Natascha makes a small yelp as the box lands on her chest. "Yes, Yes, a lot of good this will do us, seeing as I can't even move my arms to work on it you stupid french govniuk!" Natascha says bluntly.
Natascha looks over at the bandaged girl. "Hey! Over there, come get me out of these restraints!" Natascha commands.
Jaqueline gives the small Russian a cursory glance, before slowly making her way into a standing position at the side of her bed.
Ponderously she shambles over to Natacscha's side. It's almost a pantomime of a more literal translation of her current undead state.
But as she nears three paces from the smaller female's gurney a cacophony of stainless steel restraints being pneumatically released fills the ears of the patients, followed by a heightened feeling of freedom. Not just physically bu mentally as well. Slowly but surely, a series of numerical and status displays fill their vision, each tailor made by their own subconscious and malleable by the subject's will alone.
(All player characters have gained a Heads Up Display, which contains readouts on vital signs, power levels, tactical advice, and a suite of data transfer programs that can share information from one player character to another.)
After taking a few moments to gather his bearings, Matruso devotes his attention to the pressure door at the far side of the room.
He kicks the reinforced glass, then stares through the transparent material and into the hallway beyond.
Moments later he ducks behind a medical locker near the right side of the threshold.
"Get ready, three guys. Big. Carrying what looks like one shotgun and two assault rifles."