<strong>Tagged</strong>: Aurora, Wiggy<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Garage, Corridor, Roof<br/><hr/><br/>Alex was fuming with rage, confusion and irritation for not getting what he wanted. He strolled passed the females, shirt in tatters and a few gashes on his back and chest that would suggest a fight with a horde of kittens. He slammed open the cabinet, revealing a few pistols, rifles and a couple of boxes of ammo. Their handler kept them all on a regular training schedule, shooting at empty beer cans every uneven months. Alex knew he wasn’t a top marksmen, yet he had fired enough rounds to know where the bullet would roughly end up if you pulled the trigger.<br/><br/>“Bloody bandits.” He scowled as he grabbed two rifles and walked back to the others, throwing one to them, not caring who would catch it. “I’ll check it out from the roof. Tell Joy to occasionally swirl to the left and right. We might scare them off, and if lucky flatten them. One of you help me on the roof.” He barked, knowing he did not really know what he was doing, yet thinking it would  be best to do something. He made his way to one of the service ladders and began to climb upwards, the rifle held in his left hand. He had a few extra rounds in his back pocket, rinkeling every time he moved his right leg.<br/><br/>He turned open the wheel of the hatch and opened it, at once feeling the cold air that rushed in to meet up with him. He forced himself through it and climbed out, standing next to the hatch in a crouch. He moved to the side and noticed a small car, housing three bandits. He was about to open fire when he heard another set of engines on the other side. He crawled over to the other side and noticed a somewhat larger truck. The five people in there were arguing and slowly driving their vehicle closer. One of them apparently had brought a blow torch, something that would not get them through the thick steel frame in a hour, yet could damage their truck.<br/><br/>He had enough intellect to quickly call it through his earpiece before he shouldered the rifle, leaned forwards and squeezed the trigger.<br/>