Ross kept up the fire, putting rounds down range but not like the operator that Athena was. He took his time, a little terrified of course that he was being shot at, and having to take a moment to think about what the fuck he was doing. Peeking around, he popped one shot off at a Sicario who took it to the chest, before looking over.
"We're getting eaten alive here!" He yelled across to Athena, as he heard the whine of metal begin to move.
"Shit!" He yelled, pushing on his door as Athena took the lead, Ross using the remainder of his magazine in the Glock to take one more man down that had run into the centre of the compound, armed with another Glock variant himself. The distraction had been good enough to take their eye off the ball, as Ross ran over towards Athena, sliding across the dirt behind the concrete barricade.

"Fucking hell, that was close!" Ross yelled, as he leaned over cover, taking an accurate shot at a couple of men that were on the far left of their sight, by another outbuilding. Two pulls and another had gone down, the mag dry inside the Austrian pistol. Dropping back down, he looked to the gun bag once more, and pulled out the last bulge that sat inside. It was the M4 that they'd brought from earlier on, the same one that Mark had used near the border town. Sliding a 5.56 inside, and taking a few mags with him, he looked to Athena, nodding as he peeked left of his cover, and put rounds down range. Bullets flew past the concrete, the car was riddled with bullet holes but from this position, they had a fighting chance. They were only coming from one way, and had relatively difficult overview onto where they were firing from. Here they could hold, as they knew that the Sicarios were fully aware of where they were.

-------

Emerging on the other side of the fence, Mark watched as the two sicarios ran past, smoothly emerging from the cover and putting two rounds into their heads. He had a surgical accuracy, and up close, he wasn't going to miss, not when he was in this mindset. He had his own work to do, and a professional would sort this problem of Ross's out. While getting what he was looking for.
"Ellie, nicely done. Ross, Athena, hold your position and make sure nobody leaves through the front door. I'll sort out our friends inside. And see if they have what we are looking for. Once we have this squared away, we are out of here." Mark said, Ross sighing as he heard the remark, looking to Athena with a look to say "This is what he's like. " The Marine lived on somewhat in Mark, as he moved through.

"Okay, listen to me carefully. Ellie, stay hidden and keep out of the way. I'm going to need you for something soon, so stay on channel. I'll take care of business." Mark added, moving towards the back of the old villa, the commotion at the front making it easy to sneak inside. And he did, sliding through the back door as he moved through a kitchen of some kind, the place barren. The noise of guns being cocked could be heard in the next room, as Mark moved through, taking a stake knife from a surface as he turned the corner, and grinning.

"Oi, compadres!" Mark yelled, lobbing the heavy kitchen knife straight towards one man's skull, before laying a singular round through the nose of the other, the silenced P226 making short work of the man's temple. He moved fast, two more coming down the stairs as he put five rounds between them, almost completely effortlessly. If Ross was in panic, Mark was in confidence. 

Heading up the staircase, he saw one charge through the door, Uzi in hand as the Sicario yelled out. This was one of them. One of the Panamianians. He could tell from the same bitch-ass look on his face, just like Luis's. The sicario raised his hand but Mark was faster, pushing the weapon away as he twisted the man's arm and used it to hurl him away, weapon out of hand and down the stairs, before a 9mm entered his skull too. Uzi in hand, Mark turned the corner and sprayed inside, blindfiring. That would seem strange, but Mark had already seen the glint through the mirror of what was going on, taking out two more men before entering, Sig raised and poised. One of the men screamed on the floor, as he shot him calmly in the head, textbook as ever. One more was in the far end of the large bedroom, covered in blood, with a case at his body.

"You have it." Mark said, completely cold, any personality leaving him and now, only decisive and scalpel-accurate action left.
"Just one case." Mark repeated, shaking his head.
"How many more of your crew are left?" He asked, the man spluttering, having to raise his voice given the Fallujah-style firefight going on outside.

"Fuck you, pendejo!" He spluttered, blood coughing as Mark walked over, gently putting his P226 straight against the wound in his arm, from the Uzi's spray.
"I grazed you, lucky enough. But there's a bullet hole right in your abdomen. You'll die of shock and blood loss in about two hours. Tell me, or you'll find out what it's like to bleed to fucking death, prick." Mark's Scots accent was utterly terrifying, even to this Panamanian crook, who was now realising that the protection of a whole gang of Sicarios was now gone, his crew dead, and a terrifying man about to be a dimebag executioner.

"You know, we didn't want to hurt her, ese. It was just loose ends....there isn't going to be anyone left, you know. But she played the wrong games. Caught in the crossfire, man. Is that what this is about?" He said, spluttering as he chuckled.
"You're in luck....you might as well kill me now, it was just us five. But you have no idea who wants that case, do you. Or what's inside. Are you taking it back to them?" The bleeding man uttered, Mark dragging him against the wall, as he kept an eye on the entrance, his Sig readied if needs be.

"You seemed to be willing to hire a small army to protect it. I take it that it has value. And that means my trip to your shitty villa isn't in vein." Mark replied, as the man chuckled, spluttering more blood.
"And that still wasn't enough, clearly! You could still help me, man. Get me out of here, I'll tell them to stop shooting your friends. Enough people have died or been hurt over this case..." He said, as Mark shook his head.

"No." Mark stood up, as he walked over to the table, case in hand, before looking back at the bleeding man. He took one good look and insight into what this guy had done, what they had gotten up to. They hadn't gone out and fought on the frontline, which was rather odd. Perhaps more a stickup crew, than an armed security detail. They wouldn't get their hands dirty, but here Mark was, killing half a dozen of them to get what he wanted.
"I think......" He added, Mark turning to the man for one last time....

"Not enough." He gently raised his hand, and put the poor bastard out of his misery, the silenced round blasting through his nose and out of the back of his head, as he put the case on the table. This was for Ross's wife. This was for a bunch of difficult Sicarios that wanted to kill his friends. But more than that. This was for something he'd been looking for, wanting to find for a while. Putting hand to ear, he headed to the window, looking out from the far villa down to the front entrance and the carnage ensuing there.

"It's sorted. Ellie, head back the way we came, we've got what we needed. Ross, Athena, I'm going to flank them and give you a chance to get out of here. It seems like it was a small crew of them in here, and they won't be coming back to clean any loose ends."