With unerring accuracy your weapon spins through the air and hits the clansman in the chest, knocking him flat on his back. He groans, but before he can recover enough strength to raise the alarm, Sergeant Haskell pounds up the steps, his combat blade held before him ready to strike. One swift stab to the heart and the clansman is silenced before he has a chance to alert his confederates on the bridge.
‘Well done, Cal. And you, too, Haskell,’ says Captain Frankland, as the team gathers at the entrance to the walkway and sets about disposing of the sentries. ‘If that punk had raised the alarm, we’d have had the whole of Mad Dog’s army down on us by now.’
You retrieve your close combat weapon, and, after the clansmen have been consigned to the Rio Grande, you check your equipment and follow the others as they hurry away from the walkway area.