And we continue.
She brushes her fingers lightly over the material under his shirt. Polyethylene, her old friend. She tears the bullet proof vest from the torso, begins to put it on then thinks better of it. Instead, she wads it under her arm and adventures back out into the hallway, padding soundlessly back to the goon in waiting. Judging by the steady, regular breaths beyond her view, he is calm and at the ready about two paces back from the edge of the wall.
The best things are done blind.
She hides her face and upper torso behind the armor as she swings into full view and shoots. A heavy thud and silence signals she has judged his height well. She slowly lowers the vest and inspects her work. Caught him in the chin. There are worse ways to die.