"Slowly," Sloan quipped, biting down on the tip of his straw with a quick grin.

Nadia had a point, though. On his way over, he'd stopped to buy a newspaper and see what was poppin', and what he seen had put him in a bad mood for almost an hour. The obituaries page was the size of a CEO's last will and testament, which didn't quite match up with the paper's crime blotter being so small that it could have passed for a CEO's tax filings. It was the first time the thought had crossed Sloan Negasi's mind that he'd been sent here to die. He'd been working on making it the last.

Progress was a little mixed right now.

Nadia probably had similar concerns; his Dagula training practically demanded that he notice the way she rubbed her neck, or the tone in her voice as she tossed around the mission parameters himself. What his Dagula training didn't drill into him was empathy and quiet confidence; to someone who had been thrown into this situation head-first and blindfolded just like the rest of them, hell, even Sloan would have appreciated a new friend.

"Hey, I'm sure nobody here is jonesing for anything too action movie-esque. Ain't what we trained for," he said, trying to compel himself to believe that held true for even people like Murphy and Suzumi. "The boss fooled us all with that barista trick, no matter what he's actin' like now, and even Marlowe's more mellow than I gave him credit for. If there's trouble, it's probably gonna wait until we all get to know each other first."

It was nice that she was able to talk to him better than he could to her. And even better that she was a cook. Or baker, rather. Ah, it would be so nice to walk into their home and smell a fresh cake or pie cooling on the counter. The thought made his stomach growl, which he then apologized for, though he took no time to look for anything to eat. It wasn't great to eat before a mission, why with all the running and jostling around. Made for one to be a bit too slow or, in some cases, get sick.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and said, "Well, I actually didn't have a tough childhood. Fairly normal, actually. Kids didn't like me, but that hardly counts as it being tough. Uh, well, as I'm sure you guessed, I like video games, though I am terrible at most of them. Hadn't had much leisure time lately." While he spoke, he had begun to prepare himself another pot of coffee, glad that at least one Starbucks in the world was able to produce it without a ton of fillers and creamers and fruity nonsense. "I've never understood the need for people to put so much junk in their coffee. Isn't milk and sugar enough?" he asked, lamenting over a silly thing.

"Anyways, as for the game, I could get some of my stuff mailed in once we get the warehouse. Xbox, computer, controllers, games. It would be good for us all to have something to do in our down time other than train. Blow off a bit of steam, get mad at each other, get beat up by the other assaults. Fun times all around!" He managed a grin, then took another draught of his coffee, nearly choking on it as scorched his tongue. If he'd been able to, he'd probably have sworn up a storm. As it was, he just set the mug on the table and covered his mouth, face red from the experience.

How am I already a third wheel? Deuce had to wonder as he watched his comrades team up with one another. It was a little amusing how easily everyone appeared to have drifted into pairs. It wasn't exactly something Deuce personally had a lot of experience with, his social skills only extended towards acquiring contacts, getting in a friendly conversation with a co-worker was something he had no experience with. That said the rest of his team didn't appear entirely incompetent, Aimee was a bit long winded but she didn't seem terrible per say. Although he had some doubts about the latecomer, the one by the name of Ellis, but he the man did style himself in attire fitting of Deuce's own ancestor, Philip Marlowe. Deuce was mildly intrigued to see how much he lived up to the hardboiled expectations set by forefather, for Deuce himself had already failed in the eyes of so many.

Before his mind had too much time to dwell on the past, Deuce found his thoughts interrupted by the German teammate Victor the "doctor." Apparently the man was also feeling like a third wheel, something that made Deuce chuckle a little. "I wouldn't discount yourself just quite yet buddy, the two of us will probably end up fighting over that title. Oh and just call me Deuce, it's nice to meet you Victor."

Of course Victor's introduction also reminded Deuce of his potential rudeness to the women sitting next to him, "My bad Miss Zech, I didn't even bother to greet you. But yeah the name's Deuce, nice to meet you as well."

"Now," Deuce leaned back in his chair, "What to talk about indeed. Should we be our own little band of three musketeers to avoid being third wheels?"

That was a terrible joke.

When Ellis mentioned his tough childhood, Nellie’s own memories started resurfacing. From a young age, Nellie knew why the others isolated her. She had long since accepted the fact that she would never be able to fit in. However, she didn’t mind too much – it wasn’t as if they were bullying her outright. Still, it would have been nice if one of her classmates had attempted to talk to her. Nellie quirked her eyebrow in thought. Maybe she should have tried a little harder to socialize. Ah, oh well.

She chuckled over Ellis’ remark about people dumping a bunch of stuff in their coffee. Nellie preferred to drink chamomile tea because it soothed and calmed her mind. Floral teas were her thing. Coffee was, in her opinion, way too strong and quite frankly, disgusting. The caffeine would keep you awake and functional for a day and after that, the body would be sucked into a never-ending spiral of unhealthy sleeping habits. Coffee is evil. "I don’t even know how you people can stand coffee,” she remarked, smiling. “It leaves such a strong after-taste.”

“You’ll have to teach us Assaults how to handle the controller. Oh, and…what’s an Xbo-“ She stopped talking when Ellis’s face twisted in pain after taking a drink of his hot coffee. When his face turned red and his hand covering his mouth, Nellie was in full-blown distress mode. Her hands started frantically moving up and down, unsure of what to do. Wait. Burns. Cold water. Ice? Ice. “El-Ellis! Your tongue, is it okay? Do you need some ice? Does this place even have ice? Where’s the ice?” Although she was flipping out, Nellie managed to somewhat keep her voice in a cool collected voice. The only thing betraying her emotions was her facial expression and a few high pitched words.

Nellie was no doctor like Victor, but she was pretty sure ice would do the trick. She went behind the counter, turning around multiple times as confusion and worry crossed her face. She had no idea where the ice could be.

People started to get cozy with one another and that set Aimee's mind at ease. She did not weird them out. Yet. But still, she fell into the vibe that seemed to get more and more chill as people gathered and sat with one another. That suited her just fine. It felt like any other place to connect with others and so with a smile upon her face, she did what she normally did in such a place.

She shut her mouth, opened her sketchbook and started to draw.

Then there was a knock, the door opening, and an new person joining them. Aimee narrowed her eyes at him as he intro'd himself and stepped away to make coffee. The narrowed eyed look continued to follow his every step until he sat down. She glanced at his expression as he drank his coffee and put the cup back down.

He was smoking!

Aimee wanted one too now.

She closed her sketchbook and tucked it and its pencil companion away into her pack and was about to get up to go outside-- hazel eyes popped wide.

He was smoking! ...inside.

Aimee stifled a small chuckle as she reached into her pack to grab a ciggie. She put the white cancer-stick to her mouth then out came her zippo to--

"Smoking will surely kill you," she heard the scolding tone in Nellie's voice as she spoke to the late-comer Butei.

--the cigarette went back into her pack. The Zippo went back into her pocket. A shade of warm guilty red hit her cheeks.

Now she really wanted a smoke.

But instead what she got was a fellow come on over and sit with her. She smiled politely and adjusted her red beret as he tossed his jacket over and promptly sat down. And as he spoke, she nodded in all the right spots, eyes never leaving his face all the while in her head, she wondered about his statement about growing up with 'letting a gun do its talking for you' or whatever he said earlier.

When he was done speaking she just kept nodding and staring at him.

“Thanks. And out here it's just Aimee. But you. If you want you can call me--”

~~~~


~~~~~

“--Miss Aces.” Aimee said, “I 'member ya, Baby Face. Gamma Team. We should have died over the Terminal Pass. But you didn't bail. You kept the drop team calm, right? What's a gun without the man behind it and all that, right? That's you, right? Yayuh...! Mama bird had ya. All o' yas. So whaddya say. Let's make you make you own mind up about them. Let's go meet 'em? Go team!”

Aimee stood up, reached out to grab Jacobs wrist and gave it a tug. She nodded at him then spun around now, black fluffy skirt chasing her quick motion. She bounced away a few steps then her chin lowered slightly and her hazel eyes dulled and darkened a bit.

“We should have died at Terminal Pass, Baby-Face... but hey, there's a reason we all made it out alive and now those of us at the Pass get on Div. Six together, right? We get to start all over again. Make it right.”

She gave him a nod then continued on, striped stockings and black kid boots walking her on over to a group of three others.

“Arryn.” Her eyes lightened up and brightened up to a lighter green than her often seen olive green hued eyes. A black nailed finger pointed unabashedly at the lavender headed lady as she sauntered on over. “ I called her Boom-Boom. She's that's the all-seeing, all-being, female fixer. Like, I know she snubbed you earlier when ya called her EOD. Yeah I heard that, but It's prolly cuz she's soooo more than that. Fo'sho!”

The pointing finger slid over and aimed at Victor.

“Dude with glasses. I call him Money. You probably know him as a med. But he is so much more than that. You a betting man, Baby-Face? Bet on Vic. He comes through,, He's instant Money, nom sayin', not playin' dragon-slayin' uh-huh!”

Dark eyebrows popped upward, and Aimee hesitated. “Yeah... that's the reason why I keep my mouth shut. I don't say things like other people. I have a weird brain, Baby-Face... but... whatever... just know when I get all quiet I don't hate you, 'kay?”

If Jacob had followed her over here, she would have grabbed at his wrist again and pulled him over to an open seat. She herself sat down in front of Jacob and right beside Victor, both hands smoothed out her skirt before clasping together on her lap. Then:.

“Third, wheel?? Wut...?” an affectionate slap on the arm she gave the glasses- wearing Dagula, “hey, Victor, no way, I'm letting you off that easy... hahahahah... Hey, Arryn. How ya been, girl? Hi, Deuce. Still got the Ninja? Oh! This guy here is Baby-Face, cuz... awww just look at that face, right? He's my boyfrieeeeeend.... hahahahah! No, not really. He's not lezzy enough... Yet. Hahahah! I'm just... oh! Hey, they have scones up in here right? Oooohh... and biscotti?! Who wants one? I'll buy! Whacha want, babies?”

Aimee put both hands to her mouth to stifle her laughter. This was the first time in a long time that she actually had a bunch of people together and felt comfortable enough to blabber away. There was more people here at this table than her last birthday party!

“Cuz you're in Mama bird's nest now, and you're under wing, softly singing, hey-hey, ain't no thing!”

At the counter she waved at Nellie as the Assault lady was rummaging through drawers and containers. “Hey, girl. After you find what you need, you should totally bring your hottie new boyfriend over and totally meet my hottie new boyfriend... hahahah...! Ummm. Or not... 'Kay. Later.”

After picking up some sweets and other goodies, she dropped a couple of bills on the counter and returned to hand out those sweets and other goodies. Whatever was not taken ended up piled up in the middle of their table.

Aimee would listen in to what the others had to say and prep herself to pipe in. This was the hard part for her; the balance of spouting off what was in her mind versus the context of the conversation at hand. But she knew that as soon as it became time to 'talk shop,' she would be able to settle her mind and focus in settle in on her role as needed.

A contented smile slipped across her small pink lips as she munched away at her biscotti. “Fo'sho.”

"It's always interesting to have you around, Aimee." Arryn replied with a strained smile. The barbed compliment aside, she really could not deny that the Logi was the best driver around. They were never going to have problems with vehicles or mobile support as long as she was around. The only problem was that her colourful personality was a handful to deal with. As much as she appreciated the praise of her skills with explosives and technology, Arryn tried to keep a certain distance from Aimee after hearing rumours that there were some rather sketchy drawings - no pun intended - of her in that woman's book.

"Ah, I am sure we will all have plenty of opportunities to talk, since we'll be living together. I don't expect we'll be third wheels for long." Arryn addressed Victor and Deuce, who had been sort of left out of the conversation. Jacob was nice enough, and they all seemed to genuinely be glad for her help. There was a sense of apprehension that this was all politeness, though. The lavender haired girl had no delusions as to how scary she could appear the moment defusing a bomb or messing around with technology became involved. Though she supposed that was not going to be a major problem in this team. "Please don't take Aimee's words to heart, Jacob. I was not snubbing you, just making light of my... reputation when it comes to explosives."

At any rate, these people seemed promising. They were surely an interesting mix of people to be sure, but even despite the enormity of their task, Arryn had a feeling they would be able to deal with any challenges that came along. Their first mission to secure their home base would be a sort of initiation and baptism by fire for the team, she supposed. It was definitely a litmus test, if anything, of how they were going to perform going forward and how they would need to improve or adapt to the situation. Their leader seemed capable enough, especially since he had played the mob into allowing them use of the warehouse. No doubt it was a ruse to convince them that they were mere mercenaries or arms dealers or something of that ilk, and throw off suspicion that they were Butei. After all, they were all new to the city and the police were corrupt, so there was no telling who was friend or foe. Making the enemy believe you were one of them would make that a nonissue, at least for the time being. She doubted the deception would last long.

---

Robin cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, after hearing the thoughts from an Assault. He also carefully considered the skill sets and Bloodlines of everyone involved. A more solid plan quickly formed. It would be risky, but a good measure of everyone's ability to work under pressure.

"Alright, listen up!" He tried to sound confident, as if he was dead certain nothing could go wrong. Though he was very cognizant of the fact that every soul in the room would have long heard that adage about plans not surviving contact with the enemy. "This is the plan. Speed, precision and surprise are going to be key here, so pay close attention."

He picked up the tablet that was synced to the holographic projectors, and began zooming in on the warehouse blueprint. "There are three main ways into the building, and we're attacking all of them. Miss Kalashnikov and I will be infiltrating from the rooftop access door, and at the same time we'll make sure the chopper on the helipad can't be used against us. We'll slip down into the common area through the stairwell door. Hopefully there won't be anyone there and we only need to start making noise after we get into the corridors." His proposed route was highlighted on the hologram, with two dots representing him and Suzumi.

"Now here is where it gets tricky. From initial surveillance, they normally have a few SUVs in the loading bay. I want two pairs on this - Williams and Steiner, Khan and Marlowe." Four more dots popped up, each pair given a separate colour, red and green. "We obviously don't want them using these to escape or counter-attack, disable them. We might be able to put them to use after we take over the place, so don't put them out of commission permanently if you can avoid it. After that is done, you will stand by the door leading inside. Your job is crucial - you have to clear this room quickly and lock down this door on your left. It's their armoury and storage, so if we can keep them from getting to it, we'll be keeping their firepower restricted to whatever they have on them at the moment. Should be no problem given your abilities and skills. From here, you will split - one pair will secure the adjacent room. It's their kitchen, so I don't expect much resistance there, but you can exit the door and attack from the northeast corner of the main ground floor area and assist the guys knocking on the front door."

The warehouse door was highlighted, showing the large, metal sliding doors for vehicles with a smaller frame in the corner for personnel access. A second image taken through dusty windows appeared, a fuzzy photograph of a few armoured technicals. "The main event will comprise Zech, Askins, Murphy and Negasi. You four will breach through the smaller personnel doorway. Murphy and Negasi, you two are in charge of engaging whoever is there, while the Logi go for one of the technicals. Askins, get it started as quickly as you can while Zech gets the weapons online. I don't have the exact lay out of furniture and crates or what not inside, so you might be the only piece of cover the other two have. Once the technical is ready, lay down the firepower."

The hologram enlarged to show the entire area around the warehouse as well. "Miss Jung, you're our sniper support. I'll leave it to you as to where you're going to set up and how you'll pick alternative vantage points, but ideally I want you assisting the front entry team."

Robin took a second to review his own plan and see if there was anything he needed to add. "As far as my brief surveillance showed, they usually have no more than thirty guys inside. My information from the mob is that this gang is about sixty men strong. The remainder are usually outside party or running jobs for the gang, so be prepared to fight a second wave. We'll raid the armoury if we end up needing more guns or ammo. Once the fight for the warehouse is over, I want the technical outside ASAP and parked on this corner ready to intercept anyone that tries to drive up to the main entrance or around to the loading bay in the back. Miss Jung, you'll be in charge of watching for foot soldiers approaching from the docks. Assuming we have a break in the fighting, Lezzads and Dagulas will move out into the surrounding alleyways and side streets to ambush or set up traps."

Robin flashed up a picture of Don Falcone, who looked like a classic middle-aged mob boss from movies. "This goes without saying, but since the mob is sort of hiring us to do this, we need to be discreet. The media will be on a leash until after the fighting is over for good and the police are on site carting away the bodies. Until the smoke clears and the guests leave, we maintain complete silence on our identities. If anyone asks, you're just hired guns Erwin Rommel contracted. During the mission itself, code names only."

---

As the conversations and small talk were interrupted by Robin's briefing, Arryn paid close attention. It seemed a fairly well thought out plan, if a little complicated. Since there was only a single fire ladder accessing the rooftop from outside, it wasn't crucial that they cut off that avenue of escape. Though she supposed it was better to cover every angle possible.

After he had ended with a reminder that everyone should be discreet and keep their identities a secret, Arryn snapped up straight and had a glint in her eyes. She pulled the metal case she'd been carrying around and laid it on the table with a loud "thunk" opening it and handing out earpieces to everyone. Those closest to her would catch a glimpse of her Wasp drone and a few other gadgets, but before they could enquire as to how someone her size could carry around so much metal and not break her back, she began explaining the devices she handed out. It was shaped like a comma, one end obviously meant to be placed in a ear and the other end serving as a mic. She demonstrated it by placing it in her right ear.

"These are short range communicators I personally upgraded. Since we don't want anyone finding out we're Cerberus, I figured I wouldn't use a recognizable Cerberus design. Anyway, these little things should let us maintain communications as long as we're within a klick of each other. The signal can't be jammed as long as we're within half of that distance. They have their own encryption software too, so no one can intercept our communications unless they manage to steal one of these things off you. They also have the added benefit of being trackers and IFF beacons so I don't end up shooting you when I'm using my baby's sensors and you're just a silhouette on my screen." She patted the drone inside the case.

She pulled out her tablet and booted up the tracking program, showing the blip on the screen representing her location in realtime on a 3D map of the mall. "This way, I can maintain situational awareness of everyone and relay information as needed. Or whoever is looking at the screen, really. I thought of making lenses or helmets with the HUDs for everyone, but I didn't have much space left in my luggage or the time..."

Disable cars, clear a room, then ambush a potential second wave. Victor steepled his fingers as he listened to the plan. It wasn't bad. It wasn't going to hold together once the fighting started, but no plan ever did. He wasn't pleased with being put with such a large group, but looking at the mechanics of it, it would still work. As he took the communicator from Zech, he gave a smile to Duece and Khan.

"I look forvard to seeing you vork. Since ve are togezzer for ze first part of zis raid, perhaps ve should all talk a bit before? A basic plan alvays helps keep zings organized."

Standing up, he walked over to Williams, giving another smile as he held out his hand.

"I see zat we're partners on zis, ja? I'm Victor, zo I suppose Arzt will vork for now. You are a Lezzad? I hope zat means you know a vay to disable the vehicles vizzout destroying zem? I zink ve should discuss a bit wizz ze ozzers of our group."

With a quick shooting of his cuffs, Victor pointed to the part of the hologram the four of them would be attacking first.

"After all, I don't know how to disable a vehicle. And I do not zink Warlord does eizzer. But from the dossiers, I know ve are both good at killing."

If the two Lezzad knew how to handle the cars, and Victor took out the garage personnel quietly, that would leave Khan with the fun of breaching the room ahead. An Assault with her skills in a confined space and the element of surprise, plus with three others to give support if needed?

It would almost be an opera.

Jacob wasn't as surprised as the others probably were over Aimee's dramatic reveal of her true manner of speaking, as it was familiar to him. Indeed, upon her mentioning of Terminal Pass, he couldn't help but grin almost wistfully. He did remember that, after all how could he ever forget his first near-death experience? The Pass crew, as some of the others on the Assault team had taken to calling themselves, still occasionally got together during academy. Indeed, they had been known as one of the most damn effective Assault teams around, and given the incredible competence of most teams, that was saying a lot. However, for a moment as she drug him along to meet people, he was lost in how own recollection of events.



The memory came rushing through Murphy in the time it took her to drag him over to meet with Victor, Arryn and Deuce. He'd been drug all over the place by now, not that he minded. Miss Aces here was welcome to drag him wherever she felt like it, 'cept the bedroom. After all, sharing a near-death experience with someone tended to cause bonding, whether you liked it or not. He grinned as she gave a brief introduction to all of them, and replied to Arryn after she spoke "It's alright miss, I understand. I didn't feel snubbed neither. I talk a big game about gunnery, but I'm not rather proud of the talent either. Not really something that got earned, y'know? Audie Murphy earned it, I'm just ridin off his coat-tails." He shrugged in response to that as he sat opposite Aimee and beside Deuce and Arryn. When Aimee offered to go get snacks, he replied with an easy smile "I s'pose I'll try a scone, never have had one before in m'life." True to form, Miss Aces was back pretty quick with the foods promised. But, before he dug in, he shot her a grin and added "Oh, almost forgot to answer your earlier comment, Miss Aces. Us in the pass crew lived fer a reason, right? We're all certified badasses with enough luck to make a four-leaf clover look like a black cat covered in spilled salt walking under a ladder while breaking a mirror." His little analogy done, he returned to business and at the scone in few quick bites. He couldn't help but grin more after eating it, it was pretty good for such a fancy food. He just have to return to this Starbucks sometime while they were here, see if the scones were always this good.

Then however, they were called over for the briefing, and he listened attentively as the TL went through the plan. He slowly nodded as, purely tactically, it was rather sound. Granted, he wasn't sure about Negasi's bloodline, but he didn't know the man yet, so he had no reason to distrust him in the field yet. He did, however, know the man wasn't an assault, and that Jacob was likely going to have to do the majority of the heavy lifting for the frontal assault team. He, honestly, would've preferred Suzumi as a partner, after all infinite suppression is always something you want. Though, based on the weapon preferences listed in the dossier, Negasi favored the MP5, one of H&K's best gifts to the world of special operations. The MP5 should lay down plenty of suppression, it would just be suppression that was barred by the laws of reality, unlike what Suzumi could provide. After the briefing, he was offered a COM by Arryn, which he accepted gratefully. Putting it in his ear, he walked over to his duffel bag and pulled out his M4, slinging it about his shoulder. He grabbed the tactical belt within as well and clipped it on, sliding his extra ammunition into their slots on the belt. He nodded and then double checked his 92FS, found it ready as ever, and gave a thumbs up as he said "Lineman is ready for action."

He then walked over to Sloan, casually offering his hand for a shake as he said "We'll be hittin the field together Negasi, that means I'm puttin my life in your hands, you'll have to do the same. I'll keep you alive and you keep me alive." that done, he then glanced over to Ellis, saying "Hey, uhh, Ellis right? Your piece is a 45, yeah? A revolver too. Plenty good for projecting an image, but maybe not the best for an intel man storming a building. If you want, you can trade me sidearms for this run. I can handle a revolver fine, but you may have more success with my Beretta in such close quarters."

After a few more seconds, he swallowed the coffee scorching his throat and took a deep breath. He waved off Nellie, and took a moment to recollect himself. "Fine, I'm fine," he managed to croak, coughing a few times. Not only did the coffee nearly burn off his tongue, it went down the wrong way and was currently incinerating his lungs. If only there was someone here that could manipulate heat, he'd probably give up half his money to get them to cool his dumbass off. But, as it was, he merely stood straight, poured the other half of his coffee down the nearest sink, and told Nellie, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm fine. Coffee's just a bit too hot, is all."

Finally, the team leader began to speak, so Ellis quieted down and listened intently. He was a bit disappointed in the job he was given, but what could one do? It was the easy job for the infiltrators, the guys that didn't go out on the front lines to fight. Except Khan, who was most likely there to keep the rest of them from getting shot, or to be a sort of tank. He might have a gun, but one doesn't ignore the charging bull, even if there is a sniper behind it.

Regardless of his personal observations, he thanked Arynn for the earpiece, stuffed it into his ear, and prayed to God that it wouldn't deafen him when everyone started chatting in the middle of the mission, because it was bound to happen at some point. He'd need to ask if there was a volume control on it.

Caught on the blindside, Ellis jumped a little when Victor appeared next to him. He was a little busy in his daydreams and thoughts to have noticed someone walking up to him. Once Victor was done introducing himself, Ellis gave him a firm handshake and said, "Name's Ellis, Williams, or Bloodhound, whichever you prefer. And the only thing I can think of to get the cars to where they won't run is to disable the battery or slash the tires. We'll have to ask Aces over there about it before we go, I suppose. Don't want to have to buy new tires or batteries. Stuff's expensive." He cleared his throat when Victor mentioned killing, and commented, "Then I'll have to leave that to you. I'm a tracker, not a fighter. Gun's for show, mostly."

Speaking of guns, one of the two nuts showed up to give him a piece of advice on the whole thing. Joy of joys. He listened, rather patiently, to him about the gun, and finally just ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine, you wanna take a go at it, here it is." Ellis took out the pistol, held it by the barrel, and held the grip out towards Murphy.

Well that was certainly interesting, Deuce mused to himself after watching Aimee burst out of her shell. The Lezzad wasn't too surprised truth be told, he vaguely recalled Aimee from his Academy Days, though not as well as she appeared to recall him. Then again the Lezzad had left the Academy a year or so back so the fact that he didn't entirely remember her wasn't too surprising. He had only made a few friends during his Academy years and none of them had been assigned to this team.

It was at that moment the Team Leader stood up once more, it appeared he was done hitting on the Russian Butei for now. Deuce payed careful attention as the leader went over the plan, it wasn't the most complex plan but then again their leader wasn't exactly in charge because of his strategic prowess. Besides, assaulting some low ranking thugs didn't exactly require an overly complicated plan. Simplicity was probably the best policy for this particular mission.

Speaking of the mission, it seemed he'd be partnered with Nadia, the one with a Bloodline quite similar to his own. Deuce made sure to raise a hand in greeting when he noticed Nadia's own wave. Well calling it a wave might be a bit of a stretch but it was the thought that counted right? Still, from what he had seen in her dossier, Deuce did note that her skill set was a decent compliment to his own. It would be a nice test run to see how well he would be able to work with the rest of this team.

Then there was the actual mission he had been tasked with. Taking care of the SUVs wouldn't be too difficult, he didn't work on his bike just for show after all, he knew a few tricks when it came to dealing with troublesome engines. He may not have been as proficient as his fellow Logi, but disabling was a lot easier than fixing.

The Armory also shouldn't be too difficult, his partner Nadia seemed well suited to the task and Deuce was pretty sure that she'd be able to handle that job all by herself.

The final step was the Kitchen, getting in and out was bound to be another easy task. All in all the mission shouldn't be too difficult.

More interesting however was the image of their "client" so to speak. Deuce was probably one of the few members who recognized him on site, he knew a few contacts working under the man and had heard some nasty stuff. Not exactly the kind of man that Deuce enjoyed working under, if contracts like this continued Deuce was positive he'd start having some second thoughts. There was also the fact that Sinclair worked for a rival mob which could lead to some awkward exchanges. Deuce was fine with working for criminals but only if they possessed some semblance of a moral compass, Don Falcone didn't strike him as such a man.

Reluctantly Deuce excepted an ear piece, the man preferred more low tech approaches and having something stuck in his ear wasn't exactly his idea of enjoyable. Still, he had signed up for this job for now he'd have to play by their rules. "Thank you Miss Zech," Deuce replied as he struggled a moment to put the device in his ear.

"Well Miss Khan, looks like the two of us will be working together for this mission. I'm looking forward to it." Then, turning to respond to the queries of Victor and Ellis, Deuce offered his own insight into the matter. "I've got a few low tech options available, there's a few fuses under the hood that can be pulled, spark plugs, fuel pump, that sort of thing, really most of the stuff you unplug can stop the car from starting and it's not too hard to fix. Of course if you're feeling particularly low tech, we could just jam something into the key hole, break off another key for instance," Deuce shrugged, "I may not be a Logi, but I've broken my share of vehicles, you don't always need a fancy EMP or other high tech gizmos."

As he spoke Suzumi took the weapons out of her dufflebag, lay them on the table and disassembled them. One by one she put them back together, careful to clean and oil each piece as necessary. Close quarters, shotgun was a good choice. An M4 would also have been good, perhaps even better, but she did not have time to return to her hotel room. A pity.

The plan was pretty solid, she thought as she finished up on her sidearm. At least her part was. She liked it when it was fairly simple. The more complicated you made it, the bigger chance something would go awry.

She put on her body armour, which had filled the rest of her bag. Resistant vest and protectors for her joints. And her mask. He did say discreet. Master Exploder explained her gadgetry as Suzumi did this. As far as Suzumi was concerned the ear-piece acted as a communicator. Master Exploder would be taking care of it's other capabilities.

Suzumi usually didn't speak much while she was preparing and today wasn't an exception. There was something profound and relaxing to her about gearing up. It was as if she were finding her muse, the spark that lit the fires of her life. That this was the first true operation she was taking part in only made the feeling deeper. This was to be her first masterpiece.

After all, combat was her canvas and Suzumi was an artist. She was ready.

"Miss Jung, you're on overwatch while we make the approach. Everyone else, keep an eye on your respective partners and let's move out." Robin gave the instruction as he checked his own pistols and ensured they were loaded and ready. He usually preferred to go light and just carry only what he needed, but since he was part of an assault force this time, he figured being prepared for anything would trump being stealthy and quick.

Bandoliers filled with his throwing knives, flechettes, and other useful items of the trade lined his torso and arms, as he pulled a jacket over his first layer of clothing to conceal his weaponry. They had some ways to go before arriving at the warehouse, and he did not want to raise any alarms until the time was right. He tossed car keys out to his team members, those who needed it, at least. "These cars are for our personal use and non-descript. They only have tinted windows and bulletproof plating inside the chassis to make up for a potential ambush, so be careful not to get too close to the warehouse. Armour piercing rounds will go clean through the metal."

He went over the plan again, this time highlight avenues of approach that would keep them hidden from the sentries, as well as pointing out where they could hide the cars for the time being. He turned to his partner for the mission, Suzumi, and flashed that charming smile again. Well then, milday, your chariot awaits." He returned to the Russian for her benefit, but figured they might as well stick to it. There was little chance their targets were going to be fluent in Russian, and it was an added bonus in a firefight if the enemy couldn't figure out what the hell you were saying and planning.

He turned back to his team and gave his final instruction. "Report in once you're in position for the breach and disabled whatever you needed to. We'll commence the attack and breach on my signal. Until then, we keep graveyard silence around the area."

---

The moment the car keys were handed out and the teams preparing to leave, Arryn was back on her tablet. It would be a lot easier to maintain the element of surprise and anonymity if she could keep their cars from being picked up by traffic cameras or identified through any kind of electronic recording device. "I'll try to keep the cars from being recorded on camera, but most of it will have to wait until after the mission. A full system shutdown would be too conspicuous. That said, please try not to draw attention from traffic police in the meantime."

She headed out the car with her partner, the fellow Logi. All of her equipment was set up and just needed to be powered on, but she wasn't working alone. All the hardware could be at peak performance but the human element was always a wild card. "I'll be counting on you, partner."

Victor adjusted the black leather gloves, smirking at how stereotypical he had to look to the others. Black suit, red tie, leather gloves, a silenced pistol at his hip and several long thin knives strapped beneath his jacket. A textbook description of a hitman if there ever was one. The only oddity was the black surgical mask he put on. It was less to hide his identity and more to keep blood from getting into his mouth. Before the procurement of the special mask, he had made do with handkerchiefs, torn clothing, anything at hand really. Inevitably, he ended up ordering the special mask. It prevented fluids from passing through at all, completely liquid proof. It formed to his face better as well, and even had small one way vents to make sure he didn't fog up his glasses.

Best hundred bucks he ever spent. The German glanced at Bloodhound, Khan, and Deuce, shooting his cuffs out with a final glance at his ammo in the gun as he holstered it. Noisy thing, though useful in a pinch. He didn't like this guns blazing approach, but best to look at it as a team building exercise. Plus he could see the others in action and get a better feel for their abilities. A slow breath in, hold...out. The calm before the storm. Arzt was calm. And soon, they would be a storm.

"I am ready ven you are."

Mat Ruspanti

The distance between me and the cold hard ground should approximately be twelve or so metres, if the height of these buildings aren't too dissimilar to those back home. The distance between the edge of the building and my desired landing point is around ... I'm one point six-oh, so about ten of me; sixteen seems like a good enough estimate. Angle of depression is congruent to angle of elevation. Angle of elevation is the inverse tangent of twelve over sixteen. Tan theta is opposite over adjacent. Basic trigonometry. My calculator slips into my hand with ease. You may begrudge me for deciding to attempt these mental calculations with the assistance of machinery, but this calculator is like a lover. It has helped me much over the years. Why should I ignore it, when my heart beckons for its functions?

I also happen to be accelerating rapidly in a negative direction, and for all that I tout myself as an engineering genius, I am not actually fast enough to use the Taylor series for my calculations while mid-air and descending. Not that I would need it when my beloved calculator is here with me. My hand clenches tightly around it as my body continues to fall towards the concrete ground. Fingers quickly tap against well-worn keys, repeating actions done so many times in the past.

tan−1 (12/16)
36.8698976458

Hm, I have it set to degrees today. I thought I had it on radians.

But I digress.

The calculator slips back into my long sleeves.

Air rushes past my face.

You may be wondering why I am bothering to calculate such a number at this time.

The answer's simple. I want to. I want to keep my mind thinking. I want to do mathematics.

I enjoy doing mathematics.

Ah. There's the ground.

I detach a bean bag from my belt. Right side. I don't see it fall. I'm confident in my abilities.

A second later I hear a gigantic bean bag thud against the ground. Rinascimento worked. I hold in a laugh. Of course it did. If I couldn't trust my own power, what could I trust?

I hit the beanbag with a thud.

Ouch. I feel the force shudder through my legs. I should have picked a lower height to fall from.

At least my legs are still around.

And then I spring back up.

A visit to the local hardware store had netted me some springs and the beanbag. It had taken some tinkering, but I had managed to produce an amateur trampoline. Softer than the usual. Which suited me fine because I didn't want sore feet.

Rinascimento was so useful sometimes.

I'm flying over this building. It's high enough for me to see the lamp posts on the street on the other side begin to turn on for the evening. I think that this city is a den of scum and hive and villainy ... no wait I got the reference wrong; it's a hive of scum and ... wait that doesn't sound right ah yes "you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy". Anyway; Arkhan's a horrible place. But all the lights, the circuitry that runs through the streets and power lines ... it's beautiful. It's sad that people don't know how they work. How the hidden LDRs allow current to flow. To bring energy and light to the world.

And I'm getting off-track again.

They don't see me until the last minute.

I decelerated a lot more gently this time. The ground in front of the Starbucks entrance rushes to meet me. My feet patter against concrete before the assembled group of Butei. I suppose I'm late. Maybe, maybe not. I don't think they expected me.

Brushing back some strands of hair so I can see better, I swivel on one foot, shooting them what my mother calls a "winning smile".

"Mes amis!" I exclaim, my arms opening wide in greeting. "C'est un plaisir!"

On second thought, I hope that they don't shoot me. Kevlar only does so much.

Everyone left the Starbucks together, trying not to look conspicuous leaving the mall too late. Given the way some of them looked, Arryn was rather certain anyone watching would assume they were a bunch of delinquents up to no good, or that some kind of juvenile high school had just taken place. Some of them sure looked young enough to pass off as teenagers.

It was at that moment that a familiar face appeared before her, talking about being late. It seemed Mat hadn't changed much from his days at the Academy. He could probably compete with Robin for who made flashier entrances. Their team leader was a little more intentional, while Mat seemed to just be shameless about his own bad habits. Arryn didn't quite know if there was a distinction.

"Good evening too, Mat. I see you haven't changed at all after graduation." Arryn greeted him politely, tossing him the car keys and communicator. She was in charge of briefing him on the plan, she supposed. "Our car is the Dodge Charger."

A Dodge Charger? We are taking an American car? I'd rather take a Peugeot 306 over an American car any day, and that's a station wagon. Though honestly I do like the 306, it's a pretty comfy car to ride around in and sadly overshadowed by the 307. I mean if you want family cars, then the 307's really your best bet. My uncle owned a 307. I actually learned to drive in one and-

Ah, I'm losing myself again. Anyway, where was I ...

Right. Dodge Charger. American cars, and -

My eyes take sight of the so-called Dodge Charger.

Wow Arryn, that isn't a Dodge. That's not even an American car. It's a Toyota Corolla. E120 in fact. The differences between a Charger and a Corolla are actually quite evident. How do you mistake them for each-

I look at her.

That smug smile.

I try to stop it, but my eyebrows twitch slightly in annoyance.

My right fist shakes at her in mock-anger. The car keys jingle and jangle within my hand.

"Chérie, je suis déçue," I say, shaking my head in disappointment. Always a tease, that Arryn. Looks like she didn't change much since graduation either.

Though admittedly I didn't actually talk to her as much as my calculator.

I can feel its comforting weight in my sleeve.

Thanks calculator.

Anyway, back to the thingie at hand.

"Où allons-nous?" is the next thing say. Where exactly are we going? Fashionably late, I may have been, but I know very little about the plan, taking the "Dodge Charger" or not.

Details. They're important.

"Warehouse. Our team leader worked out some kind of deal with the Italian mob to keep it as our base of operations in exchange for clearing out some gang that's using it." Arryn explained briefly, tossing him a tablet with details of the plan, including the layout and their role in the attack. "We're assisting the front door assault team by commandeering the enemy's technical. Oh, and our 'employment status' is a big secret, so don't say anything that might give us away."

Arryn glanced at the calculator in Mat's sleeve, and though she did not say it, the comment was pointed at the calculator that was just as prone to give away their element of surprise as Mat was. "You never really had to tinker with something under fire, will you be alright?"

You know I actually just fell from the sky and broke my fall with tinkered beanbags, and jumped over a building with springs in my feet. My machining ... is it machining? Yeah, that's the word. Machining. My machining skills are pretty top-notcha, don'tcha know? I drive better, but hey I can totally get this stuff down if I'm being sh-

Oh wait my mouth isn't open.

Ack okay okay Ruspanti, turn that eggnog ... nogging? Noggin? Yeah noggin. Turn that thing back around so you can say what you want to say.

I smile.

"Ne t'en fais pas." The words slip out of my mouth with practiced ease. I'm actually not sure of myself. But I have an image to uphold. And besides, it shouldn't be too difficult to handle, hopefully.

My eyes glance down at the tablet she's handed me. Let's see here, doesn't pertain to me, doesn't pertain to me, doesn't pertain to ... ooh, here we are.

This isn't even going to be hard.

Well, maybe not being too flashy could be a problem.

"Accord," I say finally. Woah, I was pretty silent and musing there. So I nod vigorously at Arryn. Everything is going to be fine. I'll try my best not to give myself away, I'll try and not get killed when tinkering, and -

Oh sorry calculator I need to hide you somewhere better.

It falls out of my sleeve and into my left hand. I promptly jam it in one of my baggy jacket's many inner pockets.

Okay, we're clear.

Arryn had a faint suspicion she was going to have keep Mat from getting shot some time during their mission, but she kept that thought to herself. Of all the things a Butei carried, he had a calculator. Unless math problems suddenly grew bodies and became career criminals...

She shook the thought from her head and ran her finger over his tablet to make sure he looked at the rest of the plan. "You should probably be familiar with what the others are doing so you don't end up shooting one of our own. Especially since you weren't around for the introductions." She honestly felt as if she was being a little too motherly at times, but given Mat's personality and how some of her teammates behaved, it was probably for the best if she kept an eye on them for now.

"You should probably introduce yourself to the other two we'll be teaming up with for the attack." Arryn gestured at the other pair of Butei, whose car was right beside theirs. "This is Mat. He's a little late to the party, but I'm getting him up to speed and he'll be our driver."
I grin and bow, adding a little flourish to the movement.

As I rise, my grin fades to a simple smile. I like smiling, honestly. It's a lot more authentic than all those big grins I do. And ... oh wow they're pretty tall. I feel surrounded by giants.

Okay don't show that to them. Maman always told me to make a good first impression, especially when they probably have guns.

She nearly got shot by insurrectionists once when delivering aid in Libya.

Anyway, situation at haaaand.

"Bonsoir," I say, quickly looking down at the tablet as Arryn had instructed. Okay, these two guys were ... Jacob Murphy and Sloan Negasi? I guess the latter's probably the berbère-looking one. "Enchanté."

So these two are going to be covering for Arryn and I when we do our thing in the personnel hallway? Yep, best to make a good impression.

"Vous êtes beaux," I add. They are quite pretty, after all.