The Pathless on Paths---------Chapter VI part 3

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The company rushed into the room, Karrson crashed into a table and fell. Someone shoved a cabinet against the door with a screeching noise.
“Here. Get your ass up.” Someone offered to pulled Karrson up, presumably the owner of the voice that had called them in. Karrson took his hand with a word of thanks.
It was from a middle-aged fat black man in what Karrson presumed as Giavoni security uniforms, a gray overall with pockets in tactical locations and a Giavoni employee card clipped on the left breast. He had a kind wide face and a good-natured smile. He was unshaved and looked rather tired, and his uniform was covered with splatters of blood. He wielded a Benelli M4 shotgun in his other hand. “My name is Clark, a security guard here, figured you guys needed a bit of help, so I let you guys in.” The man introduced himself.