[h3]Charles Balderdash and Shanon[/h3]
“Hurt yes.” She managed to rumble a short reply. 

“This place cold. I not like cold. This place feel…tickle neck.” Shanon whined and scratched the back of her neck with one of her arms. “Same tickle neck Agents by home. I not like this place.”

 Again, Shanon felt her attention being drawn to Wolfe as the man appeared to be boiling within his own skull. She watched with a frown as he shook and seethed before he bellowed to them all. On instinct, she hit the ground; Agents had often said those words before they used their weapons. The remaining walls of the room cascaded outwards and shattered silently into dust, and the other parts of the ruins now left unsupported quickly followed.

“Russia place bad.” Shannon dared to peak from between her claws.

“Shanon grab that box: the biggest one!” Charles ordered, scrambling towards the laptop.

With camera still in hand he slammed the laptop shut and stuffed it under an arm. Already Charles was making a list in his head of what they had to move out first, at the very top of that list all the data they had collected shortly followed by personnel. 

“Someone grab the body if they can.” He stuffed written notes into his pockets. “If not just leave it.”