Through the haze, I see mercenaries pour through the front, four of them, I think.
They move fast, guns sweeping the room, and their boots stepping on the broken glass give their positions away.
Victor and I open fire at the same time.
The first mercenary jerks backward as my bullets pierce through his chest. He collapses, blood spraying across the wall behind him.
Victor drops another with a headshot. The man's helmet cracks and he crumples to the ground.
We continue firing as they shoot at us, but I can't see the others, and God knows how many are still outside.
"This damn smoke. There may be too many of them," I say. "I want you to take Elena and run!"
"Fuck that!" Victor snaps, ejecting another magazine. "I'm not leaving you behind!"
"Victor."
"No. We all leave together or not at all."
Suddenly, through the smoke, a mercenary charges us. I get one round off, but he doesn't slow and crashes into me.
His hands grip my throat and start squeezing with so much force, air is cut off from my lungs completely.
I go to bring my gun up and he brings his head down and headbutts me. The pain jolts through my nose and my eyes water.
"Motherfucker!" I yell, turning to the side. A shot comes out and the man goes limp and falls forward on me. I push him off and spin around to see Victor's gun raised.
"You're welcome," he says, and I quickly raise my gun and fire three times behind him and a man drops to the ground.
"Even."
We turn and look around. The room is chaos. Smoke and noise and bodies moving too fast. My vision narrows to targets and threats.
I have to keep her safe.
I move without thinking, running off muscle memory, training, and instinct.
A man charges from the right. I pivot and fire. His knee explodes and he screams, dropping his weapon. I step forward and finish him with a shot to the head.
Victor is on my left firing. The smoke is starting to clear now, the large hole moving wind through the area is helping to filter it all out.
Someone tries to flank us. I catch the movement in my peripheral vision and spin, firing blind. The bullet catches him in the shoulder, spinning him around. Victor finishes him.
My lungs burn now and sweat stings my eyes.
A shape moves near the door. I raise my gun and squeeze the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
Fuck.
The man raises his rifle and I throw myself sideways as he fires. The bullets tear through the space where I was standing, so close I feel the heat.
I hit the ground hard, rolling behind the wreckage of the coffee table. My hands fumble for a spare magazine I don't have.
Shit.