Normand moves quickly to the door, Pyotr close behind, as Kat again cuts loose with the MAT-49. As Pyotr and Nedjar look on, the Frenchman knocks the glass from the frame to create an opening – the shards cascade to the floor in glittering pieces.
The legionnaires can barely make out a desk and some other furnishings in the faint light from outside – doors at each end of the room are dark patches against the gray walls.
In the garden across the alley, Marcel hears a small noise above the sergent’s submachine gun and the barking of the dog – the old woman, on hands and knees, peeks out of the screen door at the back of the house. “What are you doing?” she calls, her eyes wide, her voice quavering. “What is happening?”