Gregory P. Wong
It wasn't any fun anymore, Quik mused internally. Cannibal was a gibbering wreck, curled up in a fetal position. He barely responded when Bizzly tosses a heavy crate on him. Oh, well, game over.
He tapped in the words, and immediately there was the sound of dozens of hands slapping soft flesh. He looked up and saw that Cannibal was bouncing from one point to another, as though smacked around by invisible baseball bats.
Oh, well, time to finish this map.
Mao wondered why no one had come into market. No Ts, not CTs. Weird as...
And then a divot of cement was dug out of the wall near his head.
"Yaaah!" he yelped and dived behind the center kiosk.
"/Mao/, /is that fucking /you!?" Mao heard the familiar voice of Bob. "/I/'/ve got something for you/!"
He heard the sound of a knife being drawn.
Solza, Caboose, Nox, Rah, and Shafter rushed apartments, encountering only light resistance. Two CTs-one was a big one, looked like Pheermee-had tried to stop them, but Solza and Rah had gone past them easily. The ill-advised Pherbee was currently staining the fine wood floor.
Nox, in the lead, entered the final room before reaching the CT side of apartments. He slowed down, took a quick peek to the left. No one there. Piece of cake. He rushed out again, and he heard the others following. Time to get behind the CTs...
And then he heard gunshots.
Bob gasped as Mao's knife stab just barely missed, nicking his cheek. He slashed forward, and was rewarded with a grunt of pain as his knife bit deep in Mao's thigh.
Score for da Bob Long!
Unfortunately, Mao used the time he took digging his knife out of the terrorist's thigh to stab him in the shoulder. He grunted, and pushed Mao back with his free hand.
Mao stumbled backwards, and Bob arrowed his knife for Mao's face. Mao took that exact moment to duck, and his knife just barely missed shaving off a sliver from the terrorist's scalp.
"Oh, fuck you Bob," Mao snarled, and dove forward.
"I love you too, Mao," he said, and drove the knife deep into Mao's skull.
Anarath, Ast, Ace, Pootie, and Smoke moved through apartments, while Bizzly, Jmar, and Lost forked off from side and headed for center.
Billy, taking a shortcut through cellar, had his shield, of course, and the trusty Deagle. He ran down the cellar stairs, pistol out until he saw a T hiding behind some barrels. He nailed the bastard in the head.
"Go, go, go!" he yelled into his radio.
Churchill was nervous. The team that had rushed apartments had taken down at least two CTs.
And then there had been a hail of gunsfire, and the Ts in apartment had died. To make things worse, Mao had been the only one to head down into market, and he was dead, too.
So, two ways for CTs to come out, one scout. Fine, poontangs, be like that.
He shifted his aim towards apartments. Time to wait.
Dan didn't like the fact that only he and Church had stayed near the hostages. There were still a lot of CTs left. He toyed with his AK.
Footsteps near stairs! He unclipped a grenade from his belt and hurled it out the window. He was rewarded with an explosion and a cry of pain.
He popped out to the window and sent controlled bursts at the injured CTs below. He-
And then M4s blew his head off.
It was a bit ugly, but at least most of the team was still alive. Smoke was injured as fuck from Solza's dying shots, but he could finish the round. He eased out of the last apartment room. Wait, there was a CT with a scout over-!
Churchill worked wonders with his scout, and took down three of the CTs that had come barreling of apartment. Unfortunately, the numbers were simply against him, and a hail of gunfire took him down. The two CT survivors, Pootie and Ace, raced for the house.
Bizzly and Jmar-Lostboii had been killed by Dan-started to clamber up the boxes. They were quickly joined by Billy, who emerged from cellar
Jive, Tiger, Freeway, and Rhino, the last of the terrorists, heard the fierce gunfight near house. They reversed their charge down long hall and dashed back towards the hostages. Just as the Ts came back into their spawn, Bizzly made a charge for the door. His gun was out of position, and before he was able to level it at the Ts, he was perforated with bullets. The other CTs heard the reports of the guns and swung around the house to investigate, but the four terrorists had already gotten back into the house.
The CTs had the numerical advantage-five against four-but the house gave the Terrorists a distinct advantage against the assaulting Counter-Terrorists.
In the end, only Freeway survived, but the five Counter-Terrorists had been killed.
Freeway took off his ski mask and began to reload his AK. He looked over at the dejected hostages.
"Sorry boys," he said cheerfully.
He slipped out the half-spent magazine and began to jam in a new one. And then he noticed that there was a reflection of something blue on the shiny metal.
"The fuck..." he mumbled.
And then Bob stabbed him.