[b]Obsidian Dynamics Research Facility
Utah
Sector Null Zero[/b]

Those that had chosen to descend to the basement found their path descending corpse and blood strewn stairs. The after-effects of DA's clearing having left multiple tech-zombies, a pair of Goliath's and five of their own number in varying levels of death and dismemberment over the four flights. 

The bottom yielded no prettier a sight. Two more shooters having been hastily bodybagged off to the side a stark comparison to the macabre scene of what had been four dozen tech zombies. Their augmented limbs shiny and visible amongst the puddled gore their physical bodies had been reduced to by the machine gun team. The pile of .338 cartridges massive compared to the dull sheen of carbine and pistol casings that interspersed the space. 

Graves was taking a knee, talking to one of the helo pilots on the surface. 

"... Get Mike and November spun up. We're going to need a second wave at this rate....No Norr didn't authorize it. I did. Graves out!" His attention turning to the odd assemblage of personnel that had come down from the fourth deck. 

"I don't care how you do it. Someone get this door open." He jabbed his thumb behind him. Beyond the gruesome killing ground and a sad, unmanned security deck, sat a door. More befitting a bank vault then a research facility. Its card read gave a furtive angry beep as a shooter frustratedly ran a confiscated key card through. 

The continuous denials added to the din of the surviving shooters reloading and collecting themselves. Graves' annoyance visible even through his gas mask. A feeling apparently shared by another DA shooter. 

"Zavala, if it didn't work the first fifty times why would work the next eighty?" 

"What's wrong about it?" The reply accompanied another angry beep. 


@Tesserach, @PatientBean, @JFK

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