"Well, that reminds me of a slaughterhouse, yep it's a little fresh," she reflects irritated. A grotesque sight these men's upper torsos and heads manifest in flesh shreds, but the legs and pelvic regions avoided any wound channels or bullet holes. Faces and heads disfigured and unidentifiable even possible by dental records. Scorching brass casings roll around ladening the cement roof top. The thunderous gunfire barrage alerts the two remaining men to back track, and seven additional mobster thugs join the execution party. One man lights up a Cuban cigar as the mob speeds down the hall toward the roof entrance. "This idiot traps themself on the rooftop, what a moron," the smoking man mocks. "A fat pay raise after cleaning up her bullet infested corpse," he adds greedy.

This woman stands to the left of the door aiming her Custom Silenced Stainless-Steel Beretta 92FS Inox 9mm Pistol towards the door well. She aims her Ingram MAC 10 Machine Pistol in the small stairway vent. "Ugh, a guard gags, almost spewing chunks on the floor. "You must be a newbie," a veteran guard laughed. The reality is three torn up mangled carcasses demoralize all the men on sight, but some men greater than others. Knees tremble as uncertainty plants itself in the men minds. "How many men won't make it," one thug thought. "Idiots don't they realize, I can hear all their footsteps and know the exact moments to fire at them. "Paid to be a foolish corpse," she sighs in remorse. A careless thug rushes through the door by his bosses' orders, and he steps around the dead body in the door well. He receives a quick painless bullet through the ears splattering blood and brain matter on the door and cement. His lifeless body crumbles to the cold ground as blood erupts from the fresh holes in his head. Pulling the right-hand trigger, she unleashed thirty-three rounds demolishing all but one guard in the stair well through the vent shredding the soft aluminum to pieces. These guard's leader remains, yet this well-trained veteran and loyal protector alone facing a maniac. His heart rate and pulse rise while both hands quake and grow sweaty. This machine gun barrages' report creates a painful experience in both his ears and affects his visions focus for about three seconds. All 9mm 124 grain FMJ rounds reached supersonic speeds dealing many sonic booms along the bullets path, and his ears suffer from high decibels noise in a confined space.

Flesh and crimson rivers coat the stairs in a heinous sight, and the remaining guard fires his Norinco 77B 9mm Pistol four times at the now open shredded vent. The woman has already taken cover back behind the cement wall. "Stupid idiot he has five shots left," and I have ninety-four rounds remaining among my firearms. He tries to seize a MAC 10 Machine Pistol off another corpse while firing two cover rounds but finds a well-placed bullet in his right shoulder. "Damn bitch, she one hell of an agile shot, and ruthless as the Triads, no, beyond that level," he reflects in panic. With three rounds remaining, she hurls the empty MAC 10 Machine Pistol angled at the door, so it ricochets down the stair well. He fires valiantly at the doorway, but it's a fatal mistake her Custom Silenced Beretta 92FS Inox 9mm Pistol plants a 130 grain FMJ tungsten core APR bullet through his delicate windpipe. Blood erupts out of his mouth as he chokes, and his eye roll back into his head as this man crumbles dead to the hard cement floor. "Bullet through a vent in into his throat creating a ventilation tunnel, harsh irony!"

"Ah, the Swedish Fabio wielding an Steyr AUG A1 Bullpup Assault Rifle chamber in 5.56x45mm NATO rounds, yet time to face a world top assassin," Plum Eyes reflect intrigued. She returns to cover as she spots his reflection through glass laden on the bottom stairwell. This ruthless man's caution and divisive nature leads him to sweep through his victims as mere play toys.

His AUG Rifle barrel escapes past the entrance to the door well and utilizing the glass to find where his foe could retaliate from. "Given the level of carnage a brutal yet precise foe doesn't tread foolish against," he deliberates as tension build in his right trigger hand and left-side neck. A methodical spray of thirteen 5.56x45mm NATO Hollow Point rounds hammers the shredded open vent and the door area sweeping. This deafening stream of bullets and expanding brass fractures unrestrained against the cement walls. Another gun man working under the same boss appears from the downstairs office west side door. These two men know each other, yet it's two on one battle of gunmen. "What a wasteful barrage of 5.56x45mm Nato rounds, and this world class pain never bothered to study the Minji Export Plaza Building's floor plans either," Plum Eyes deliberates annoyed. "An armor piercing tungsten .50 BMG round proves even unable to punch through this dense reinforced steel concrete wall!"

He's playing with his foe, yet Plum Eyes back plants against the cement wall itching to turn and give him a sky light free of charge. "Playing with his opponent I see, and this shall be his undoing!" The Receptionist remains poised to finish off this interloper, but he reveals an enticement from battling this unknown player. "A foolish tactical approach if either fire inside the stairwell small area report will create deafening and distortion in the brains neurological system leading to a pounding headache, dizziness, or confusion from hefty noise agony." She retains composure and hurls a couple small stones through the vent safely, and they ricochet off the wall. He secures an Ingram Mac 10 Machine Pistol in his left hand while utilizing the Steyr AUG Rifle in his right dominant hand. Machine guns' fire burst out of three weapons from the two dubious assassins.

"Interesting another gunman to eliminate," Miss Plum Eyes reflects. This hellish barrage of 9x19mm and 5.56x45mm NATO rounds provides a crafty mind to neutralize her two foes. He unloads the remaining AUG Steyr Rifle magazine, and with a swift press of the magazine release swaps it effortless for a fresh magazine. The second gunman ascending the stairwell begins to suffer ear thrashing ringing from the fully automatic firearms report, and he reveals problem with his motor functions due to the insane noise disrupting his brain's neurological system. "Interesting one of them changes magazines, and the gunfire ceases," Plum Eyes grins for a split second. The Receptionist and other gunman appear to have Miss Plum Eyes back fused to the cement wall, and he realizes his partner appears immobilized for the deafening bullet reports. She eases the barrel area only through the doorway keeping her hand in a safe location, and the woman unleashes nine 9mm rounds halting the enemies climbing further up the stairwell. Suffering intense ear ringing this thug proves a whale flopping on a beach. Miss Plum Eyes returns with her back to the wall in her custom Sabrina stance. A harsh mistake the Receptionist makes saying, "hold-off," to the other assassin suffering from ear ringing, and he proves unable to hear the command. She gathers he possesses a grenade given his brutal tactics and encounters.

"These shit heads remain clueless I'm not a paid assassin, I'm far worse," she deliberates! "My twin Custom Silenced Beretta 92FS Inox requires a cleaning and parts inspection, time to end this little skirmish!" Plum Eyes reveals a C-4 detonator in her right hand, and she presses the trigger exploding the two small packages of C-4. Small copper and steel piping with ceiling tiles and debris crash smothering the Receptionist in the doorway and man climbing the stairwell. They fight to hurl the debris off while returning to safe measures while suffering ear ring trauma from the explosion's noise in a confined area.

She manifests as shadow firing her trusty Custom Silenced Beretta 92FS Inox 9mm Pistol through the vent. Plum Eyes impales a round through the Receptionist left shoulder forcing him to drop the Ingram Mac 10 Machine Pistol, yet he exposed only his left arm and shoulder area through the door well preventing a lethal wound. She dead aims exterminating the other male enemy nimble with two direct rounds through right shoulder and left side of the skull plastering his blood over the dust covered bodies laden stairwell and floor.

"Dammit this foe proves exceptional in strategy and cunning ensnaring us up for a trip to the netherworld," the Receptionist sighs struggling to squeeze his left hand closed. Strength depletes from a tremendous bullet wound's damage to his left shoulder. "Fuck," he roars. He's impeded to launch grenades towards me without exposing his body to my fatal bullet assault, and this intense shoulder trauma shall prove fatal without proper treatment," she deliberates aloof. A single 9x19mm Parabellum 130 grain +P+ tungsten APR bullet shatters the left-side lesser tubercle bone, yet it renders his left arm as dead weight.

The Receptionist retreats eluding an impossible firefight, and he reveals a level of cowardice for the first time in thirteen years. "Damn, such a methodical opponent entrapping me, the top of the food chain in assassins with nil effort, and this devious foe forces my hand creating a scenario, I shall not win!" Panic and wrath manifest to the surface in the Receptionist anguished mind, yet his resume appears tarnished by this horrific outcome. "Return to battle another time, but exceptional planning will end this worthy and agonizing foe," he reflects in anguish. The Receptionist demoralized and humbled by an assassin with skills superior to his own honed advanced abilities.

Aquamarine Eyes emerges cautious partial from the open stairwell; Plum Eyes navigated to reach the 49th Floor. "Great, that vile assassin," she aims her Mossberg Slide Action 1300 Defender at the Receptionist hasty firing a 12-gauge buckshot into his left lower bicep and elbow area. The wound staggers him off balance, and he counter sweeps firing his Steyr AUG Assault Rifle horizontal. Hollow point bullets crash pelting the office north wall. A defying chorus rings in the three combatants' delicate ears. Aquamarine panic reflexes allowed her to return to cover behind the cement wall avoiding death, and his awkward recovery time allowed it to happen. He hits the floor behind sturdy chestnut desks, and crawls bleeding sluggish across the floor while trying to reload his magazine. The Onyx Eyed woman points her gun through the door only firing five shots blind in his direction with her Norinco 77B 9mm Pistol in right hand. The 115-grain 9x19mm jacketed hallow points (JHP) tear at the wooden desks. A swift magazine release and the spent AUG magazine hits the floor from less than a foot in height.