Eric followed close, keeping their rear covered. He still held his silenced MP5 in hand, it wasn't the best for long range as he'd like. But it'd do in a pinch. He took a half step to the right, peering around the corner he's at. Lines up on the left hand gaurd. And with a careful double squeeze of the trigger, the 9mm rounds punched through the guard's left cheek, but didn't have the momentum to punch out of the back of his skull so they instead rattle around inside the man's head for abit. He dropped dead either way. Eric grinned broadly. Checking around the grounds really quickly to make sure they hadn't been made yet. He grinned broadly. Then cinched the MP5 tightly against his chest, he pushed his face plate down as he looked to Markus, "That didn't go too badly." He unslung the FN FAL off his back, worked the safety and cranked the loading bolt to make sure everything is in place. "And you're probably right. No financial responsibility. Guy probably has Ferrari's and SUVs and other exotic cars out the wazoo, and gives almost no thought to what it costs or even takes them out of first gear."

Eric trailed along behind his partner, "Twenty five or more guards? Shouldn't be a problem, not when we're kitted like we are." He took the other side of the door from Markus. Waiting for the thunder. And it came, the door vanished. Eric followed Markus in close. The pair had done this so many times in the past. It's why they had never been transferred to another team, they almost knew what each other were thinking. Eric came into the room and covered his sections. He had broken an older rifle out of storage for this operation. Not because it's more reliable, hell the FN FAL is a relic. No, because of what the rifle brought to the table. He could have chosen any 5.56mm rifle available. Or maybe a 6.5mm rifle, hell there were newer rifles that fired the same 7.62 round the FN FAL fired. But it is the ruggedness and pure awesome power the C1A1 brought to the table. When the FN FAL barked, you knew you were up shit creek. And it barked, and bit hard. The big 7.62 round tore through the armoring the mercs. brought with them. Eric had the rifle on semi-auto fire, so he could control the pacing of the fire rate. And it worked wonders. Two rounds a piece, pop pop. And they dropped hard.

Eric threw himself behind cover as a trio of AK-12s opened up on him. He rolled and came up, dropping the spent mag in his rifle, "I almost get the impression they don't like us crashing the party." He waited until Markus had given him a window, then charged across the lounge. Lowering his shoulder, and slamming through a decorative whicker wall. He took two men by surprise. The first one he put two rounds into his dome. The second man managed to swat his rifle aside. Eric grabbed him with one hand and slugged him hard. Then grabbed him with his other hand pulled him close and head butted the merc hard. Eric could almost feel the man's face distort. Eric drew the dual Hi-Powers, and used them to finish a few more men who hadn't yet turned towards him, "Massive TV, bet it's not even 4G. Not even HDMI ready either." He provided covering fire for his partner, but had to stop briefly when he clearly felt a 5.56 round ring off the side of his helmet, "Ahh putain de enfer! Ow! Bastard...that actually hurt."