Pull the trigger first.
I sprint across the road, feeling bullets whiz past my face, and dive facefirst into the ditch on the other side. I spit out the mouthful of gravel I get for my trouble and start crawling forward, pausing in terrified silence every few seconds.
I hear my friends curse, scream, die in my earpiece. We’re getting mopped up. I’ve been more careful than most to still be alive, but I’ll soon be the only one left and they’ll find me. I’ve taken out a few… not nearly enough.
I reach the end of the ditch and slowly peek above the edge, aiming down my sights. I see nothing but the backs of my enemies, posted up on raised ground, taking potshots at my surviving compatriots. My finger trembles on the trigger as I try to figure a way to wipe them all out before they react… I expect one to turn around any second and ventilate me.
I hear the footsteps too late. My corpse falls to the ground, knife in my back.
“FUCK that!” I scream into my headset. The controller hurtles into the wall and I storm out to find a snack.