Rottweiler

Descending On Location

The plan had been simple until it failed. Antonio and his unit, along with Matt, who refused to be too far away when Kelly was in danger, were waiting just beyond the boundary of Derek Keyes' security's vision. Kelly, Steve, and Buck were going to move in on the guards and give Gunnar a clear entry to get in and get to Jay. Only, as soon as Gunnar had cleared the main doors of the building, the safety measures had slammed into place. A metal door replacing each of the exits and bars blocking every window.

He cursed lowly, picking up his radio. "Going silent." He whispered into it, turning it off and sliding it into a vase which stood to the left of the door.

He got low, removing his bulletproof vest and tucking it behind one of the sweeping velvet curtains, which covered the window to the right of the door. He needed his movement to be as free as possible, they'd calculated the possibility of seven or eight hostiles within the building and without knowing the state Jay would be in, he had to assume he'd be taking them all on his own.

Gunnar inhaled deeply through his nose. He counted to three, and he let go of the rest of his restraint. He wouldn't need it here. Here, he would be fighting for his life and Jay's. And, perhaps he didn't mind dying, but he did mind Jay dying.

He looked around the entryway. A large room, mostly marble with a double staircase which climbed to the same landing with one door on it but on separate sides of the room. He stayed low, moving towards the left staircase as he hovered his hand over the SIG SAUER P320 in the holster that was strapped to his right thigh. His Luger was strapped to his left thigh, and he had a handful of knives scattered about his person. He didn't often use weapons for this type of mission, Gunnar preferred a more old-fashioned justice. Using his hands, feet, and teeth on people who had no chance of hearing or seeing him coming, but it was important that he had weapons on the very real possibility that there were more than one attacker at once.

His worn boots didn't make a sound on the marble staircase as he ran up it towards the noise of heavy footsteps on the second storey.

Gunnar paused, positioning himself so that he'd be behind the door when it opened, listening to the slightly off-kilter tempo of the steps in the hallway beyond the door. Two people, looking at the security measures this building possessed they were bound to have guns and big ones at that. He had to be smart about this.

His hand altered position, dipping into the front pocket of his jeans where he'd placed his trusty old Ontario MK 3 Navy Knife. He pulled it out and passed it over to his right hand, testing the weight against his damaged knuckles and broken fingers and finding himself slightly uncomfortable but not too bad, he curled his hand around the grip, thumb pressed to the blunt side of the blade for additional stability.

He listened, timing the pacing until he had a fairly solid idea of how his timings had to work. Then he stepped across the doorway with one careful step, counted to three, and quietly opened the door.

As expected, there were two guards, just past it, each armed with an assault rifle but dressed like regular drug dealers from any old street corner. Gunnar stepped forward on his left foot and leaned into his knife as he drove it through the back of one of the guards' necks. The other guard, who had been walking on the left, turned quickly when he noticed his partner was no longer beside him. Gunnar pulled his knife out of the dead man's neck and threw it at the living one who was preparing to shoot him.

The guard dodged, Gunnar cursing loudly as he let loose a barrage of bullets, which caused him to have to jump back through the door for cover.

"God fucking damn it!" He hissed, feeling the flesh of his left shoulder give way to a rogue bullet. This was a bad situation, and the bad situation was quickly getting worse. Gunnar was alone. He had both previous and new injuries, and he only had two handguns and a handful of knives to get him through against an assault rifle. Scratch that, because of his need for a sudden exit, Gunnar had left the dead guards assault rifle on his corpse, and his own favourite knife was somewhere in that hallway too. So it was Gunnar vs. Gunnar's trusty knife and two assault rifles. He was fucked.