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Knocking will not help here, Aught realises. No amount of affable demeanour will be of much use either - the receptionist (and probably the proprietor?) is sprawled on the ground in a tangle of her own papers, the victim of some sort of assault. She reaches for the slide on the inside of the window, to pull it, but she's too laid out on the floor to reach.
Inks gets the first aid kit from the car. Holiday gives a brief nod to Etch, stubs out his cigarette and rolls his shoulders. Then in one fluid move he's four steps inside the reception, lean looking smg unslung and posture crouched. Does a textbook pie slicing. So good its almost a shame no one but Etch sees it.
Etch follows in, as Aclepius finishes informing everyone that the geese weren't really used as guardians for their fearsome prowess in combat. They're herbivores, mostly, so their fearsome beaks aren't quite and thoug they're aggressive they shouldn't be much against tear-resistant suit fabric with tactical lining and the odd vital pad insert.
The wounded goose, deciding to argue its own case, punches sixty iron teeth clean through Etch's pantsleg and tears into his leg. He shakes it off with a yelp, and in the bright light of Carlen's flashlight the inside of that blackfeathered gooses maw is nothing but a row of sharp, shiny iron teeth.
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>. . .
