, pushing back against Hayden and putting his hand up to the rest of the team.

"Shit...incoming." Sean barely uttered it, hearing them chatting among themselves, and very much aware that shit was about to hit the fan. The gang members were coming their way. There must have been at least three, from what he could tell. This could turn into a shitshow fast- two at once might have been capable, but more than that, it was risky. Sean wasn't thinking too much on that, as he took his machete, looking across to Hayden, knowing if they wanted to keep quiet, this might be a better shot. On the corner it would be tough to take them down, and it wasn't even the first time they'd got their knives out either- the P226 spare in hand, he could at least keep it out if they did need to open fire.
"Go for the first, H, I'll nab the next. The girls can have the rest."

Hayden nodded and got to his feet, the quartet falling back down the alley a short ways, trying to find a way inside. Hayden slung the big Bren from his shoulder and reaching down brought up his Hi-Power checking it quickly and pulling his tomahawk as well. They drifted back and as they went he tried to peek into windows, finding many of them boarded or barred over the inside of the first floor some of the rooms seemed purposefully filled with out furniture. He grumbled softly as they went, then bumped into Sean. Hayden stumbled and peered around, "Fuck, of fucking course." He nodded and slips around in front of Sean, "Get ready boys and girls..." He hissed. They waited, the militants babbling away to each other.

They were almost on them when Hayden threw himself forward, picking up the one in the lead, carrying him across to the other side of the alley bodily carrying the woman on his shoulder, until with a crunch and something breaking in the woman's hip he'd slammed her against the alley wall. He's too busy wrestling with her to look over his shoulder. He grunts but gives no room as the woman slams her head into his lips, and he can feel something pop as his lip splits. Keeping his finger off the trigger he brings it up and gives the woman a pistol whip upper cut. Rattling her.

A first swing slaps her gun from her hands. A hand numbed by the blunt end of the tomahawk blade smacking into it. Hayden staggers back as he gets a knee to his stomach. The woman fighting like some feral animal. And that's about when things go Red and White for Hayden. His mouth opening in a silent berzerker growl. Nose of the pistol to the womans cheek, knowing her back, and with a crunch the pointed blade of the tomahawk hits her in the temple. He then sweeps her feet, and that's where they find him, hammering away at the woman, eyes unfocused, mouth open in a silent animal like snarl as again the tomahawk falls, splitting something else. And again, another crunch....and again....and again...

It made sense that the ground-level windows and/or rooms were blocked. Secure them so you don’t have to guard them, keep a few passages you can guard. She could deal with window boards with little issue, but any bigger barricades would be a problem. With the patrol approaching, Yekaterina moved her rifle to her back to get it out of the way. She briefly considered using the halligan for a weapon - knowing what the spike could do to a car hood made her morbidly curious for a moment - but it wasn’t appropriate for this situation. The situation called for speed and silence, and keeping this down would be hard enough without swinging around five kilos of 1040 steel. Besides, the day’s been a damn rollercoaster and a lot of it was still ahead, so if she could avoid tiring herself out like that, all the better. The half-empty magazine from the checkpoint breakthrough was a better, disposable tool. If time permitted, she’d have to search the bodies for a knife or a baton.

Yekaterina unfortunately didn’t have time to watch Hayden destroy his skinny along with the wall, there were more where that one came from. Unwilling to try to tackle her target and bet on surprise now that her three compatriots had begun their attack, she instead aimed to disable. Taking a swing at his right wrist with the magazine in her left, the strike ought to have been enough to make him drop whatever he was holding. Chiefly though, it was a distraction that opened the door for a right cross to his windpipe. She may have been just a featherweight, but a hit to all the cartilage in the throat was a great equalizer. She may have even hit an artery, she wasn’t sure, but the guy certainly wasn’t having a good time going by the sounds he was making as he stumbled backwards. She threw the magazine in the general direction of his face just for good measure, the ‘Oh, crap!’ reflex making him flinch and raise his right hand to shield his face. Closing the distance again, Yekaterina barged into him with her shoulder, grabbing his right wrist with her left hand to keep control of him and in his state he went down on his back without much resistance. A pair of wet crunches signaled that her heel had found its target, his throat between his adam's apple and clavicle bones now pushed in a few centimeters. He was still alive, but unable to breathe, much less stand up and fight, and his clock was ticking down to zero fast.

Seeing the immediate coast around her was clear, she picked up her magazine and stood-by to assist anyone who looked like they may need it and keep lookout in case more showed up.

Sean moved as swiftly as Hayden did, clattering into the man he stumbled past, while he took out the girl. His method wasn't as relentless, but quick, and just brutal. He had been taught the basics of hand to hand, and particularly, when armed with a weapon like a machete, how to use it efficiently. There wasn't much aside from a single swing to the neck that did it, as Sean pushed into the man, pulling back and feeling the blood begin to pour and the guy rasp, throwing his ever-lifeless arms into Sean, grasping away and dropping down against the dirty wall.

In the interim, Beth had followed onto the next man, and brought her own knife into place, aiming for his neck, yet finding he was a little taller than expected, and she hadn't pulled it off as cleanly. With a slash she caught his side, but he turned, raising his rifle as she brought pressure in on it and pulled downward, using his momentum to bring them both down and time for her to reposition, feeling him throw a punch straight into her that hit like a train. It had been a while she had done this, and he was about to yell, well, not before she stabbed him straight through the top of his thorax on the turn, hand against jaw, pushing hard upwards as he felt him go limp, the heartbeat of arhythmic pumping enough to let her know he was gone. It was a sticky one, quite literally, as she looked across at all four, a little in awe.
"Christ." She didn't really have many words to add, as Sean looted his man down, pulling a suitable Bakelite mag off the skinny he had gotten, and checking the round, noticing it was 5.45- spot on for the Russian in the team.

"Yekatarina, one more mag for you, heads up." Sean called out, sliding it across the floor so as to avoid noise, as Beth cast the crappy and rust-strewn AKM the man she'd killed aside, standing up and adjusting her hat, slinging her FNC back into hand.

"We all good?" Beth asked, looking across at Hayden, a little dismayed by the state of what had happened. He was an animal, and what he had done was nothing short of savage. If she didn't know better, he definitely didn't enjoy this, he just didn't have any control. Sean did seem to be moving on better than everyone here though, and she wasn't sure if that was worse, or better.

"Not bad. Let's just get moving." Sean added, spitting out past the dead man and over the two other bodies, getting an eye on the others, aware that while it was never an ideal situation, they had to make the most of it.

The alleyways and corridors snaked on, and within time, they were getting closer, close enough that Sean could start recognising where they'd been dragged into. Past the markets, there it was, the fences and walls of the compound Melani was holed up in. Crouching down behind a balcony wall, he looked back across to the Canuck, taking it in.

"Alright Hayden, your play here. We'll need to clamber it, looks like there's a few points but it's a risk. So get inside, pop the bitch, get out. Looting might be half an idea, but I don't want to stay in that shitshow any longer than needed." Sean said, looking down on the setup down below- the edge of the market and the beginning of the compound. Once they were in, they were in for a fight- and against what, they'd just have to fight through. It couldn't have been more than a couple dozen, and even then, they likely weren't well trained if they were non-SAMC. If they were however, then the odds were going to be tough. Still, shit or bust it was today, and they were gonna give it all they had.

Huff....huff...huff..huff...

Slowly reality returned. And he felt it. The feel of cooling blood, a cooling body under him. He'd lost his head again he realized. He looked down at the mangled form of what used to be a woman under him. He'd instinctual braced the woman under him with a knee. With a shift a pull and a twist his tomahawk came free with a wet around.

He took stock carefully the team is alive. The skinnies dead or dying. They could call that a success. It's only after he sees the others begin looting that he begins to rifle his kills pockets. Chewing gum a condom, a medal of some kind. He riches down and grabs the woman's weapon from across her back. He gives a whistle. "I'm glad we didn't try and make this a firefight and we caught them by surprise." He lifted an Ithaca 37 up, he palmed back the slide seeing a round loaded and a thumb at the chamber slide showed rounds in the barrel. A quick look again through pockets and a few loose shells are gathered, "Anyone want something secondary? I dont have enough stamina to carry this thing too." Its a find alright. He keeps a hold of it for now but the offer is open.

They moved on Hayden staying in a second position for now pistol unstowed held to his side, and finally out, and the compound wall ahead of them. Hayden looked around and along. He knew where this was going. "Alright get my happy ass up there I'll boost you all up and over. Then we gotta do this clean. If we're good about this we won't have to worry about those outside the compound. He braced and then took a few running steps put his foot in Sean's waiting hands and with Sean's help he's airborne briefly. A hand reaching up and catching the walls top ledge. He scrambles abit getting purchase and somehow not kicking Sean in the head. Soon though he's up peering around then bracing and reaching down, "Next?"

It's about 10 minutes maybe 12 to get everyone up and over. And then Hayden drops beside the others. His voice pitched down, "Alright. Let's kill us a psycho batch." He lead the way unshipping his Bren making ready for combat. Luck would have it they could side flank the court yard that Melanie had them in before. No sign of the Corp report that had lead them in. But there stands the savage bitch herself. Growling out orders as she watched a old CRT television showing the carnage outside. She waved that rebar spear of hers around like a baton.

Hayden looked around then nudged Beth pointing up on the far side of the courtyard above Mel, a sentry with a AK, "Pop that one at the start." He hisses then motions military sign on display, "Spread out multiple angles. We open when Beth here drops that watcher. Pick your targets then we all rock and roll on Melanie. I'll provide mass fire to distract them." He looked at them, "Sorry I just feel that the best way to do this...and suggestions?"

Up-close fighting was always messy. Lot more room to fuck something up, which is why she was surprised they completely steamrolled the patrol, four for four successes. Training and nutrition work wonders. The biggest of the bunch looked a few pounds lighter than the smallest one of the team. Looking over the pockets of the poor bastard she killed, he was indeed a poor bastard. Nothing of note to his name except a Vz. 61 and a single 20 round magazine. Probably the FNG, at least it was light to carry. Catching the AK magazine Sean passed her with a “Thanks.” She checked the ammo inside it, finding the cheapest steel-cased Tula one could get. At least it was clean. What was it she heard one of the Tolyatti base’s armorers say? ‘If it can’t run the steel, it doesn’t deserve the brass.’ or some such nonsense?

Seeing the shotgun Hayden recovered, an idea popped into her mind. “Guess she liked to keep something handy for close encounters.” She grinned, borrowing it and ejecting one shell to see what it was loaded with. “00 buck. They’re no breaching rounds, but they’ll work in a pinch. Unless someone wants it more.” She reloaded the shell and held it out for any takers to grab, else she’d keep it for the time being, shoving the loose shells into one of the grenade pouches and hanging the Škorpion in the flare strap by its stock before stacking up behind Hayden again.

She was surprised by the lack of resistance from the locals. Every corner, she expected another patrol, or some alarm as the patrol they’d killed failed to check in or someone found the bodies, but nothing ever came of it and they pretty much walked into Melani’s compound unchallenged. Looked like their initial guess was accurate, and Melani had most of her goons out fighting with little in the way of rear-echelon security. Was she low on manpower, or was she that sure that nobody would or could try to go for her directly? Pride goeth before the fall?

And there was the queen bitch, in the flesh, looking like an idiot with that piece of rebar in her hand. Not that Yekaterina wanted that thing anywhere near her. “Sounds workable, but shouldn’t we prepare a way out beforehand? I’d hate to get lost in here or climb the wall with vengeful skinnies on our backs.” Yekaterina suggested a slight modification of an otherwise simple plan, “Otherwise I’m good to go, waiting on you Beth.” She shouldered her rifle, posted up behind a corner and took aim at two thugs sharing a cigarette a little bit off to the left side, the brick-and-mortar wall providing a good amount of reassuring bulk between her and them.

Giving Hayden a lift, he threw the man up, taking his hand once he was up and following him up before reaching down and pulling up Beth, then Yekatarina as they all clambered into the compound.

Beth dropped down, shouldering her weapon in the darkness of the compound, the place having a foul smell that filled the air, that of bodies, rotting and general death. A nasty smell, given Beth had been around it a lot, but here, it felt even more foul, lacking the traditional smell of disinfectant that normally paired it when she worked as a combat paramedic, let alone this.
"I'm thinking they might be scared enough of her they won't shoot her if we took her hostage. If it comes to that. We'll still slit her throat anyway. All things considered, probably a better way to go..." Beth remarked back to Yekatarina, as she got into position.
"Or find us an exit, Beth. Some way out. Explosives, a gate, something to get us out quickly." Sean replied, Beth taking his suggestion half seriously as she was aware that as much as taking a hostage could work, the risks were significant too. No doubt Hayden would see red again, and she almost had to count on it. Whatever was inside him, he had some screw loose, that was for sure.

"Understood, Hayden. Give them hell once he's out." The Welshwoman only retorted, picking up her aim, and steadying her shot, put him right in centre in the iron sight. With a gentle pull of the FNC's trigger, the 5.56 round flew through his skull, the distance minimal and the shot easy to make, and the man and his SKS fell like a sack of potatoes from his position, the shitshow now about to fully begin.

On that one, Sean paced himself in, moving quick on feet and turning the corner, a couple of thugs popping out into the yard. The FAL was a weapon with usually significant recoil but in this case he could keep well on target, pinning the first man with a headshot, and the other with two more rounds, quickly tapping them with his superior marksmanship compared to their thuggish attachment to their AKMs, the 7.62mm round a brutalist, horrid one. This wasn't a round designed to maim and stay controlled, like an intermediate round, it didn't give a shit much for body armour either because it hit like a train, as he ran by them, snagging a couple of grenades off their belt, a pair of very rusty and shitty looking F1 Frags, but a nice contingency, just in case.

Sean had nothing to add to that statement of fire as he kept moving on the right, Beth moving on her sector on the centre, a few more skinnies running out and laying out sporadic, spread fire, as she skidded into cover, letting them dump their mags inaccurately, before pinning a shot out, dropping one before getting back in, swinging another mag into place. She leaned back and gently tapped the other guy in the stomach, tapping once again in the chest, before moving out, two more skinnies quickly recieving the rest of the mag as she dumped it into them, slow and methodical against their fast and reactive. Her heart rate was pounding, pulsating, as she knew what was coming was going to be terrifying.

"Hayden, Sean, she's all yours, do what you have to do to the bitch!" Beth yelled out, keeping her area covered, Sean moving by her side and towards the door with Melani behind it with her covering the flank, the woman they were hunting no longer visible by her CRT screen- though Sean couldn't tell if she had moved inside. Standing by the door, Sean looked across to him, and gave him a look that more or less said all the Ulsterman felt. They weren't leaving the room without her dead, because it had been long enough a day, and night now to turn back.
"We're not breaching for hostages, Hayden, everyone in that room's gonna fuckin' die. Kick that door, frag goes in, we go in and anyone left standing gets however much lead you have in that Bren." Sean didn't look unhinged, but the Irish drawl and his attitude was now gone now the gunfire had began, and he was just out of fucks to give now. Whatever soldiering morality had been inside of him was gone, it had been perhaps for longer than he'd let on, and he was more than willing to trade his soul, what was left for it, for a ticket out of this shithole. Sleep, a ride out of town, some trace of the next job to find the bastard that had meant they were their, freedom, all of it, right now, he was gonna take that if it meant they had to do something awful. Not what he signed up to, but neither was leaving this place on a crucifix.

Hayden nodded and moved slightly to the side just in case the others decided to rush or enter the kill zone. And they indeed did. He mounted his Bren on a overturned desk. And did what an LMG is used best for. Reaching out with a hand he made some quick C-form measurements, thumb and pinky held out to the side of a closed fist keeping some distance between his teammates and...the rolling chatter of his Bren as he starts to fire.

Credit where it's due, the rifles the others used ate great weapons, tough and they hit hard. But there's a bit of a difference between them and a heavier gun like the Bren. The long barreled monster was designed to shoot down aircraft and as a squad weapon. And it shows. As the rounds he puts out cause a few of the until then hidden skinnies to dodge back into their hiding spots. Atleast after the first few were riddles with several holes. The gun doesn't hit as fast as newer guns, but it hits hard. Throwing one poor bastard through a pane of scrap glass. Another having his arm removed when two round punch through his shoulder. He fell screaming in horror.

And then the action had moved far enough up, he called l, "Displacing..." He sounds put together, like the gunfire this time has kept his mind stable...what's the trigger? What makes him see red black and white, and what makes him seem stable, an enigma within a puzzle. Hayden almost deadlines the Bren up pulling the pry 30 round clip off the top, sliding it into the empty pocket to be reloaded later. And with a huff one of those 100 round pans is removed off his harness, slapped u0 top the gun, fitted with a thump of his fist and the gun full charged just as he riches the wall with Sean, he peers at the Irishman the battle high clear in everyone. A look for Kat to make sure she's okay, a look Beth then as he steps around, knee chambered he hears a cry of rage the click of something one handed maybe? He dodged luck pure luck ad some bug slug punched through the door and would have cored Hayden right in the gut. He growled, hollering, "Hey bitch, suck my dick!" Then back kicked the door open enough for Sean to get the grenade in, "Fire in the hole!" A curse from with, the door shooting off its hinges outwards. And just like Sean said, Hayden turns the side of the door braces the big gun on his hip, sling tight, and the hose begins.

100 rounds. One hundred. Brass flying, rounds hissing. Sparks from within the room even as the black smoke from the grenade still hasn't cleared.

One hundred rounds. The muzzle of the Bren sweeping an arc back and forth hosing the inside of the room.

And it's only when the gun clicks empty that it finally ends, Hayden standing there panting, now his eyes are glassy, now he's not all there, but this is different this isn't the blind blood rage from the earlier fights, this is a gun high.

Hayden puffs and releases his white knuckled grip on the Bren carefully and goes for his pistol, "Let's clear it..." He gulps then reaches up to pat the top of his head, "On me." The classic sign. And they are headed into the room.

And one by one the bodies come in to view. Skinnies hit by the grenade. And quickly those who had been hit by that hosing from the LMG. Hayden steps left from the door, pistol held ahead, reaching one of the far corners turning to watch as others come I to the room, "Clear..." And his eyes go right to the queen bitch her self. Some how unlike the others in the room she's barely clinging to life.

For how long who knows. She sits and croak and coughs, a mangled revolver in one hand her rebar stake held in a blooded hand on the other side. Sheer spite and evil keeping her breathing. She lays against what looks like a safe glaring at the team. Yes that is a very angry woman.

The sheer amount of firepower that Hayden unleashed in the room after the grenade went off, the spray and pray emptying anyone left standing in the room, turning the entire place into claret and dust,

"Cover our six, Beth!" Sean yelled out, moving in, the FAL pivoted at point-shooting position, bodies all over the place. Walking over them, Sean's ears were ringing, the FAL's barrel hot yet still loaded with a full mag for this breach. Nobody would have survived that grenade, yet Melani was still there, limping on the floor, blood pouring and sheer violence fuelling her.

As Melani raised her hand, Sean was faster, more driven as he threw his leg straight at her lower arm, the rebar that followed hurting as it clattered into his leg, but enough to give Sean time to point the FAL directly at her top half and pull the trigger, spraying a handful of rounds at point blank, and immediately doing the deed. It wasn't like some Hollywood movie, where he got to say something, and so did she. It was just a desperate situation ending as frantically as it would, Sean looking at the growing pale on Melani's face, her violent, fucked up, psychosis put to an end.

One of probably dozens in this suburb alone, the Ulsterman thought to himself. And they were probably joining her.

"Jesus. Even in fucking death, you're a cunt." Sean spat, looking around the room, shaking his head. With a pull of his knife, Sean looked at the dead corpse of the woman, just thinking only that it wasn't a fitting way. Dying quickly, rather than slow- he was nobody to judge but even so, knowing the shit that went on in her little kingdom made even his stomach turn. So in some ways, it was poetic what was coming next. He was disgusted by what he was going to do, but it had to be done, given the situation. They'd struggle to get back to the turf they were contracted for, but if they could at least get there and leave what was proof of Melani with one of Edgar's grunts, it would be enough.

With a slight cut, Sean pulled her hand up that was carrying the shiv-like machete and with a wack of his own machete slammed through, taking another hack at it and eventually, breaking the bone to bits, clattering the wrist out and pulling the hand out. A macabre war trophy, and one he threw into the pocket of his backpack, shiv in cut offhand. He looked to Hayden and Yekatarina, knowing he looked as fucked up as could be- sinking to the low level here no doubt, but aware that it was likely their only route to proving the target was down so Edgar's goons could at least buy the story.

"I don't think we can PID this the usual way, you know what I mean?" Sean commented, shrugging his shoulders indifferently, as Beth kept watch on the door, the fucked up situation and the now growing smell of dirt, bodies and blood making this place no better to be in.

Sean looked to Hayden as he stood up, taking a deep breath, his leg hurting from where he'd been swung at, the bar not making any damage but leaving a nasty bruise, masked still by adrenaline. He looked around, noticing the scene they were in, and in fact, not too distant from the part of the facility where she had her throne. And her cages, no less.
"Shit. We need to go, that safe is too nice, but we can't stay. Beth, we all good?"
"No more yet, but clock's ticking."

At the bark of Bethan’s rifle, Hayden let the BREN loose both clearing out the area a bit and drawing the remaining attention to himself. She left cover and advanced along the left wall to match Sean’s pace, catching the skinnies in a crossfire from three sides. It was a fucked situation for the locals. One moment everything’s calm, the next it’s pandemonium. Take cover from the machine gun and you’ll get shot from either the left or right. Take cover from one side and you’ll expose yourself to the other as well as the hellish, unrelenting machine gun barrage. It was just as well it came out like that. ‘If you’ve gotten yourself into a fair fight, you’ve fucked up along the way.’ after all. She kept moving deeper into the compound, two to three rounds per target, mindful not to overextend and periodically checking above them to make sure no one else tried to be smart like the last balcony guy. And yet still, she almost got got, evidenced by a whizzing noise and a spray of plaster and brick dust from above her head. Looking toward where she guessed it came from, she was greeted by the sight of a skinny collapsing to the ground with 5,56 in his gut and chest. Yekaterina didn’t bother looting the bodies just yet. There’d be time for that later.

Before long the courtyard was clear with the exception of a few skinnies running their clocks out on the floor. Seeing that Sean and Hayden were handling the breach and noting the grenades Sean had salvaged, she left it in their hands and instead went around the room, finishing off, dead checking and looting the defenders before reloading and joining Bethan in keeping security. “Appreciate the help.” She gestured to the near-miss skinny. The locals were sadly behind the times, running 7,62x39 in their AKMs and SKSs, though one of them did have a semi-preserved, if rusted, 6H4 bayonet and holster.

The clearing method was definitely unorthodox. She’d seen things. She’d seen thermobaric weapons deployed against open-ground and urban targets, she’d seen an Su-25 strafing infantry. She’d even seen a BTR-70 and an RPG-7’s PG-7VL antitank grenades used against a target that’s barricaded himself in a brick house. She’d never seen anything like that until then. Like spraying a fire extinguisher into the burning engine bay of a car. “Friendly coming in!” She called out before she rejoined her compatriots, not feeling like getting shot by a strung-out Hayden, just in time for the finishing shots. “Ear pro. Add ear pro to the shopping list, fuuuck.” She groaned, trying in vain to rub the ringing out of her ears. The inside of the panic room looked about as she expected it to. After a grenade and a hosing like that, it could hardly have been worse. And then fucking Sean… made it worse. “Oh, come ooon.” The Russian groaned as she watched Sean’s chosen machete retrieval method, “You couldn’t have just taken it, maybe broken her fingers?” She just had to ask, not seeing any reason for that. Even if they’d left her there for a few hours, she doubted she had enough intact muscles in her limbs for rigor mortis to be a concern. “Anyway, we should make tracks. With some luck it’ll be some time before anyone notices anything’s wrong.” She set herself up for departure. “You think we should check for captives? If not more meat for Edgar, at least a distraction to help us get out of here?” She offered a suggestion, also realizing where they were. Maybe if a bunch of angry locals were set free to take revenge on their captors, a small and careful team might slip away.

The smoke cleared and the Canadian with the LMG slowly came back around. He jumped a bit to hear someone call, "Friendly coming in." He might be abit strung out. A fight might get anyone at that point. Hayden watched distantly as things were gathered. And it's only as the discussion about potential prisoners being released that he finally starts to move again.

Slowly at any rate.

He pulls the spent drum mag free from the top of the weapon. Hanging it from his harness carefully, then groping for a new mag, managing to find one of the 30 rounders before managing to get it on the gun. He watches then starts to move slowly. Out towards the courtyard. Shaking himself once outside, looking up into the afternoon sun. He took a deep breath then started to turn, looking about getting some bearing in the scrapyard of the courtyard. Cages, real and makeshift. Some of them with piles of...well what looks like rotting flesh. Could be animal, could be human. Red pools of something dry and sticky. Hair and cloth sitting within them. Hayden makes his way towards the raised dais and the throne of scrap the woman had been sitting upon when they first met her. He stomps up there and puts a hand on the throne. Standing up there for a time just staring at it. And then a crash as he hurls the great thing down the stairs to the ground, one of the arm rests bending wickedly. He growls, "We are not the same, you sick twisted bitch!" He snarls and spits down on the throne, "You go to hell. I'll go to fucking purgatory. And while you burn, I'll rest in the cold neutral dark. Burn and waste away you disgusting hag!"

He's beginning to make his way towards the stairs, when he feels something catch his pants leg. He turns LMG at his hip, and looks down.

The shout he gives out, "Sean! Bethan! Kat!" When the other three join him, Hayden is throwing boards and pieces of scrap metal aside, buried under the pile are three large cages, within, about seventeen tired, but angry looking locals in one cage, and in the other two split between them are nine very abused tourists. Ranging from Brits, Canucks, Frenchmen, Scots and a pair of Germans. Looking tired, abused, beaten and very worse for their situation. One of the Canucks was the one to grab his pant leg, and it's that one a young man who's half hugging Hayden through the bars, babbling about the devil woman, "I got ya kid, I got ya. We're gonna get you guys out." He calls again, "Sean! Bethan, Kat! Come on, help me here!" He starts to hammer on the lock to one of the tourists cages with the hammer head end of his tomahawk. he looks over at his teammates, "We gotta get them out. They may not be an army but I'm not leaving them here!"

Meanwhile as the team work, several large SUVs roll into the area. Numbering twelve, each can sit atleast eight. Painted military black with tinted windows all around, looking to be quite well decked out. Maybe even armored. A few of them with a hatch atop them perhaps for someone to pop out and fire from within. It's all quite tidy as a para-military operation goes really. No markings on the SUVs give away who might be within. And through the fighting and the blockades they roll, in a few examples crashing through blockades like they're piles of paper clips rather then solids things found on the streets.

Still though Hayden works and finally with a crack he gets the first cage out, swinging the door open and starting to help the captives inside out of it, "Come on everybody come on, out quick and get out of the way."

“...you’re fucking weird, has anyone ever told you that?” Yekaterina shook her head at Hayden’s outburst as she repacked her magazines, combining two of her half-empty ones into a single full one, starting to wonder why someone sent him here or how well he could hide his state of mind in the outside world.

“Make a hole. Get a hammer, or a heavy wrench.” Kat commanded. Pulling the halligan out of her bag. Chain, steel bars, padlock. Old one, heavy. Not much slack on the chain, perfect. “Scratch the hammer, actually.” She wedged the shackle of the lock holding one of the tourist cages shut between the forks of the halligan tool and started twisting it. The first quarter turn pulled the remaining slack taught, another half turn started deforming the chain and then the weakest link snapped, the padlock flying off. With Hayden having already opened the other cage with non-Africans, she stowed the hallie away again, ignoring the locals. “We don’t have the manpower or equipment to get them out of here, not in that state, and they’re not all gonna fit into the Hilux either. Let’s grab the richest-looking one and make for scarper city.” She didn’t try to keep her voice down, unbothered by what the rescuees thought of it. She wasn’t particularly happy about leaving them to their fate, but they weren’t gonna help anyone if they couldn’t get out themselves. And dragging a dozen of injured and half-starved people, likely journalists and rich people who disappeared on a safari or when ‘taking a year off to discover themselves’ would be like tying yourself to an anchor before attempting a swimming record.

“Unless any of these guys knows something that would help us.” But what were the odds either of them even knew anything about the Hyena? A hyena, maybe. “Who are you guys, how long have you been here?” She addressed the captive that looked the least out of it, trying to muster up the cleanest English she could and then repeating it in German to make it easier on him or anyone else who wanted to answer her.

"Noted, but from what I remember, these savages don't really take a PID the usual way." Sean called back to Yekatarina, the Russian's disgust met with only a wall of of apathy, as he looked across to Bethan, following Hayden in. Not that Hayden was in a good way. Even Sean had to admit, he felt like he was in his own deep end, but the Canuck was in deeper.

The noise of the hostages yelped out as they headed through the insides, and Beth was pulled to it, just the same as their half-appoitned leader. She ran over, the ex-Marine holding her worry the same as Hayden, for a moment seeing the skeleton-thin like hostages in cages, in shock at the sight of it but trying not to let it take hold of her. All she could do was do something, not talk in shock, whatever Kat, Sean, or Hayden had to say.

They looked awful- starved and certainly held as a pawn against whoever their respective governments were. This was an awful place to be stranded, and no doubt, she could feel the pain they felt, given their situation earlier. Doing something felt natural, to Beth at least, as Sean looked on at the scene, watching as she took a prybar from the floor to try and pull off a lock, yelling as she pulled the chain out, opening it and freeing another cage.

The scene escalated quickly, as the sound of SUVs crowded into the compound- whatever hell they'd started, the reinforcements had arrived.

"Fuck. We have company. Hayden, Kat, we need to go, now! Put the hostages between us and them, fuck this!" Sean yelled, his voice barking, not interested in the captives and certainly not interested in staying here. They had to make a move, and Sean was ready by the door, steady to make a move quickly whilst keeping an eye out on the approaching cars, far enough for them to get going.
"If we have the time, chances are, they're more likely dead with us....shite." Beth muttered out loud, looking at Kat, trusting her call on this one, yet fully aware of the circumstances.
"No time for that, these goons look geared, it's fire or run, make your call!" Sean yelled back at all of them, raising his FAL, steadying it at the vehicles coming in, ready to cover fire and make sure the team could bolt, or at the least, steady himself to do so if they fucked around anymore. He wasn't dying here over some poor hostages. They got their job done. They needed to go, and now.

The man who Katerina spoke too looks at her with slightly unbalanced eyes, then whispers in French, "English? You're English? Where am I? Tourism Agency said I was going to Tamassa Resort. Ahhh...wait you say Hyena? Like the Dog things?" The person groans and rubs his head, then in broken English, "Was in a tour group...supposed to stop through here in Matanbai before heading East." The person sighs, "I went out with a couple of the other tour goers before our next flight, I...woke up here...I think 5 days ago...maybe?" The person groans then looks around as the sound of engines roar outside.

Hayden for his part looks over at the doors that lead into the courtyard courtroom. He narrows his eyes, "Too many ways in. We need a way out." He looks around then up at the courtyard rooftops, "Can we find a way out up there!?" He asks.

Another of the prisoners. In russian says, "What's going on? Is that a rescue party? Aren't you the rescue party?"

From outside the four mercs hear a faintly familiar voice, "Melani!? Hey big gal? Babe? Sugar baby? We gotta get out of here. The fighting is getting hot. CEO Baetaza is saying to grab anything and anyone we can and get out of the city!"

Hayden looks at the set of big doors Sean is covering, "Is that fucking Viktor?" He says, kind of recognizing the tone of the voice. He looks at his Bren then at the former hostages, then makes a snap descision atleast for himself. He turns and smacks his pistol into the hands of one of them that looks a little more with it, "You guys get out of here if you can, don't fight those guys coming in." He turns then and makes a beeline for one of the doors at the back of the courtyard, "Sean, Yak, Beth, here!" He heaves his foot back and kicks the door in.

And luckily it leads into a clear hallway. He turns and looks at the rest of the team, "Beat feet come on." And he slips into the hallway, moving with a tactical quickness but not fast enough so as to leave the team behind. His Bren held like one would properly in a situation like this, oh how he wishes he had a slightly shorter gun at this point. He finds a stairs, looking up it, "Come on...let's make for the roof.

In the courtyard the prisoners are still milling, looking lost. Not quite understanding that they just got lost. The guy with the pistol looks at it in confusion. And it's then that Viktor, with a tactical vest on his chest bursts into the courtyard shouting, "Melani where are you sugar ti...what...what are you all doing out of your cells? Where's Melani??" As if realizing something isn't right the men with Viktor start looking around.

A shout of, "Boss!"

Followed shortly by Viktor's horrfied and mournful shout of, "MELANI!"

“Nope. Not English. And not a rescue party either.” She shook her head, switching to Russian to answer the Russian man before going back to English, “We’re a hit team. You guys are on your own, good luck.” She was ready to keep them at bay with force if they got agitated, but most seemed too confused and exhausted to do much besides stand there and try to make sense of a nonsensical situation. Poor fucking bastards.

With enemy reinforcements, likely closer to their level of competence, approaching, she didn’t need to be told to leave. “Never a fucking trip mine to leave behind when you need one.” She grumbled as they left the courtyard to the sound of Viktor’s voice. Not their mission. As far as they knew, Viktor thought the four died carrying out Melani’s orders. As long as the westerners don’t get captured and squeal, Viktor might never be aware of their involvement.

…Therefore he’d know in roughly 12 hours, because the westerners would get captured and they would squeal quickly.

Not ideal, but in order for it to matter they first had to make their way out. Following Hayden away from the front of the compound, they ran into the first hurdle about two corners in - a skinny on his way to the main yard from a side room. Yekaterina didn’t know if they were the most unpleasant surprise of his life, but they were definitely the last. Two rounds to the chest and one to the head - always deadcheck - made sure of that. “I’m gonna assume they heard that!” She yelled at her teammates, yelling to hear herself over the ringing in her ears. Catching up, she tapped the Canuck on the shoulder. “Hayden, hang back. I’ll take the front.” She moved ahead of him, his weapon not ideal to be in a building, nevermind at the front of the stack on a stairwell.

The careful ascent slowed them down somewhat, but roof access was now in sight. Locked, obviously. “Go as soon as it’s open.” She struck the door with the halligan high, mid and low on the handle side to check for drop bars before pushing against it with her boot and driving the duckbill in the resulting gap. A few seconds of labor later the door jamb failed and she flattened up against the wall after pushing the door open to give the others more room to pass. “Move!” She used the time to stow her tool and grab her rifle again, taking up the rear.

Well, this wasn't good.

Bethan and Sean knew that pretty fast when they heard Victor's voice boom, a sorrowful, vengeful shout and one that was hauntingly bouncing off the walls. Oh, they knew what they'd done, but hadn't expected the response to be so immediate. So now was a good time to run. Chances were, Victor was in a private deal with her outside of the organisation's known ranks, but hell, it was still going to mean that every hit team that answered to him had eyes on exactly who it was. No doubt Victor had put that together. So the two had no intent of staying around.

Bethan followed on Katarina, watching as she tapped the man in front, and taking the tool, smashed the door open. As the closest pointman on her, the Welshwoman moved through the thin gap, and moving onto the rooftop, turned the corner to find a couple more guards in surprise, turning around and in shock.
"Hey, you...." The man's shout died as Bethan raised her FNC and popped two rounds into his chest, another round following into the head of the man next to him, clattering one off the roof into a metal lean-to, as Bethan watched Sean follow her lead, and the others then come through. They had no time to lose. They would be out range by using the rooftop to the next, but they had to hustle. And that was all they did, as Bethan looked over her shoulder to check they were there, before breaking into a sprint.

From roof to roof, Bethan hustled over the varying heights, clambering the clay and offering a hand over, Sean grabbing it and moving with her, as he ran in front and vaulted another wall, hearing the sound of mercs flooding the compound behind.
"We need to keep on moving. Truck's a couple blocks over, we need to get to it, and get the hell out." Sean called back to the team, Bethan nodding as she lept the small meter-sized gap between two of them, Sean following suit and moving on, the two Brits aware that they weren't exactly a low profile on this rooftop across the market, but it would have to do. Anyone inbetween them and here was dead, so at the least, they had that in their court.

Well, until another squad came in down on the alley below where they come from, Sean seeing it first and pinning down fire as Bethan slid behind an old, outdated AC unit, Sean tapping a few rounds to make them duck.
"Contacts, in the street!" Sean called, as Bethan popped her head up, and with a couple of taps, dropped one of them, Sean hearing bullets wizz back from a few AKs, before he repeeked and using his FAL's semi-automatic fire, clattered two rounds into the head of another skinny, before repositioning. Bethan covered and dumped the magazine into it, giving Katarina and Hayden the chance to suppress, cover and eliminate the enemy, as well as get moving.
"We need off this rooftop and into the alley, we need to fucking go!" Sean yelled back, as he peeked again, and with a subtle check of the light in the dark, picked one more out and put a couple of rounds into him, before coming back into cover.