Hayden nodded and moved slightly to the side just in case the others decided to rush or enter the kill zone. And they indeed did. He mounted his Bren on a overturned desk. And did what an LMG is used best for. Reaching out with a hand he made some quick C-form measurements, thumb and pinky held out to the side of a closed fist keeping some distance between his teammates and...the rolling chatter of his Bren as he starts to fire.

Credit where it's due, the rifles the others used ate great weapons, tough and they hit hard. But there's a bit of a difference between them and a heavier gun like the Bren. The long barreled monster was designed to shoot down aircraft and as a squad weapon. And it shows. As the rounds he puts out cause a few of the until then hidden skinnies to dodge back into their hiding spots. Atleast after the first few were riddles with several holes. The gun doesn't hit as fast as newer guns, but it hits hard. Throwing one poor bastard through a pane of scrap glass. Another having his arm removed when two round punch through his shoulder. He fell screaming in horror.

And then the action had moved far enough up, he called l, "Displacing..." He sounds put together, like the gunfire this time has kept his mind stable...what's the trigger? What makes him see red black and white, and what makes him seem stable, an enigma within a puzzle. Hayden almost deadlines the Bren up pulling the pry 30 round clip off the top, sliding it into the empty pocket to be reloaded later. And with a huff one of those 100 round pans is removed off his harness, slapped u0 top the gun, fitted with a thump of his fist and the gun full charged just as he riches the wall with Sean, he peers at the Irishman the battle high clear in everyone. A look for Kat to make sure she's okay, a look Beth then as he steps around, knee chambered he hears a cry of rage the click of something one handed maybe? He dodged luck pure luck ad some bug slug punched through the door and would have cored Hayden right in the gut. He growled, hollering, "Hey bitch, suck my dick!" Then back kicked the door open enough for Sean to get the grenade in, "Fire in the hole!" A curse from with, the door shooting off its hinges outwards. And just like Sean said, Hayden turns the side of the door braces the big gun on his hip, sling tight, and the hose begins. 

100 rounds. One hundred. Brass flying, rounds hissing. Sparks from within the room even as the black smoke from the grenade still hasn't cleared. 

One hundred rounds. The muzzle of the Bren sweeping an arc back and forth hosing the inside of the room.

And it's only when the gun clicks empty that it finally ends, Hayden standing there panting, now his eyes are glassy, now he's not all there, but this is different this isn't the blind blood rage from the earlier fights, this is a gun high.

Hayden puffs and releases his white knuckled grip on the Bren carefully and goes for his pistol, "Let's clear it..." He gulps then reaches up to pat the top of his head, "On me." The classic sign. And they are headed into the room.

And one by one the bodies come in to view. Skinnies hit by the grenade. And quickly those who had been hit by that hosing from the LMG. Hayden steps left from the door, pistol held ahead, reaching one of the far corners turning to watch as others come I to the room, "Clear..." And his eyes go right to the queen bitch her self. Some how unlike the others in the room she's barely clinging to life.

For how long who knows. She sits and croak and coughs, a mangled revolver in one hand her rebar stake held in a blooded hand on the other side. Sheer spite and evil keeping her breathing. She lays against what looks like a safe glaring at the team. Yes that is a very angry woman.