The significant drawback to unleashing a stochastic, highly disorganized virus upon ROMAC's systems is, of course, the subsequent lack of a working elevator. Plunging down the stairs stirs the distant memory of being hauled up them in a set of circumstances that will, ideally, not be repeated. For anyone's sake.

The cold gray backdrop of the lower levels induces a low, inescapable chill that solidifies along the column of his spine. His fingernails have sunk into his palms, his neck taut, the slope of his shoulders rigid. He knows they are close. Fring is expecting them - expecting Asadi. He will doubtless not have anticipated involvement from the man he's presumed to have left thoroughly broken.

The alarms send subtle vibrations shrilling through the air, buried in the walls and ceiling and rumbling the floor beneath their feet. They tear down the stairs and into the hall and enter directly between a pair of unfortunate security personnel.

Rush's reaction is immediate, savage, and wordless. He throws himself gracelessly at the guard immediately beside him, bringing them both to the ground with a dull thud before the man even has his sidearm half-drawn. The full unintentional force of Rush's elbow crashes over the guard's larynx, and without hesitation he throws the remainder of his weight on it until he hears the wet crack.