Pounding his way up flight after flight of stairs, Trafalgar worked his way up towards the top. At the landing just below the final door, Trafalgar stopped to catch his breath. The door at the top of the last set of stairs exploded inward, impacting against the wall directly opposite and filling the room with noise and smoke.
The door grated and banged it's way down the stairwell as three black-clad men entered the stairwell area. They made sounds, but it did not make any sense in Trafalgar's mind. He found himself pulling the 1911 he had found from his vest and firing.
The first two men staggered back and seemingly dissolved into nothing. The third man ducked back outside. Trafalgar picked up one of the weapons from the downed men, a MP5. He took the magazine from the second one. A grenade rolled in through the door as Trafalgar made his way to the top of the stairs. He knocked it off the landing, sending it down the stairwell where it exploded and rocked the staircase itself.
Trafalgar turned on his radio now that he was out of the facility. Bullets tinged at the doorway and he kept back.
"Black Cloud, this is Fox. Come in."
Nothing but static came from the radio. Trafalgar took his hand away from the mic and shook his head.
"Damn it!"
Pulling his last grenade, Trafalgar prepared it and tossed it outside. It exploded a few seconds later and Trafalgar heard some more of the weird guttural sounds he had heard the first three of these guys make. Quickly slipping out of the doorway, Trafalgar made a run for cover, using the MP5 in bursts to keep the enemy at bay. He had to get his location in order to try and report in.
Ducking down behind a concrete barrier, Trafalgar saw that he was on a small airstrip. More than likely to bring personnel and supplies down through C3. Bullets impacted against the concrete barrier. Trafalgar peered above the top just long enough to fire a three round burst at an approaching target. The man collapsed and dissolved.
The cover here was minimal and he could very easily be flanked. Trafalgar fired another burst from his MP5 and ran towards a shed. Bullets impacted the ground and heated the air around him as he ran. As he made it to the door, two rounds tore into his left thigh and Trafalgar collapsed through the shed door. He dragged himself inside as more bullets pinged against the cinder block wall of the shed.
"Crap...," said Trafalgar.
He pulled the empty magazine from his MP5 and replaced it with the one spare he had. Looking out of the doorway, Trafalgar caught two of the commandos advancing on his position and cut them down with the MP5. They dropped and thrashed for a few seconds until they dissolved.
"That is just disturbing..."
Trafalgar caught a few more commandos and then his MP5 ran dry. He dropped it and drew his 1911. He had fired it three times. He had four left until he needed to reload. He had fourteen more rounds after that and then he was done.
A grenade bounced through the doorway of the shed and Trafalgar reflexively picked it up and tossed it back outside. The grenade exploded, knocking him against the far wall of the shed. His vision swam and his ears rang. He was also pretty sure he had taken some fragmentation, even though he could not feel it at the moment.
Through his haze he could see shadows of approaching figures on the wall across from him. His time was up. Fourth down with five yards to the goal line and the clock was running down. Looks like it's game over, champ.
Trafalgar closed his eyes for a moment, his grip tightening on his 1911. He fought to raise his arm. He would at least get one more. If only the thumping inside his ears would stop. The noise was deafening. He wanted to hear them coming.
One by one the shadows on the wall disappeared only to reappear a few moments later. He heard a voice, but it sounded like he was underwater. The voice was so thick and indistinct. Trafalgar aimed his 1911 at the door.
"BSAA!" came the voice, clearly.
Trafalgar waited and a man in woodland camo with the BSAA patch on his arm came inside.
"I found him!" he called out as he stepped inside and pulled a medkit from his his pack. "Hey buddy, stay awake, alright? Help is here. My name is Ark Thompson. Can you hear me?"
The man named Thompson put Trafalgar's hand on a scanner.
"Code...phrase...?" muttered Trafalgar.
"Fox Hunt," said Thompson. "The retrieval code is Fox Hunt."
"David Trafalgar, BSAA North American Branch."
"Confirmed," nodded Thompson as he injected Trafalgar with a serum. "You'll be fine. We're going to get you out of here."
Another man came into the shed and helped Thompson pick up Trafalgar and take him outside to a stretcher. Soon he could feel the wind whipping by him as they flew away. Win by Hail Mary.
Time to hit the showers.
The End
