[b]Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Security Room[/b]

The security chief appeared flabbergasted at the personalities present in the hall. The oversized shotgun toting "tech". The team leader who just described an extraction team while denying themselves as the extraction team. And the oddly glistening Italian who for some reason wore mirrored aviators inside. 

Her finger straying to the trigger of the shotgun. Ideas that perhaps the trio in front of her were intruders. She thought the better of it however. Relaxing slightly, in the event this wasn't Acheron; there wasn't much she could do about at this point. Not after the better part of the day had been spent watching her security staff (and the civilian staff) be whittled down. 

[quote=@Dyelli beybi]"Perhaps you can tell us what happened to these people? Perhaps that is not allowed.  The most important thing is that bullets seem to stop them and they appear to be very dead indeed at this point.  I hope that all my assumptions are correct. Sì?" [/quote]

"I don't know what experiment they were specifically." Ava admitted, nudging a corpse with a boot. "All I know is there was a breach just before lunch. Before I could scramble a team we were up to our asses in muscled hulks and these tinker toy corpses. They've been dragging the bodies down below though. Saw that much before they...well..." 

She motioned at the door. Gouges evident from where strong grips had crumpled it like tissue paper. 

Motion at the end of the hall had the odd assemblage turn. The enthusiasm in which it opened belied the figure that came through. Not a Tech-zombie or a Goliath. But one Samantha Norr wearing a customer service smile. 

"Mrs. Wiberg, I'm glad to see you made it out alright. Samantha Norr, Acheron Recovery Services." In that space she had managed to close the distance, move past the muzzle of a half raised shotgun and shake the confused security chief's hand while pressing a business card into her hand. The security chief's brows were furrowed and raised as as Samantha continued. "I have a team waiting to take you outside while we carry out with our procedures. Lima, escort MRs Wiberg and her colleagues to a chopper!" 

As she talked the hall behind filled with the others that had followed Sam up. Soraya and Imogen, the intrepid Concealment team with their gadgets. The Lima fireteam and Stokes filled out Norr's impromptu group. Or at least Lima did before they glanced at each other with a shrug of their shoulders and led the chief and her surviving officers down the stairs. Graves might have been Field Commander but Norr stood at the same spot on the totem pole and she had been right there. 

Which left Sam with the team Daniel had sent to the security room, the Concealment team and the old warhorse Stokes. Though the sniper, Redecker, on the outside might be able to give a bit of cover if the angle was right. 

Sam tried to seize the moment. Channeling the best confident voice she could muster. 

"Alright, you guys are with us. We're getting a reporter from the fourth floor. Move out!" 

Her voice broke with an unfortunate caught at the end.


---------

[b]Fourth Floor[/b] 

For all the gunfire of the loading bay and the sniper's deadly work; the initial entry onto the top floor was uneventful. The top floor obviously the executive floor; rich carpets and richer furnishers now ruined by the rampaging cyborgs and hulks. 

The team spreading out cautiously for their search; Sam ducking into a conference room to slowly pan her weapon over a richly appointed room. Better appointed then Acheron's boardroom in fact. 

Sam took a moment to admire a particular rich dark red leather swivel chair. Wondering if she could haul it out of here for her office. So her gaze was not able to see a figure hidden in the shadows swing an identical chair with all its might at the face of Soraya. 

[@Dyelli Beybi], [@Theyra], [@PrinceAlexus], [@Tesserach], [@PatientBean], [@JFK], [@Flarbinia]