60 seconds remaining. Score: 3-4.
There was only one chance left for RED to salvage a stalemate, and their Runner knew this all too well. His objective, the briefcase located deep in the bowels of BLU's base, lay in wait some 40 seconds away. His team had been pushed back by a well timed superburst, and were now scrambling into defense. It seemed that the Runner was on his own to traverse the well and hopefully save face for the team.
Well, almost. An Infiltrator, recently spawned, scoffed as he changed his cigarette. He seemed eager to support the Runner for this final push, gesturing towards BLU's base, before cloaking and moving in.
There was no going back.
The Runner's legs never failed him - and they didn't now. Two close shaves with a Rifleman's line of sight shook him up enough to take the underpass - there was no reason to risk an ambush by respawning BLUs. Not when dignity was at stake. His heart pounding with every passing second, every brisk step, he advanced to the bridge.
The wretched beeping of an autogun. Not good.
He checked his watch - 10 seconds. Where was the Infiltrator?
A reassuring flurry of a knife, and a mechanical screech. Gunshots. A Constructor! The Runner sprang out of hiding, and fired at the source of the conflict. The Infiltrator had done what he could - even wounding the enemy inventor - but he could offer no more assistance, downed in the heat of battle.
The scattergun bullets struck true, burying the Constructor under its hail. The briefcase was now unguarded. Another glance - 1 second.
The Runner knew what to do. His heart was heavy - a teammate sacrificed themselves for him - and so, with one trembling hand...
If only he had noticed the mines deftly placed under his target.
BLU TEAM WINS