[right][h2][color=dimgray][u]C O N R A D   " [/u][/color][color=dimgray][u][color=cyan]F[/color][/u][/color][color=dimgray][u] O U R S "   P A T R I C K[/u][/color][/h2][/right]
[right][sup][sup][@TTNoobs][/sup][/sup][/right]
[color=lightblue]"Perimeter alarms just got tripped too- someone's in the building."[/color] Fours said nothing when K-Ton made the announcement, waving the group down. With slow, precise movements, Fours slung his shotgun over his shoulder, and pulled out his magnum. The movement was followed only by a silent scraping of metal on metal, and the light click of a safety being toggled.

Fours' eyes tracked Luciel as she sprung into action, ever eager for a fight. Fours admired the shining spirit the girl bore, though he certainly didn't appreciate her lack of finesse. He frowned as she pressed her back to the wall directly adjacent to the door, preparing to attack anyone who would dare come through. His eyes narrowed to a scalpel point, as visions danced through his head. The door splintered open, shrapnel and dust making a cloud in the air that swallowed the rookie, leaving behind a brutalized pulp of gore and wooden shards. Fours shook the image from his head, only for another to shove it's way in. Light penetrated into the room in horizontal columns of dust. Each spread of light opening into the room was punctuate by a loud bang, moving in a quick waving from right to left. As the spray of piercing rounds fired into the room, they found resistance in the body of the rookie, shock from the bullets keeping her suspended on her feet long after life left her glazed eyes. One more vision lurked in the side of his vision, distracting the medic -a massive aberrant blue figure smashed through the wall, an alien form of nightmares, whose massive metallic footfall brought the rookie down with a gut wrenching crunch. 

Fours pressed his fingers to his eyes, finally succeeding to erase the unwanted thoughts of brutality from his mind when Berne pried Luciel away from the doorway. As if on cue, a voice chimed up over the comms. [color=lightcoral]"This is Iron. We got several people coming - militia colors and they look armed. Good arms too - within range. Permission to fire?"[/color] Fours' eyes widened, marginally, at the comment. He had admired Iron's professionalism for as long as they had worked together, though her constant silence was something unnerving. Hey certainly appreciated the fact that she was wise enough to stray from the line of fire -there were very few occasions he had the need to patch her of any wounds. Yet, her silence was certainly unnerving at times. The knowledge that eyes are constantly watching, placing their ironclad judgement on any and all under their gaze.

[color=0054a6]"Jason, as much as I'd love to kick-start my fledgling political career with a storied speech, I can't imagine a full-armoured ODST is going to be a paragon of diplomatic virtue! It would be...appropriate for us to split up, we are limited in our resources, but I cannot tolerate any injury to our charges. Fours and I will find the ring-leaders... Your good self, and Kensington over here, will watch the crowd"[/color] Fours listened to the plan of the leader, nodding his head as the man spoke. Fours tried his best to not think too hard about orders given by Berne. As a medic, Fours was out of a job if everything went according to plan. Always better he focus on the present, leave planning ahead to the more foolhardy and optimistic. Fours' preparation consisted instead of repeating a mantra in his head of medical procedures, whatever he thought might be useful in the coming shitstorm. 

[color=paleturquoise][i]"Knock knock, knock knock. Here come the peacemakers."[/i][/color] Thought Fours, staying just a pace behind Berne. 

[color=0054a6]"No more chatter, Fours. It's just you and me, now..."[/color] Fours heard some chatter coming from the others as he followed Berne into the staircase, but did not pay any heed. As Berne had so succinctly put it, it was just the two of them. Two walking armories of men, against a raging wave of protestors, their only assurance for survival a pair of sniper rifles and some canisters of gas. Fours shuddered at the thought of something going wrong. Iron could drop a few adversaries at most, and tear gas would do more harm than good, should the ODSTs get overwhelmed. He considered making a statement along those lines to Berne, but remained silent at his orders, simply raising his pistol to head height as he followed closely behind.