act32side

Conchetumare! Did everyone go deaf today?!

Sir... Have you known about the explosives in the art gallery... this entire time?

It was news to me too! Just give me your report, now! We have ways of dealing with the explosives!

There's nothing to report.

WHAT?!

If I had to say something... it'd be that the only staircase going down is completely sealed off. Over.

The soldier slams the communicator into the ground in a fit of rage.

No one is taking orders from el Capitán anymore, so you'll get us out of here, right? You must know the way out?

You've got it wrong. I'm going upstairs to save a life, not running for my own.

Drop the act already! There's no way you're fooling all of us. You must know the way out!

The leader's words become more and more jumbled, but the routed soldiers start to understand, one after another.

Laying the GRZMOT mines, getting out of the blast zone, then swiftly coursing her way out before the soldiers can act. Ela has planned it all out in her head.

Her actions might invite another group of pursuers, but there is no other option. With each second she wastes here, Diaz's peril continues to grow–

Grenade out! Brace for impact!

At almost the same instant the order leaves her lips, Ela leaps and vaults over the stair handrails.

Just on the other side of the ignored wall, a grenade soars through the air and finds a place to lodge itself, ripping apart the surface.

The soldiers, their attention drawn away by Ela, do not notice the wall behind them until they are bowled over by a surge of shattered bricks, sweltering heat, and shockwave.

Before they can turn their weapons to the gaping hole in the wall, or even stand, the well-trained squad has already rushed in under the cover of their ballistic shields.

Go, go, go!

Laying suppressive fire!

Hostile down!

Stragglers at three o'clock!

Hostile down! One more below us! Watch for friendly fire!

Clear.

Good work.

Ela, are you alright?

Cohen, Tina, Kötz, Alexsandr...

See, I told you Ela would be inside. We couldn't have come at a better time.

Ugh, looks like we have a good number of stragglers on our tail outside the stairwell... How's the situation on your end?

I was just on my way to the roof to free the hostage. Explosives go off at ten o'clock.

Where are the others?

The smaller explosion before sealed off the only staircase.

Understood. We'll trace your steps after we finish off the hostiles pursuing us.

Hey... Thank you all so much, really.

Words aren't enough.

To be honest, Diaz, I was rather fond of what you people were doing in the street art community.

And you think now is the time to bring that up?

If not now, when? Which side would you take on the subject of explosives?

You've lost your mind.

I'm being serious. You've got some good stuff over there.

Are you not afraid of death at all?

I've already fulfilled my life's calling. What is there to be afraid of?

Then again, you seem pretty composed yourself. At least, nothing like that lily-white captain over there. Why is that?

I found a place where I truly belonged, and lived out a long enough life there.

If I manage to survive this mess the two of you joined hands to make, I'd like to see my community rise again from the ashes. If not, all I can say is, too bad.

You have that much confidence... in the street artists?

Simple answer. They're my family, and I know them well. As long as we're together, anything is possible.

What, do you not have any people like that around you?

I did... But when we were together, we only ever did what I wanted...

Mateo, your people should've told you what you need to know on the phone, so you should understand the situation.

Hurry up and let me disarm the node. At least that way, neither of us has to die.

Not going to happen, old man.

Mateo turns to Reynell, who is leaning to the side, a somewhat twisted expression on his face as he grabs a golf club.

Reynell, you wouldn't want your carefully-crafted fireworks show to go to waste, right?

(*takes a deep breath*)

We'll make a two-in-one deal. You promise me that you'll blow this place to bits at the scheduled time, and I'll let you and the old man over there hold onto your lives.

I know you're the only person who can access the elevator in your office. Nobody else, not even Miłosz.

Now, all you need to do is give me the elevator key and let me go down, and I'll let you and the old man leave. Considering...

Mateo glances at the clock above his head. It reads 9:50.

...we have plenty of time.

Don't go quiet on me now. You two were so chatty a minute ago?

Reynell blinks a few times.

You really want me to say what I think?

Of course.

Mateo, do you know my greatest fear? What I'm most worried about here?

The elevator key, now––

My greatest fear... is that the filthy blood flowing out of your corpse could seep into the rubble and pollute all the art.

Shut up! And give me the key!

Mateo, stop! What are you doing?!

Don't move, or I'll mess you up too.

Urk... *cough*, *cough*!

It's fine, Diaz... Let this sad little man, *cough*, blow off some steam.

The key! Don't make me say it again!

You know, Mateo. I just thought of the perfect analogy.

I didn't ask, you–

You're like a bloated burdenbeast that has broken into a solemn memorial hall, stinking up the whole place without a care in the world, so proud of yourself as you watch everyone cover their mouths and noses with their handkerchiefs.

You feel like you're the one in control, since they're all acting that way because of you.

Just like right now. You think that as long as you offer me a deal, I'll give in to your coercion because I'm desperate to escape. You think that old Diaz and I will watch you disappear down the elevator, and despair as we struggle to get downstairs. Isn't that right?

Unfortunately, at the end of the day, a burdenbeast is nothing more than a domesticated animal.

I said, shut up–

If you're in that much of a hurry to make it downstairs, I'd suggest jumping down the elevator shaft–

SHUT UP!

In a fit of rage, Mateo strikes Reynell with a heavy blow to the back.

Diaz, his hands still bound, tries to rush up to Mateo, but is kicked away.

Don't get too excited... The two of you can settle down...

After all, we're going to become monuments to Galería Krysztauowa in a few short minutes.

I SAID SHUT UP!!

Mateo lifts the golf club in his hand high up into the air again, this time taking aim at the back of Reynell's head.

Frag grenade out!

Throwing flashbang!

Who's that?!

For a moment, a loud boom and a blinding light fill the spacious balcony.

After the dizziness and tinnitus gradually fade away, the people on the balcony see a woman – furious, yet nevertheless silent – step out from behind the wall.

There once was a painting there, now replaced only by the smoldering remnants of a frame.

The canvas, blasted to pieces, swirls around the woman as if her silent rage had converged into a firestorm.

Successfully broken through to the balcony on the top level of the art gallery.

Three individuals on the balcony: Diaz González, Reynell Kowalski, and...

...a sad little clown.

Everyone, cover me. This will be our final mission.