"Move." The only word spoken by Bishop as he rolled down the drivers' side window in his armored van and pointed a shotgun out the window. He'd parked the van so that is was a broad target facing outward into the rest of the cul de sac, in the process providing cover for the exiting passengers advancing on the textile plant, which Bishop had parked immediately in front of. As soon as he propped the barrel of his gun on the open window, the Rampage opened fire on the bullet-proof van. Bishop kept his head down and fired buckshot at any and all moving targets in his sights, spraying as much lead into the environment as possible and covering his employees' assault on the textile plant.

Twenty men armed with pistols moved slowly towards Bishop, five more with submachineguns. The van was shaking as a hail of bullets collided with the side. Bullets entered through the open window and exited through the other, crashing into the textile factory's front wall beyond. Bishop needed to hold his position and cover his employees as they cleared the lower floor of the factory before he could move in. With his free hand, he reached for his walkie-talkie. "Status report."

"Moving in." Michael replied, brandishing an M16 assault rifle he had taken from the van's armory before kicking down the door. As predicted, the Rampage were waiting, and opened fire on the empty doorway immediately. The noise created by their gunfire and the confusion created by a lack of a body at the doorway was enough to distract them as Kiro fired two well-placed shots through the front window, eliminating two of the Rampage and breaking the glass, allowing entry. As the thugs turned their attention to Kiro as he entered the window, Michael entered through the bullet-riddled doorway and opened fire on the thugs within, diverting their attention once more as any Rampage not killed by Keller were ended by Kiro, who came swiftly through the window, stabbing and slashing any who stood in his way with his Katana. "Clear." Kiro notified Bishop over his walkie-talkie.

At this, Bishop fired whatever rounds were left in his gun into the oncoming mass of armed thugs, crawling on his stomach over the van's center console and opening the passenger side door. On his feet again, he rushed for the textile plant, narrowly avoiding another hail of gunfire as he reached cover behind the plant's brick walls. "Keller, watch the entrance, Kiro, on me." Michael gave a silent nod as Bishop tossed him a hand grenade and motioned for Kiro to follow him.

As they rounded the stairs, a lone Rampage member who had fled the massacre on the lower level waited in ambush, opening fire on Bishop in particular with an Uzi. As Bishop began to fall backwards down the stairs, he fired a single shot in desperation, the relatively close sawed-off shotgun blast hitting the thug's left leg, reducing it to a mess of splintered bone and shredded flesh. As he fell to the ground, screaming and holding his ruined leg in a futile attempt to tend to his gruesome injury, Kiro took a step forward and thrust his sword through the thug's throat, staring directly into the thug's eyes as his screams were replaced with pained chokes and gargles as his lungs filled with his own blood. Within moments, the thug was dead, and Kiro turned to tend to Bishop, who, to Kiro's surprise, was standing. As he proceeded back up the stairs, the shifts in his olive-colored jacket revealed he had been wearing a kevlar vest, greatly reducing the bullets' power for penetration and dispersing a good amount of the kinetic energy throughout the garment. The multiple, repeated impacts, however, had broken ribs, and the fall down the stairs broken fingers. Inconvenient and uncomfortable, but survivable. Bishop was still well enough to finish the job. Bishop and Kiro proceeded up the stairs.

They had reached the third floor. CJ Knight's office was straight ahead. The sounds of gunfire could be heard below as corrupt cop Michael Keller defended the textile plant's entrance, the building shaking as he detonated the hand grenade given to him by Bishop. He used this momentary pause in the battle to his advantage. Juggling his walkie-talkie with a new clip, he alerted Bishop and Kiro to his situation. "Too many of 'em, they just don't stop. I think they're getting gear from the van, I dunno how long I'm gonna last here." Michael waited on a reply, but got none. This was, in reality, due to the pair's attempts to remain quiet this close to their target, but Michael feared the worst. He'd heard gunfire above him not long ago. With that thought, Michael leaned around the corner he was taking over on, firing aimlessly into the doorway the Rampage entered through. "You sons of b*tches are going to get me one hell of a promotion!" He laughed through clenched teeth as thugs fell to the ground, anger turning to shock as they realized that they had been shot. Michael began to feel a sharp pain in his abdomen, followed by another in his shoulder, but simply ignored the pain as he left cover completely with his gun at his hip, avoiding staggering back as much as he could. As blood began to pool in his mouth, he continued to laugh and scream angrily through his teeth, staining both them and his greying beard red as the thugs took cover. "This is one crazy mothaf*cker!" Was a common comment on Michael Keller's psyche. The corrupt cop had never been known for his mental stability, but what he was attempting today was no different from suicide. The sharp pain dulled, following his slowing pulse as his vision darkened around the edges. The ringing in his ears grew progressively louder as he began to realize his war cry had ended. He was still now, staring blankly at the doorway with his rifle hanging from his hand as the red stains on his clothes growing larger. Blood was beginning to pool in his shoes as a thug peeked out of cover, only for Michael to attempt to raise his weapon with a single hand, firing off a few inaccurate shots as he staggered backwards, eventually tripping on the stairs as he did. The Rampage moved in, weapons at their sides, approaching the fallen Michael, who no longer had the strength to reach his weapon. Every breath was an effort, the back of his throat pooling with blood, spewing out as the air left his lungs.

"Take his gun, this fool's dead."