(Two part post with Queen- post schedule is as normal after my next.)

Jan moved through, watching Scott get thrown back by the soldier, as he kept right as his back. He couldn't fire the 870, not a chance- it relied on sweeping Scott's flanks, not direct. So he did the only thing he knew he could, as he watched Scott lose his weapon, the Mk23 falling to the floor as the .45 ACP weapon was out of his reach, Scott now thrown back, and Jan able to move quickly. He had been unable to shoot as the shot was too compromised- but he had a split second, a moment, a chance to stop this, quickly and cleanly. The man stood over Scott after punching him in the back of the neck, the man preparing to do something worse, with the utensil of his in his right hand, as he darted forward. Jan responded, already words and action forming as his right hand clasped the grip and the trigger, already acting.
"Head down!" Jan yelled, as he flanked the man that had slashed Scott, moving in and aiming the weapon upwards. The man didn't have a helmet or a ballistic vest, but it wouldn't help. The 12G Buckshot emptied, the fairly tight spread decimating the man as Jan directed it high purposely, the shot pumped out as the man fell, the buck doing brutal work against the man, as Jan scanned up the stairs, and around the rest of the corridor, before looking down on Scott.
"You save my ass, I'll save yours. Come on." Jan said, looking down as he offered a hand to Scott to get up, Neil sweeping the rear as he followed in, AUG raised as he moved through, the room empty but covered in dust. The grenade had literally torn pieces of the mudbrick and plaster apart, with some of it still loose even now. Putting the 870 away after loading a new round, Jan switched over to his own HK45C, the weapon tight in his hands as he looked around.
"Neil, head outside round the front with Scott, I'll head up. Fire's died down outside, keep your ears open. Zhenya, Wendy, status?" Jan added, as Neil nodded, moving himself forwards as he knew that Scott and himself would cover each other. Jan headed up, sweeping with the HK, checking corners as the Puma-camoflaged soldier headed towards where Zhenya and Wendy were, and sweeping behind, then realized what was happening.

Headed towards the front door, Neil kicked the open structure, as he realized what was going on, with Scott in tow.
"Boss, the Iraqi team's dead...contact's moving across the street, PID a guy with a canister plus two more headed to an old Mercedes. This the real deal?" Neil said, as he raised his AUG rifle, watching them run towards the vehicle, keeping within the house, the response falling on an unresponsive ear as Jan followed suit into the room in which Wendy and Zhenya had come into, with a certain pace. He saw the man across the other end of the room, sat, the detonator raising and not a single other thought of what it was. Jan's own pistol was raised, but the dead man's trigger could be seen in the frame of his hand. Something that any SF operator would look for, without a single doubt of mind 
"Drop it!" Jan yelled, as the man raised it higher, guessing only one way was going to work to stop this man from doing it. There was no chance of getting the gas mask on, and neither would exactly running now be an option. There wasn't time to talk, and listen to demands. They'd die, either by trying to stop this man, or letting him get the jump when their guard down. But it wasn't his shot to make. It was Wendy's, and she already was set.