Go for your gear

You've got a spare magazine for your pistol in your pants, something Eddie obviously hadn't looked for when he chased after you.

Sprinting for all you're worth, you race to Eddie's office, shouts accompanying you as at least one of them spots your backside, jiggling gloriously as you sprint around the corner, into the hallway. As you go, you glance back, and see at least four men giving pursuit. A couple of bullets thud into the wall over your shoulder, but you're alive, for the moment.

Moments later, you're in Eddie's office, the door shutting with a satisfying thud, the lock making an even more satisfying click as it engages. Leaning the sledgehammer against the desk, you reach for your pants, hands frantically digging through pockets until you find the spare magazine. Dropping the spent one from your pistol, you slide the new one in, and rack the slide. You pause for the briefest of moments, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat glistening over your skin, and just breathe, feeling the stinging pain in your bare soles, and the burn of lactic acid in the muscles of your legs.

You've got no idea how long you have until the men are knocking on your door, but if you're going to face them, you're going to do so dressed. You set your pistol on Eddie's desk, quickly undoing the knots holding the apron. It slides off you, pooling at your feet, and you reach for your pants again, when there's a sudden shout outside your door, as well a couple more gunshots.

"Open up, bitch! We know you're in there! The hallway's a dead end. You can surrender, and come out unarmed, with your hands up, or we can come in and get you! Make your decision quick, or we'll kick the damned door in!"

He's right. You're trapped at the end of the hallway, or are you? Your eyes rapidly scan the room, spotting an air vent over the far wall of the room. It's big enough for you to squeeze through, but you're not sure your pack will fit. Glancing at your pistol and sledgehammer, you contemplate simply standing your ground. The odds are against you, but there's always a chance. You could just surrender, too, and wait for a better opportunity to escape. You cast a longing glance at your clothes, your hand tightening around the waistband of your jeans as you scan the room. Being clothed again would feel great, but do you have the time?