Smith and her squad backed against the wall, no mistakes now, she nodded and Jones and Michaels kicked the door in and Banks threw a smoke grenade through the hole, less than three minutes passed and the members of the terrorist cell were either dead or tied up on the floor. Orders had been simple, shoot only if necessary, and if you shot to kill the guy needed to have a gun in your face to justify it.
One body count, three dead, two wounded and four prisoners, she'd shot one herself, he'd snuck up behind her in the smoke, placed a gun to the side of her head not noticing the rifle pointing at his stomach, before he had known what was happening she'd released the safety and fired six 9mm bullets through his kidneys ripping them both to shreds.
She turned the body over with his foot, a teenager she saw, sixteen if he was a day, he'd probably done what he did out of sheer bravado, or stupidity, probably both, rammed into his head by the teachings of the men who'd surrendered the moment they came through the door. She bent down to pick up the boy's pistol, the safety was still on she noticed.
She thought of her own daughter back home in Paragon City, she thought of the terrorists busting into her apartment, her daughter running into her parents bedroom, opening the safe, pulling out one of the loaded pistols in the safe and pulling the same trick, but with one difference, the safety would be off, both her kids knew how to handle the pistols in that safe, even in Statesman's city you couldn't be too safe.
She turned her attention to the four captives, kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs, facing west, she didn't believe in their god, or that he'd help these murderers, but she didn't believe in the Greek gods either, and Zeus in human form flew around her home city every day. It paid to be safe, facing west they couldn't pray to him properly, if that was how they got messages to him.
She radioed for the transports and body bags before turning her attention to her men. "Good work," she barked proudly, "another terrorist cell busted, we're home free."
Then the wall exploded and an old man floated through dressed in the robes of an Islamic Priest, glowing light surrounded his hands.
"I am the Prophet," recited the old man as though speaking it for the first time, "I have been granted powers by Allah to cleanse the land of the unbelievers and to free the Warriors of Allah from the cages the unbelievers have wrought."
"We have a Class 4 meta-human situation here," yelled Sergeant Smith into her headset, as she dived for cover with her men, as she watched the "Prophet" raise the dead boy she turned back to the headset, "correction," she continued, "a Class 6, possibly higher, requesting meta-human backup ASAP."