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Meltdown

You can almost see the hair on the guard’s neck. The sweat drips from his beret, drips from the rusting pipes above. Step closer Soap, run your hand past the metal walls expanding like custard tarts in an oven. Ignore the heatwave- you can’t afford to screw this up.

You realize the pistol’s gone from your slippery fingers- a second before it collides with the ground with a click.

Go loud, Soap!

Bullets ricochet off the dials and switches as you kick the guard’s legs from beneath him. The room’s misting badly, you’re smothered in heat and sweat. Focus- the guard’s turning to get up. You fall on him, sliding, trying to get a grip to pull him under the surface.

The deck above shakes with footsteps just as you slam his head against the floor. Not a good day to be Delta, my friend.

Left- use the walls to guide you. Down the corridor now. The door handle- get a grip on the dang handle. They’re catching up-

Turn, again! You burst into the control room as the world explodes in a fusillade of sparks.

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