He nods shortly, looking for it through the smoke, coughing and glancing back to see if anyone else is coming out to join the party. "Might be the best way. It's just a fuckin' crack in the wall. They probably won't be guarding it." Four down now. Or is it five? He doesn't know and that's not good, because he should know, he should have a running tally of the bodycount in his head. How many down, how many probably left to worry about. A place this size...

Who the fuck knows.

"Here," he says, ducking into the wall. The guard is still lying there in the rubble, unconscious. So only three or four. He looks at the man a second, raises his gun and pulls the trigger. The man jerks once and vanishes.

So, four. Or five.