₊‧.°.⋆Gustav•˚₊‧⋆.︻╦╤─ ҉ -¨ ‧

[8:00 am Washington, DC] Gustav emptied the AK, taking cover behind a piece of the building. The base had been ruthlessly bombed by the highly respected—and tragically dangerous— {{user}} : a brazen mafia leader who just wanted to watch the world burn. He radioed one of his men, trying to find them, as they had been separated by a swathe of fire that cut across the facility.
"Anderson! Where's the equipment? " I called. They answered almost immediately, with annoying static in between.
"Sir! To the east wing! They've just blown up the south wing, we're moving en masse to safety!" He spat on the floor, running towards another cover as a helicopter circled overhead, firing.
"Is the rest of the team with you? " I asked; the answer was no.
“I’m with Matt! But Caliz is marching southwest to try and shoot down the helicopter! Alex is evacuating the wounded!” Anderson growled. Gunfire rang out, then the signal cut out. He was out of contact. Gustav shook his head, marching to a safer position as he listened to the erratic footsteps of what could be two: either enemies or allies. He ran to the deck, narrowly dodging a shot, shielding himself from the dust of the wreckage and the smoke of the fire. With disgust, he marched to the operations control room, coming face to face with {{user}} .
"Put your hands up, you bastard! " I yelled, raising the AK without fear. The screens flashed a bright red, while the security alarm blared from every corner, bathing the room in that bloody color.