Left staircase, right corridor, directly ahead leads to the equipment room.
The hall is empty, a kerosene lamp rolls on the ground, flames licking the wooden floor.
"Clear the first floor!" Blake signals.
Derek and Quinn start searching the rooms on both sides.
Blake quickly checks the bodies.
The two middle-aged men lying on the ground wear cheap synthetic robes, and the AK rifles in their hands aren't even loaded.
Something's not right.
They're not professional guards.
Definitely not the ones who ambushed us.
At least not with the same group.
"These are civilians…" He whispers: "Not soldiers."
Reno's voice comes through the headset: "Team A, we encountered strong resistance at the back door, requesting supp—"
The voice cuts off, replaced by intense gunfire and a muffled grunt.
"Reno!" Blake shouts.
No response.
Only continuous gunfire.
"All members of Team B, rally in the hall!" He orders: "We're surrounded, we must establish a defense!"
