THE GUNMAN STOPPED at the end of the hallway and rested the rifle at his side. He took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the nicotine and exhaling once he spoke into his radio.
"I'm in the hallway by Sector B. Who's the help?"
At the other end of the corridor, another gunman looked at him. He replied through his radio.
"Right here, le con (asshole)."
The two exchanged chuckles, but then the lights in their building dimmed. It wasn't long until they flickered and completely shut off.
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"Boss said to check the breakers." The first gunman said into his radio.
"I just did." The second one replied, then sighed, "...merde (damn it)."
He clipped the radio back onto his belt and gripped his rifle, walking off into the other hallway. The first gunman looked on and shook his head.
Suddenly, a hand went over his mouth as a karambit blade went into his back. His grunts were muffled as he was immobilized and laid on the floor.
The Specter, in his tactical suit, sheathed his weapon and toggled his night vision goggles, creeping along the corridor.
In the other room, the second gunmen went over to the panel and noticed a jammer attached to it.
"I think I got something." He radioed his companion, but didn't get a response.
He tried to pry it off, but Specter appeared behind him and grabbed his arm, bending it behind his back.
Specter wrapped his own arm around the gunmen's neck and brought him to the floor. He tightened his hold and choked him, letting go of his limp body and getting back on his feet.
Y/N began to whisper into his earpiece, "I dealt with the two by Sector B. I'm moving on to C."
A mile outside of the base, Natasha Romanoff monitored the situation from within the Quinjet.
"Friday still detects several tangos ahead. Be careful." She stated.
Y/N walked along another corridor and was aware of the incoming footsteps. He quickly jumped off the side of the wall with one leg and climbed onto a pipe on the ceiling. He held on with his arms and legs as the three gunmen jogged through, unaware of his presence.
