Reports from a Nuthouse

As Team Alpha break for the far end of the room, the remaining Black Oil rises from the floor with a loud, wet slithering noise, punctuated by the whip-cracks of tendrils slicing through the air, preparing to strike. Venkman, Ryan, and Krycek have bought them valuable time, but the Oil is already cutting off any hope of escape back to the hallway.

Zed reaches the inner door first and slams his hand against a control panel. Agonizing seconds pass as the damaged access control system tries to scan hist print.

Zed calls out, “Oracle, as soon as we’re in, I’ll need you to access subcontrol panel seven R delta. You’ll be able to—“

With a whoosh and a grinding noise the battered door to the command center slides back to reveal a room crammed with high-tech surveillance and monitoring stations.

Zed barks a command to follow him in, and rushes inside, clearing the way for the rest of the team to follow—-and then stops dead in his tracks.

“K! Should have known we’d find you--.”

Without a word, and with eyes hidden behind shades, Agent K looks up from a control panel and punches three buttons in quick succession.

--And a split-second later, seven high-velocity cannons drop from the ceiling, aimed directly at Team Alpha.

“K--!?”