And I clamp down on the trigger, a long stuttering burst right through the door. In the telecom screen I see the biff leader take most of the burst in her upper chest and throat, and down she goes spouting blood. I walk the burst into the others—tougher than it sounds when your point of view is different from the direction in which your gun’s pointing. Something like trying to write while you’re looking in a mirror. One slag triggers his own SMG and I instinctively drop to a crouch, his burst stitches the already-dead-or-close-to-it leader, then he’s down. The second man’s also going down—not dead, not yet—with a lot of his face missing. I cap off another short burst aimed lower, and see the mage’s head deform under multiple bullet impacts. I drop the telecom, scuttle forward still in my crouch—Do they have support? If so I’ll know in a moment—and kick open what’s left of the door.