The fight on the athlete's side was indeed fierce, and the enemy got stuck at the top of the stairs.
The usec guarding the stairway door on the third floor was a thief. He only used a spray gun and fired it. He shot it once and then took it back. Then he shot it again and then took it back.
The athlete wanted to throw a thunderbolt but couldn't throw it away. He wanted to shoot but couldn't hit the guy.
It’s so uncomfortable to be stuck!
He was so angry that he wanted to rush forward, but his rational mind told him that he must not do this. The sprays at close range covered a large area of damage, and the danger of rushing forward was too high.
The athlete can only stay under the stairs and wait for the lunatic troll above to finish his bullets.
"Don't worry about the third floor. Clear the second floor first. Athlete, you hold the stairs and don't let him come down. Skif, you hold the stairs at the other end." Ford gave the order.
These two instructions are very timely and of high value.
There are two staircases on the left and right sides of this building. If you can't rush up or rush in, you can simply stay where you are.
This way.
Usec personnel who have a defensive advantage will also have their offensive abilities curbed.
Then the three people who have rushed up from the stairs on the left and are attacking the second floor under the leadership of Ford can safely clear out the enemies on the second floor.
At this time, the usecs on the second floor had been chased all the way, and they were all gathered in the locker room.
The three Fords who came up from the stairs on the left were engaged in a fierce exchange of fire with the Usec group occupying the dressing room across the middle passage.
There are rows of lockers between the locker rooms, as well as rows of red brick walls used for separation. These have become the best bunkers for the combat squadron.
"Borz, prepare the grenades, I'll suppress the lockers in the distance."
After receiving the order from Captain Ford, Borz took out the grenade and pulled off the safety. He did not dare to expose his body, so he only stretched out his hand and swung it outward.
"Ah~"
The moment the grenade was thrown, Borz screamed in pain and retracted his hand as if he was electrocuted.
Although there were waves of heartbreaking pain in his wrist, Borz did not forget what to do, and shouted to remind: "The grenade has been thrown, throw it out."
This is not a warning to the people on the other side to take cover. The gunfire is so dense that the other side can't hear it.
Instead, it conveys instant information to teammates so that they can prepare in advance and receive subsequent output in time after the grenade explodes.
Borz was not in a good condition due to his injury. He grabbed his wrist and stepped back while shouting to free up the fighting space.
Everyone was crowded into the narrow stairwell and the corridor outside the locker room door, fighting the enemies inside, and the space for movement was very limited.
Retreating those who are low on ammunition or injured is the most basic operation.
"Borz is injured, athlete, don't go in, give us cover."
Ford promptly informed the athlete that according to the original plan, they had to rush in when the grenade exploded, and then asked Borz loudly: "How is the injury? Can you continue? Do you need my help?"
"No need, I'm fine, I can continue, you go fuck those stinky bitches."
The skin on Borz's face was throbbing with pain, and the blood on his wrist was dripping down, but he didn't have any fear. He took out the first aid kit and started to bandage it himself.
A real man!
"Change the magazine!"
Just at this time, he heard the athlete's terminology of war. Ford didn't say any more words, patted Borz and rushed forward to take over the fire from the athlete.
"Dongdongdongdongdong..."
There is a spray gun on the usec opposite, which is very obvious in the sound of rifle fire.
It's all so shocking that it makes people's hearts tremble.
Just now, Borz only had time to throw the grenade. In less than 0.5 seconds, his whole hand was exposed, and a big hole was made in his wrist. It was done by this spray gun.
Fighting at close quarters in such narrow terrain, the trolls are truly unparalleled.
"Voron, my fucking place is going to be crushed, and I need your help! Voron, damn, call me right now."
The athlete took a step back and started to output violently while changing channels.
How bad his mood is now shows how urgent he is in his heart at this moment, hoping to get assistance from sniper fire.
Unfortunately, Voron had the right time, place, and people, so he received a box lunch at the beginning.
The body is almost cold by now!
"No, we can't continue like this. We don't have enough firepower here."
Ford felt that procrastinating like this was not the answer, and he also guessed that the snipers were probably gone, and if he wanted to break through, he would have to increase his manpower.
So after emptying a magazine and retreating, while waiting for the athlete to replenish it, he called out while changing the magazine: "skif, this is Ford, I need your help here, speed, please answer if you hear me."
"Okay, received. I'll be right over."
skif pressed the headset to reply, stood up with the gun in hand and prepared to rush over.
"etc."
The demon stopped Skif and said: "Skif, I'll shoot them all, fuck him bastard, this bone is really hard to chew, leave some bullets for me."
Demon, who had fully recovered from the pain of being shot, did not just hold on to the stairs, but kept trying to break in.
pity.
What he faced was not a shrimp and a crab general, but an elite PMC who was equally proficient in combat.
When the opponent has already occupied a favorable position, it is almost unrealistic to fight alone without the help of heavy firepower and foreign aid.
Therefore, after the demon attacked for a long time, they still ran out of bullets and grenades, and there was no gain at all.
"I'll give you half, that's all I have."
skif took out a magazine and a grenade, threw them to the demon in the air, and ran down the stairs without pausing for a second.
"Sukabret,"
The demon was very dissatisfied with this amount of ammunition, and had no choice but to use foul language.
Yesterday, too much ammunition was consumed in the two battles. Without backup supplies, the remaining ammunition was stretched thin. This was a desperate battle.
demon knows...
Skif can even give him a magazine, which is the maximum limit.
I took out the empty magazine from the AK102 and replaced it with the last remaining full magazine. The demon didn't dare to charge anymore, so I had no choice but to find a place to squat.
Guarding this staircase and preventing usec from going up or down is the maximum limit of his magazine.
"Where are all the usecs outside? Why can't I see any of them?"
skif ran down the stairs and ran along the first floor to the opposite stairs. On the way, he looked around vigilantly on both sides, thinking that he would find usec's attack.
】
As a result, he ran all the way to the other end of the stairs without being hit by a bullet along the way.
This made him very confused!
But the constant shouting, gunshots and explosions coming from upstairs forced him to put aside his curiosity and rush up to provide support.
At this time, the battle on the second floor was fierce and chaotic, entering a fierce stage.
As soon as the skif came on, my ears were filled with all kinds of sounds.
"We're going to run out of ammunition soon. We're going to run out of ammunition. Who can give me some?"
"Throw a grenade into the fifth locker on the left. That bitch is hiding behind it."
"I've got the grenades ready, hold him down, hold him down and give me space."