Dropstate

Maggie crawled through the air-duct, uncertain of where she was going, still moving as if with a purpose. Fiery red hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed in fatigues and sweating bullets.

"Damnation," she whispered under her breath. The gun in her hand ready for action. Stopped crawling when she heard voices filtering through the duct.

"Are you sure?" one said.

"Yeah, psychics picked up another presence about 10 minutes ago," the other said. "Be on alert for anything at all. Shoot first, ask questions later. They're prepping a seance just in case."

"What's going on exactly?" voice one questioned.

"Not sure," the other answered. "But they're paying us the bucks to shoot the shit out of whoever the fuck pentatrated the outer defenses."

Maggie began to crawl but much more slowly, inching her way closer to the screen. Saw a warehouse, tons of boxes and a few crates off to one side. She could also make out two men standing by a door. Strained to hear if there was anyone else in the warehouse section, but couldn't.

"Well, this is a good enough place to start with," she whispered. 

She positioned herself so that her feet were close to the screen, lying on her back. She drew the other gun from the holster and cocked it.

Both guards were startled when the screen fell from the ceiling. She dropped down to the floor 15 feet below, firing both guns as she fell. Bullets coughed from the weapons and hurled through time and space to find their marks.

Both men hit the floor at the same time as she landed.