Two minutes. That would be plenty of time. Genma puled out a kunai and translocated to where the trapped enemy lay against the wall, struggling against seals that held him bound. His eyes widened in terror when Genma appeared in front of him. Exhausted terror. Rina's trap held him fast, paralyzing all but heart and diaphragm, so the man couldn't shout, couldn't struggle, could do nothing but feel his chakra draining away with every passing second. He was dark-skinned, a native of Lightning Country's lowland, and his eyes were blood-shot and tinted even where they showed whites. His blood, when Genma slit his throat, was as red as any man's, flowing from a jugular as vulnerable as Genma's or Rina's.

He glanced at her, still busy with her trap. Safe to proceed? he signed. She nodded hesitantly. Safe enough, he guessed. They were nearing the exit. There was the Konoha jounin's body. He should have warned Rina, but it was too late now. At least he could take the man's tags back with him. He yanked the chain free without even looking at the name, stuffing the tags into the same pocket where he'd stashed the Kumo senbon.

Rina was just catching up to him when he stood. There was no battle sign for I'm sorry.

She looked stricken, and he wanted to comfort her, but there was another ominous crumble, the sound of stone falling. The bunker was weakened, starting to fail. If they waited it would be their crypt as well as the grave of Rina's partner and the Kumo corpses they were leaving behind. He grabbed for her wrist and pulled her after him.

Same way out as in, and just as blind and precarious. He jumped up, grabbing at nearly impossible hand-holds in the ductwork, and started climbing the vent shaft that would lead them to safety.