At the moment Rareth gave the order, Opus dropped the rope over the human's head. HE had a split second to be shocked and stunned before the agent pulled the rope tight, using the railing of the catwalk as leverage. He was hoisted into the air, as the rope pulled taut over his neck and was tied into place. He choked and gasped for air, pulling at the rope feebly, before losing consciousness. Opus then drew his blade to begin the fighting in earnest, and took off after his second target, a Masulu who had gotten lost in the maze of warehouse crates and materials.

As the grenade went off and vaporized the fools who should have been paying attention, there was a smile under his mask. So long had he been waiting to get into the action with this team. Hopefully they wouldn't disappoint. As the second mark ran through the rows of crates to get to where the action was, Opus leaped from the catwalk, sailing towards him, he registered he was being chased, and fired off rounds wildly, trying to intercept his assailant. Unfortunately, he was a bad shot, and Opus plunged the blade tip deep into his neck as he landed , as the blade sliced and sawed through his thoracic organs like a hot knife through butter. 

Blood choked and spluttered out of his horrified mouth, spraying the agent's armor, as he took the rifle out of his hand and held his body close, his armor shielding the assassin from the hail of bullets from the elevator rebel squad. Opus fired the plasma rifle back from underneath the dead guard's arm, forcing them into cover and drawing their gaze towards him. With their attention on this dirophyd, the rest of the team could ambush them easily.