Nakamura kept moving, slipping through the hallways like he owned the place. He didn't bother looking back. If someone caught up to him, that was their problem, not his. When the gunshots started, he ducked into a recessed corner behind a metal cabinet. No hesitation. He crouched low and waited, ears tuned to the gunshots somewhere nearby. Let them duke it out, he thought. Whoever was shooting at who? None of his damn business. They could all kill each other for all he cared. Less bodies to navigate around on his way out.
Once the shouting faded and the shots fell quiet, Nakamura unfolded himself from his hiding spot and kept going. His legs burned from staying low, but there wasn't time to care about that either. The ground floor was his goal now—or so he assumed. Not like anyone had handed him a map of this hellhole before locking it down. He figured if he just kept descending, he'd eventually hit an exit or die trying. Either way worked for him.
