As Jan and Zhenya headed directly for the lifts, Wendy bought up the same thing that niggled at Scott's mind: There could be other Tangoes on this floor, and elsewhere in the building. 
[quote]"Jan, I'm going to be doing a little recon by myself..." [/quote]
His eyes snapped to her, and then to Jan. "I'll back you up," he said in a clipped tone, and with a nod. As she moved off silently, or as damn near as, the englishman followed suit. She took out two tangoes and he nodded in affirmation, moving past her into an adjoining room. Two more of the hostiles lurked there, eyes on the street through the big plate glass windows of what seemed to be some kind of break-room. Both had their backs to him. Immediately, he pulled the P-90 to his shoulder, the suppressor already attached. One of the men began to turn as he pulled the trigger. The first 5.7mm round hit the man on the right high in the head, spraying a cloud of gore into the air and across his compatriots' face, before the second round, hitting as he was beginning to fall, caught him through the ear and exited in a messy hole through the front of his face. The second man opened his mouth to shout and began to raise his weapon, eyes wide in alarm; but Scott had already anticipated the action, and fired a second pair of rounds. They caught high in the hostiles' torso, slamming into his chest and sending him to the ground in a clutter of tangled limbs. Moving swiftly, he stepped over to the downed man. His eyes were already clouding over as blood bubbled from his lips. Grimacing, Scott drew his knife and slit the mans' throat; even a shit like this didn't deserve to suffer for long. 
He quietly called in two more down as he made his way to the lift. He waited for Wendy to climb up, her having got there ahead, before he hauled himself up through the hatch, and then began his own climb. 
It was arduous and straining; even with the workouts he took to keep in shape and the relentless practice they all endured, it was an unpleasant environment and the lift cable itself was greasy, coarse and abrasive. Nonetheless, with much swearing under his breath and a red face, he made it to the top a few moments behind the others, swiftly climbing out of the shaft and taking a kneeling position as he regained his breath and took a quick sip of water from his camelback. As he sat still and waited, his eyes were hard and alert, ears pricked and listening for any unusual sound. He kept his expression hard, despite the whirl of adrenaline and emotions inside himself. He nodded to the others as they too stood ready. Wendy moved to set up her huge rifle, and once she'd called in she was set up, Scott looked to Jan.
"I think we're ready, sir," he said quietly. "Everyone's present and accounted for. Better tie off".
He moved to the edge of the roof, keeping low to avoid silhouetting himself and began looking to a good point to tie his rapelling rope, waiting for the order from Jan. Timing would be crucial as they dropped in. If there was too much of a delay, then one of the others might not have cover at the right moment. Letting the P-90 dangle for a moment, he unreeled his nylon rope and began to tie off, threading the other end through the harness around his waist and chest.