(Posts from me are going to be a little erratic over the next three weeks or so- exam season is really kicking in, so thanks to half a bottle of cider, I feel motivated to write this post.)
(Also, Queen is going through the same as me, US version I would think. I'll let her post on her own behest.)

Jan heard the radio call from Scott, as he laid down some more suppressing fire, taking out a pair of hostiles behind a pair of cars on the other side of the road. The rope was a pretty good idea- and would probably hold, so long as the Pole didn't throw too much weight onto it immediately.
"Zhenya, Neil, keep up some cover!" Jan yelled, as he expended the last of the magazine, slotting in another. Fourth from last. There wasn't going to be a lot of shooting, if all went to plan, Captain Bogdanowicz reminded himself. The pain from a few cuts and bruises he had from the blast was lingering, but he was glad he was where he was when it did happen. Any bits of rubble and shrapnel that had blown the facia off had been mostly taken up by the desk, though he still knew that if it wasn't for the fact he was shooting people, and being shot at in response, that it would be nigh on impossible. The last hostile on the road was dead, as the wail of sirens got closer and closer.

Jan HK-slapped the 416, and moved onto the rope, moving over the crevasse, and bumping off the first floor window as he went down. Dropping the last few feet, he rolled, the parachute landing fall one that he still remembered well and served excellently to make sure he didn't damage his ankles in a fall like this. Moving to Scott's side, he surveyed the street, and heard the sirens come even closer. Neil made a move for the rope, as Jan notioned to Scott, before moving around cover himself, covering the far end of the road. Jan could see cops. They had stopped at least 200m away, and it looked like there were at least three vans. This was a SWAT team of sorts- either Police-based, or SF of sorts. Jan didn't want to linger any longer than was needed. The militants on the other side of the road were dead, or running. And they were headed into an alley, down which Jan knew that Zhenya's friends had tracked their gist. They'd be heading to the shopping street, if they were going east. And Jan knew that as Neil came down, and Zhenya was the last to go; getting a move on would be an essential.

"Scott, I want you to keep point- we're headed down this alley, it should take us out to the Strøget. No doubt there will be civies, and possibly cops too...watch fire when you can, and watch any runners. Wendy, we've got multiple movers going east, you're going to gain sight intermittently. Take careful shots, take out the carrier's entourage, and track the carrier. We know it's going to take at least a minute or so to prime the weapon, if he goes for a manual detonation. Zhenya...fuck, this is going to really screw us over. I need you to figure out a way to make sure that those police don't immediately follow us. Use your imagination- we let them get ahead of us, and it's game over if we want to catch these fuckers." Jan simply said, as he looked over at his men, before adjusting the Holographic Sight on his weapon. The street was filled with cars, and bodies. The Pole didn't know what Zhenya was going to do, in reality, but whatever it was, there had to be a way to cut the police team from chasing them into the alley.