It was a gamble, but it seems to be paying off. A squad of soldiers yell and attempt to breach my position I drop them all with a single shot each. My reflexes and actions are no longer fully my own, but well it is the only thing keeping me alive right now. I try not to think about what this will mean for my future, there is only now and surviving the night. I step over the soldier's bodies and move towards the door. There will be more and only a matter of time before they discover what happened to their comrades. I stick my head around the corner and my hands follow, unbidden, killing another soldier before I was sure what I had ever seen, then the other three, in quick succession. I have control again, time to reload, I fumble my gun skills rusty, but luckily not my aim.

I find the body of my workmate and flip it over, fuck it's Andre. I go to check for a pulse, but I am moving again, going for cover, I get there just in time before the flash grenade detonates and the sounds of soldiers yelling fill the corridor in which I was previously standing. Pop pop pop, another squad down. How many people did they send to take the facility? How long before they give up and just bomb the place? What will I do if they do? no stay focused on the now, deep breaths, we will cross that bridge when we come to it. I amble down the stairs not quite sure how to do this action hero stuff, I was trained a little when I took the job but it's not core to the job if you know what I mean.

The main office space is wrecked they were definitely looking for something, but they'd have been better off heading straight to the server room, these research computers are linked to the shared database. I hear a noise, but no reactions this time, I follow it somehow still in control. A chair moves and a figure crawls out, bloodied. "John!" I said out loud before thinking better of it, there are likely still soldiers here. I bend down to help him. " John, it worked" I whisper. He looks at me, clearly struggling to breathe, collapsed lung, a bullet in the chest, my eye scans him quickly. Blood on his shirt. He finally recognises me, looks at my gun and similes, his life's work complete he gives up the fight. Bastards they are going to pay for this.