Robert Young - FIST
The car moved slowly, in Robert's opinion. He wished they could move faster, but attention was not something that they wanted to attract. Now, anyway. He still wished they could get this over with faster. Once they were in the middle of things, he would be longing for the relative comfort and security of the car ride. Either that, or he would be too occupied with getting the mission done, that he wouldn't have time to think about it. Either way... he tapped the gas pedal a bit harder. Arriving there a few seconds before the SB men arrived. He stepped out alone, FIST remaining in teh car while he talked to the SB leader.
"Everything okay?" He asked, looking at the FNB, Washington D.C. branch.
"You bet," The young man, hardly 25, answered, the zeal, excitement, and blood-thirst apparent in his eyes. The Shackled Brotherhood could be useful, like today, but Robert usually avoided using them. They took stuff to a whole new level, one that FIST tended to avoid. They weren't professionals: They were zealots. And zealots had little to do with what FIST did.
Robert nodded, masking all his feelings on the matter, nodding to the men in both cars. They all knew what they had to do. The men that would be going in with him, along with the guy on which the entire mission depended on, Mouse, gathered around him. He wasn't the kind of guy to give speeches and shit like that. So, quickly the SBs formed loosely around them, and they entered the bank, immediately drawing their weapons as soon as they came in.
Guards reacted, as guards usually did, and were immediately gunned down. Their IT guy had taken down the security systems minutes before, or so he hoped. He had disagreed to having such a withdrawn person in charge of their operations, but he had been overruled. And, until now, the guy hadn't let them down.
But that didn't mean that he wouldn't.
Robert ran his trained eye over the rest of the bank, where the SBs were successfully terrorizing all the people inside into submission. They were the distracting, and cannon fodder should they be needed. FIST was here for one reason, and one reason only.
Robert caught sight of a suited man with his back turned. Robert touched his shoulder lightly, and the suited man spun around, a cellphone in his hand, fear in his eyes. But more than fear.
As fast as he could, Robert drew his side arm, and he saw the man reaching into his coat, to the same end. He fell, a red spot on his forehead, blood spraying the wall behind him.
Okay, now they had to move fast. He pointed to Mouse, and started moving to where he knew, from the floorplans that they had studied in detail for the past week, the vault lay.