israel's security crew, surrounding a still-stunned sir ivy, waiting on the lift. one of the elevators approaches. the rest appear to be down.
the elevator arrives with a "ding!" mustache and his men wait for the doors to open. heavy black smoke begins to slowly seep through the cracks, rolling up and along the walls, unfurling finger-like across the ceiling. from within the elevator car itself, a pull engine sputters to a stall.
--mustache and his men, hands going to their rigs, shoulder and waist. a handcuffed ivy watches with them as the elevator doors open and a big plume of black smoke vacates the car, eerily cast light burns blood red within, infernal, hellish. now, another pull engine leaps to life from inside the car, this one gnarled and guttural, winding out. a chainsaw.
plaster and debris everywhere, sprinklers tripped, most of mustache's team shot, shredded or burnt to a crisp. pieces of building and bodies either waterlogged or fully ablaze. mustache and darwin play duck and cover, exchanging fire. jeeves, out of grenades, sledgehammer swinging, crushing wall studs, scattering remaining security team members.
darwin, looming over ivy, about to bring the sledge down squarely on his skull-- the elevator doors open in his periphery.  he looks over, sees sykes standing there, barely clothed, wet with blood, gun in her hand. and grins.