Alan and Mike stood to either side of the door, weapons at the ready. Behind him, Loretta, Dave and Kelly waited to burst through the door behind them. As the point man, Gary reached for the doorknob--and yanked his hand away with a curse. "Goddammit! It's hot!"
Alan shook his head, smirking at Gary. He grabbed the doorknob and his eyes widened. He snatched his hand away, staring at the livid red burn on his palm and fingers. "What the fuck?"
Gary shook his own hand out, secretly pleased by seeing Alan burned too. Still, this was slowing them up. "Mike," he said, "use your passkey."
Mike grinned and slung the SMG he was carrying in order to draw the ginormous pistol he wore on his hip. It looked like something Hellboy would carry. Mike aimed it at the narrow slot between the door and the doorjamb right where the bolt would be. He glanced around, checking that everyone was ready.
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed concrete and metal space. The heavy shotgun-sized slug did its job, and blasted through the bolt. Mike pressed himself against the wall, holstering the pistol, to let everyone else swarm through the doorway as Gary flung it open.
Gary saw the crowd on the rooftop frozen into immobility by the sharp blast of the pistol, and the sight of six armored gunmen spilling into the night. He noticed one man lying on his side not far from the door, his left knee a bloody ruin. He'd caught the slug after it passed thru the door. He hadn't had time for the pain to hit him yet, but it would.
Just bad luck, Gary thought. But he was only the first. There was plenty of bad luck to go around tonight.