Aleksandra pulled the pin on a grenade, tossing it into an adjacent room and whipping back behind the wall as the blast shook the ground. She burst in, finishing one mortally wounded hostile with the rest of the contents of the magazine - three shots to the chest before he could get off a shot with the rusty AK in his hands. The poor bastard was covered in dirt and looked like he hadn’t eaten properly in… he didn’t look like he’d had a proper meal at any point in his life at all actually. Still, he would’ve shot her all the same - so she didn’t feel too sorry for him.

She wasn’t too sure just how much opposition Dima and Nikolaj were facing, but resistance in the rooms she was going through was relatively minimal - a handful hostiles and nothing more. She spoke into the headset, checking that Johnston was covering her as she moved through the rest of the building, “This is Volkov. Hostiles neutralized. 

The radio crackled in, and she paused for a moment to listen and reload her weapon, moving back to a previously cleared room for safety and to find wherever Johnston was. She was quickly given reason to doubt her urban warfare skills as another assailant burst through the flimsy door in front of her from the room she thought had been cleared. As it was, she was in the middle of moving to drop the magazine from her rifle, and his own weapon was levelled in her direction as he shouted at her in the local language. Reflexively, she let go of the empty rifle and whipped her revolver from its chest holster, sinking four rounds into his chest and leaping to the side - where the hell was Johnson?! “Говно!” She hissed as she grabbed the rifle again, quickly inserting a fresh magazine and charging the weapon. Priming a flashbang, she lobbed it into the room he had charged from and swept in after, finding no other hostiles. Maybe it was just a fluke…? That, or a very patient and stealthy man.

The static of the radio burst in again and she paused. 250 kilos of PETN? Just… sitting there? That was… she wondered for a moment if some of the brilliant minds in the Arbat military district or American Pentagon were secretly working with these people. That was a plausible explanation for this level of incompetency. “Affirmative.” She turned from the room, moving to the entrance and now exit as she barked into the radio, “Johnson, wherever you are, we are pulling out of the building, Davidsen, obviously the same goes. Meet up with us and prepare to watch fireworks. Sans colors.” Wherever the TACP man was, there would be words later.

As she reached the secured point with the Dutch forces, she approached Dima, looking over at the building for a moment before remarking, “This will be fun.” Hunkering down behind a wall, she looked around for the other members of Blue team to make sure they were all present and accounted for. Dima was right next to her, Davidsen was here, and Johnson too. 

She motioned to Nikolaj, “Blue is all present and accounted for.”