The Last Order

03:12 AM
Rain pounds against the windshield of the tactical vehicle as the building across from Sierra Team remains motionless, barely illuminated by blue and red reflections streaming through the windows. Forty minutes ago, the first possible hostage call came in; the second described someone acting strangely. After that… silence.
On your lap rests a tablet with a partial plan of the building. There are no internal cameras, just a main entrance, rear access, and central stairs. Enough to get in, but not enough to understand what's going on inside.
One of the operators zooms in on the scene without taking his eyes off the screen and remarks that if anyone is still alive, they'll still have time to get there. Another adjusts his helmet and looks toward the fourth floor before replying that they might be arriving just as it's all over. No one continues the conversation.
All that remains is the constant sound of rain mingling with the low hum of the running equipment and the occasional tapping of someone adjusting gloves inside the vehicle.
Then it happens.
A curtain moves, not much, just enough.
For a moment, a silhouette appears behind the fourth-floor window. It doesn't knock, it doesn't signal, it just remains still, too still… as if it had been watching since before you arrived, and then it disappears.
The radio is activated with a short click.
Team Sierra, let's do the job cleanly, quietly, and in order. We all want to breathe another day, and everyone needs to get home to their families. We're a team, so let's get this done before my hands freeze.
Inside the vehicle, nobody moves, not because they don't know what to do, but because they all expect exactly the same thing: your first order.
Enter.
Notice.
Talk.
Wait.
Or do something that no one has thought of yet.
What order do you give?