Jan moved forwards in the alley, weapon raised high, as he checked his corners, before breaking into a combat jog, weapon still raised but moving at a faster pace, fully aware that his team were on point with this situation.
"Zhenya, keep up the rear, Scott, stay with me. We are tackling this fucker unless I give the command. Remember." Jan simply said, as they turned the corner, Jan opening up on two men that moved from around a park bench, the sniper round taking one down as Jan took the other, then knowing full well that they were coming close to the Strøget. It felt chaotic, anarchic, and Jan's heart ran faster than ever. Police sirens, the distant yelling of people, it was happening. It felt like he was doing just as much damage as these terrorists were, even if his intentions were to stop them. Perhaps history would remember him like that. Or it wouldn't, as many would probably make it out to be. Jan slid a new magazine into his rifle, dropping one of the PMAGs onto the concrete, sliding the new one in as he moved over the slushy pavement, smashed windows and dead bodies visible. At least half a dozen civies were dead, as Jan saw the carrier and his half a dozen entourage move down the corner, right onto the Strøget.


The shopping street was turned to anarchy, as screams could be heard, gunfire being spread down the road as Jan dived for cover behind a steel bench, bullets flying past as a few civilians were shot, Jan hearing the screams of children and women, families and lovers running for cover into shops and as far from them as they could. The beautiful shop windows and Christmas decorations had bullets in them, and the wet slushy floor beneath his boots felt covered in blood.Sirens were closing in, as Jan shot twice down the street, taking out one of the men, but receiving more back, as the sound of a van behind him could be heard, turning hard behind them in the alley. He saw the omminent sight of Danish Special Forces- creep in, themselves fully aware that this was a terror attack of a high caliber. There were three of them moving up, and Jan knew that in this moment, there was only one thing he could do. They were in the crossfire here. The target was going the other way, but the Danish had him and Scott in his sights. Exhaling, he did the unthinkable.

The bullets hit the men in the chest, knocking them down as their kevlar took the 5.56es, Jan them moving his aim vaguely for their legs, putting a whole magazine between the three men as he breathed hard, then lowering his gun. He wanted to swear. He wanted to say many things, but gunfire from the other side of the street rang out again, as the Strøget rang out in fire, Jan taking a pot shot at another of the men, who had a MG3 set up on a park bench. With a kinched set of rounds, he threw him back, a couple square in his shoulder, before putting half a dozen into his side, clipping him down, then moving up. He reloaded his weapon again as quickly as he could, barking to his team.
"Wendy, get off that roof! Get the vehicle, just drive to our north-west, and keep that jammer in proximity! They're going directly north up the street, we've got Copenhagen PD and Jaegres coming now, they're on kill on sight orders for anyone with a gun." Jan barked, barely caring that he was yelling, absolutely caught in the moment as he moved forwards, using another bench for cover as he saw the men move off the street, around the corner and into another alley. Jan broke into a run, fully aware of the fact that he had his weapon lowered, and began a pursuit, knowing that his two team mates had his back.

Moving off the Strøget, and leaving the carnage that had been left, Jan guessed that the runner had panicked, and wasn't detonating the weapon were it was meant to be placed- and that now, he was looking to break off from Jan and his team. If that happened, Jan knew it would take 30 seconds for him to activate a manual detonation sequence, there was no simple dead man's hand with a weapon like that. It would take time, and Jan fully was aware of this, as they ran onto the road, Jan taking cover by a couple of cars as he sprayed above, the men running across as Jan then looked to Zhenya and Scott.
"We have to catch them, fucking move!" Jan simply commanded, moving around the side and past one of the parked cars, taking a shot at one of the other men by the carrier, A clean headshot sent him tumbling to the ground,as he moved across the slush, police cars on the left and distant lights on the right, Jan fully aware that he could very well be dead if he didn't keep moving right now. The slush beneath the Pole's ground, and his raised HK416, the stock and grip locked around his right shoulder and left hand, the noise and horror of it all, and the deep intense warmth generated from the adrenaline was more than enough to keep Jan from blacking out of this situation and stay on task, knowing completely full well that there was no way that they could let them go. They were moving towards some sort of hotel lobby, and Jan could tell that there were barely a handful left, most of the detail now killed by Jan and his team, and being buffered inside. The local reaction wasn't strong enough- this was hellish, and right about now, Jan could guess that they were probably the only ones locally that knew of the real scale of this attack. As the runner and his two men ran into the hotel lobby, Jan moved across the road, and took cover by a bench, as rounds poured overhead.

"Scott, get a smoke ready. We're going to do something very stupid indeed." Jan simply said, as he lowered his 416, taking his Glock 17, the torn security cable still around it, as he looked to the Englishman, and then at Zhenya.
"Tell Medved to get out of here. Whatever happens next, you pray they don't get blown." Jan said, exhaling, as the rounds stopped.
"Throw it at the door. Now." Jan simply said, as he adjusted his beanie, breathing hard, as he knew that there was no other way to stop this from happening. They were laying down occasional fire, and right now, Jan was prepared to do something stupid indeed, fully aware that this was suicidal. There was no time left. The hotel had a few windows to it's side, and the main glass doors were shattered into pieces, as the runner and his group inside shot dead most of the people in the lobby, as the carrier laid the device onto the desk. Jan hoped the jammer would buy some time- and that the smoke grenade would make perfect what Jan had in mind. A flank through the windows would either work one way or another, and Jan had little time to make a more reasoned choice. 

(We are at the point of the prologue.)