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RP: IPG [IPG Operators] Breaking Blood Explosion Extraordinaire!

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"Stand clear." The Emry rifle's full charge light blinked on and Lenz fired twice at the door's handle, trying to shoot off the lock.
 
The door's handle was obliterated by the rifle, leaving a fairly large hole, large enough to allow one to grasp it and pull, although they would probably want to wait until the metal had cooled off a bit.
 
Lenz walked over to the door and impatiently grabbed the hole of where the handle had been with his cybernetic hand and pulled to open it. He was grateful his cybernetics didn't register pain and the limb's ability to handle heat was fairly good... so long as he didn't shove his arm into anything up to his shoulder.
 
The door would pull open, albeit with more than substantial resistance. It was quite heavy, and scraped along the floor, creating a grating scratching noise. Behind it was a long, darkened set of stairs, which became all the darker as whoever or whatever was below heard the scratching and switched the lights off.
 
Lenz whispered into his SPK-R to his squad mates, "Confirmation of a target in the concealed room." He switched on his infrared vision on his rifle's scope and stared down the darkened stairwell, trying to get an idea of what was down there before venturing forth.
 
Picking a weapon from the dead ID-SOL that had been firing at Cyrene, Nel checked the ammo and followed Lenz into the darkened hallway. She swiched to full infrared mode in her vision, checking the ground for heat-prints or other trails that their quarry might have left.
 
The infrared would be made rather ineffective by the unique construction of the room. It appeared the entire room was heated to an almost unbearable 99 degrees. Someone apparently didn't want any chances of having anyone taking a look at them from a long ways off.

As Lenz made his way down to the basement, a burst of submachine gun fire would cut towards the stairs, followed shortly by a yell of profanity and the sound of running as Smith ran with his small weapon to cover in the room beyond.
 
Lenz pulled himself tight against the wall as soon as he saw the muzzle flash and heard the submachine gun's rounds piercing the air on either side of him. Shit. Can't fucking see. He made a face as he carefully tried to walk down the stairs as quietly as he could, trying to keep his head low and his body close to the wall.

He spoke very quietly once again into his SPK-R to his squad mates, using a hand to help shield his mouth. "Found one hostile in the basement, careful, use night vision if you got it." He switched from the infrared to the night vision trying once again to locate his target... firing blind would be foolish in this scenario.
 
Nel frowned, then switched to ultraviolet vision overlayed with a sonagraphic representation of the area, using her and Lenz's footsteps as sonar pings. She didn't want to be caught off guard if someone should decide to suddenly turn on the lights...

She also attempted to follow the general direction of their target by the sound of his steps.

When the target began firing at them, she crouched and pressed herself against the wall as Lenz did, picking up firefight tactics in the process: Take cover, then find positions to return fire.
 
Athrylis turned toward the gunfire, wishing she could go and help. But, orders were orders, and she was to stay and stand guard. Though, she still readied herself in case she was ordered to go and aid in anyway.

She kept repeatedly and monotonously scanning around the general area where she was, keeping watch still. She took a brief glance at her right arm again, still not accepting all the mistakes she's done for this single mission.
 
Chandler heard the gunfire below him and immediately circled around to the back door, his 10mm Covert Ops guns flashing to his hands in mere seconds. Under his powerful foot, the door collapsed inward.
 
The target was breathing heavily. "Who the fuck are you people?" he yelled from behind his cover. He sounded spooked, and rightfully so.

As the Initiates made their way down the stairs, the heavy boots of a Britva collided with the pavement of the street, a lattice-work of cracks appearing around them. Flins strode forward slowly, whirling his Peacekeeper Cudgel between his fingers. As the Crast stealth helicopter pulled away, the other Operators fell in with their leader. They all stared towards the house.

Chandler would find himself staring into the same foyer the man who he had recently had a shoot-out with had occupied.
 
"This is the police! You are under arrest! Give yourself the fuck up or we will fucking use your god damn rocket launcher on your ass!" Lenz called authoritatively. Trying to keep his head down and find his target. "You can come with us in one piece or be smeared across the floor, I don't really give a fuck."
 
Chandler carefully sweeped the room, watching every shadow and alcove for something to jump out and try to kill him. The whole time he made his way towards the stairs where he had last seen Lenz and his team.
 
"You're fucking lying! I know it! You fucking killed all of them! You're not the police! You're goddamn Yammies! I know it!" Winston was screaming now. To add something of a period to his speech, he raised his submachine gun over the over-turned metal table he was hiding behind and fired off a burst in the general direction of the stairs.
 
Chandler tapped his SPK-R as he continued towards the stairs.

"Initiate Neis, this is Chandler. What the hell is going on, and where are you?" He whispered harshly as he made his way towards the stairs.
 
Nel moved back a little, a couple of rounds pinging off the wall and floor beside her feet. She looked over at Lenz.

"Confirm orders...are we to capture or terminate?"
 
"Fucking terminate," Lenz growled back as he dropped himself to the floor as best as he could. "Motherfucker, why the hell would Yammies want your goddamn ass?" He yelled back as he pulled himself up enough to fire back in the direction of the machine gun bursts.

He muttered into his SPK-R, "Confirmed perp. In basement, returning machine gun fire. Get a rocket launcher from upstairs."
 
Alaster listened grimly to the chatter on his SPK-R deciding it was finally time to get involved after having supervised for so long. The initiate pulled one of his pistols out of their holsters, and made his way towards the place jogging, his eyes darting to and fro. Never could be too careful after all.

"This is Alaster, I'm coming in now, hold your positions and keep him pinned, I'm on my way." He stated firmly into his SPK-R before entering the building and assessing what his team had done, and if there were any heavier weapons near, or close by his position.

As his eyes slowly scanned the interior, he kept his pistol at the ready, his one organic arm tensed, his cybernetic one was as well in its own way.
 
Alaster would see quite a scene of devastation. The ID-SOLs with their heavy machine guns had torn apart walls, furniture, and decorations alike. The entryway alone was a gory scene, the titanic ID-SOL having bled quite amount before his death. The side of his head looked more like a red mess than a face.

The rest of the house was similar in its state of destruction. There didn't seem to be much that hadn't been bleed on, blown apart, or filled with bullets. Sounds of machine gun fire occasionally echoed from the basement.

If he chose to go upstairs, Alaster would find the boxes of rocket launchers spilled over the very dead ID-SOL on the floor.
 
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