A small black car quietly wound its way through the side-streets of the northeast, as the sun gradually descended towards the horizon. The blazing orb was a ticking timer, for nightfall heralded the descent of death itself, but still the vehicle moved slowly, for its destination today was an unusual one, too specific to leave to chance.

In the passenger seat, Martin Brady ground his teeth together for the hundredth time that day, as he waited for something to go horribly wrong.

He'd been doing pretty well, before. Starting out as little more than a common thug, he'd risen to become a competent and ruthless ringleader among the Irish mobsters, with prospects of becoming a major boss himself one day. So long as he'd kept on performing well, and stealthily undermining his competitors, he might have climbed up to being one of the most powerful people in the city.

And then his fucking boss had decided to pick a fight with the K9.

Yeah, technically they hadn't declared an all-out war just yet. But with murderers and sociopaths like them, it was only a matter of time. The killers would be coming for blood, and Martin had no doubt that they would get what they wanted, one way or another. The only choice for him and his men now was to fight, and hope that the entire Irish Mob could take down nine people before it was too late. Given who those nine were, he had good reason to be afraid.

When you made an enemy like them, the whole city seemed to grow a little darker, a little more menacing. Every rooftop could hide a deadly accurate sniper, every shadow a grinning madman with a knife, every door a towering thug brandishing a shotgun. Ghosts lurked throughout Las Vegas, and nowhere was safe anymore.

After what seemed like an eternity of following the map, the car stopped, parking up against the side of the road. Martin and his driver stepped out, doing their best to glance around without looking suspicious. With a quick nod to one another, they shut the doors, and strode down the sidewalk together.

Their target was only a few meters down- an empty, bright red Nissan Altima. A quick check of the number plate confirmed that this was indeed the car they were looking for. Stepping back, Martin glanced at his driver, who took a deep breath, and pulled open the trunk. It wasn't locked, and slid open easily, revealing a fairly large cardboard box within.

Martin's cell phone buzzed.

He pulled it out, and flinched when he saw who it was. The Dragonfly was calling, which meant that she was watching, possibly with a weapon trained on him. Swallowing, he picked up. "Hello?"

The voice that came through was cool, even soothing. "Hey, I see you found my package. Instructions are inside, you'll follow them to the letter, understand? Hunker down, get my stuff in position, and maybe some of you will survive the night."

The words drew a frown from the Irishman. Maybe his boss had chosen to hire this woman, but he didn't appreciate being ordered around like that. But then, what was he to do? He'd never met the Dragonfly, he had no idea where she was, and she was supposedly good enough to give the K9 a run for their money. Antagonizing her would be foolish, as would disobeying.

"Got it."

"Good." The call cut off.

Slowly, Martin walked up to his driver, and carefully opened the box in the red car's trunk, taking a look inside. His eyes widened. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but this was... quite high-end stuff.

The two men carefully carried the box back to their own car, and drove off, feeling optimistic for the first time that day.

Walking casually across her apartment floor in nothing but a t-shirt and the bra and panties she wore, Zoe held a wine glass in her right hand. Was it legal for someone of her age to be drinking, well not in the country she was currently in, but when had that stopped anyone before. She was on her own no one was going to tell! Besides that from the rumors she'd been reading on the net the show could get very interesting tonight and she didn't want to miss a beat. After taking a sip of her wine and setting the glass down on her nightstand Zoe sat down on her bed turning on her laptop, and the three surrounding television monitors she had set up around her room.

Within moments of the computer starting up she was already to work. Opening doors to her already hacked systems and with the touch of button all of Las Vegas came to light on her monitors. Of course with each of them being sixty-five inches it helped when splitting cameras, and these were just the best angles. She had a background program running to detect flashes that could be from guns, grenades, or anything really so that anything flashy would catch the programs attention and make it a main view on the monitors. It was a bit difficult with lightning involved, but that wasn't very likely this night that was slowly dawning on them. Other than that the cameras on one screen would just cycle through random cameras every so often to give Zoe a good picture of what was going on.

While she had all this turned on in only moments Zoe had quickly begun to work on more hacks into new things. This city was buzzing to life and she had already received a few interesting requests online through one of her aliases about a big job. For now she wasn't biting, it seemed several people already were going to take a crack at it and she wanted to see the results first, and pile up some resources and information. Hopefully everyone would provide her with a good show tonight.

Poor guy. Helen reached to put a comforting shoulder on the broken man's shoulder but reconsidered at the last moment. The guy still had a knife in his hand after all. She preferred keep her number of fingers at ten. She pitied him, but knew better than to sympathise. There were more pleasant ways to die besides at the hands of a madman. So instead, she addressed her other teammate.

"Sooo Reaper Man, what's hip and happening in the northeast? We got any major hideouts lined up?"

She heard a dull clunk before turning and seeing Yruzza dazed and off the table. Finally. She smiled and offered her thermos to him.

"Helps with the nerves," she explained and held the warm container out to the man, "As for how we're getting there..."

"We could take the vans. Disguises would probably help too. There's that Asian tourist one I haven't done in a while."

She addressed both her teammates, hoping for further suggestions. She didn't like being in charge. She needed to be given a direction, one that was clear and that she would succeed in. Ramshackle's mental state put him out of the running, so Shane was the best candidate. But if needed, she would begrudgingly take the lead.

"So?"

@LokiLeo789 @MetalHead

Zeke exited out of the building to his own SUV, going to the back of the vehicle first and popping the truck open to reveal a large custom-made chest that filled the entire back of the vehicle, based off the kind the military liked to use to store their own supplies of arms, though this one's lock was unconventional. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out rifle cartridge he had been twirling earlier, fitting the bullet lead-first into the unusual lock, he then tapped the false cartridge's blasting cap with a simple ring on his right hand that had a firing pin fitting. There was a soft click as the case unlocked, and he withdrew the cartridge, opening the chest.

Though Zeke never carried his heavy arms in this chest, it was what he referred to as his "go-to kit", essentially housing all the weapons and gear he normally used on a job. It was filled with a motley assortment of handguns, several shotguns, and a handful of rifles. Ammunition was kept in pouches near them. Aside from the guns, he also kept a couple of his face-masks in the case. The actual masks being out of a solid metal alloy commonly used for tanks, with the weave over the rest of the rest of his head being made out of the military prototype "dragon-hide". They'd cost Zeke a fortune to procure in the quantities he had desired, but then he wasn't aiming to be The Lead Lord who went down by simple bullets. He'd painted this particular mask to mimic his skull, figuring that he'd go for more a grim reaper look for this job.

He slid the mask over his head, making such the weave met the neck of his jacket, and then started loading up on arms. His two .44 revolvers were already on him at his hips, but he loaded a Desert Eagle into a holster on the back of his belt, a sawed off shotgun into a thigh holster on each leg, four M1911s to holsters on his chest, and lastly picked out an M4 Carbine Assault rifle. He took a couple pouches of ammo for his pistols and three clips for his M4 before closing the chest and trunk, carefully placing the loaded M4 in the passenger seat, and starting the car up.

He spoke into his neck mic as he pulled out of the meeting place on the public roads:

"This is Lead Lord, I'm mobile and have my teeth in, heading for the assignment. What's your status First-Degree, Lucky?"

Miles scowled, bemused, at Nobody as he went through the motions of his kazoo plan. He was very animated. "For someone who makes a point to be inconspicuous, you're very much not," he stated. Still, with Maja agreeing to the plan, there wasn't much excuse left for him. "Fine, fine. We doing this on foot? I need to stop at the van anyway." He had come to the meeting without a weapon and without cover, and while he had weapons and a disguise in his van, he'd much prefer to return to his "base," The Tilted Tulip. It was where he kept the majority of his..supplies, but he knew returning there in this moment could be difficult. Who's going to water the plants? he thought sadly, his gaze unfocused for a moment.

@Kidd@Bombardier

Maja stared at Miles, though it's be difficult to tell for him due to the sunglasses.

"No, Mr. Thorn, we shall be hunting down Ireland's finest with our vehicles so kindly provided to us by Mr. Donovan. Now, a friend of mine mentioned there were group of the Irish Mob posted in an abandoned construction sight. If my information is still relevant, there is estimated eleven gunmen on sight. Product is delivered to the construction sight from a yet-to-be-seen location, from there it is distributed onto the streets. One of the few distribution centers the Irish mob have, and I think it would be in true K9 spirit if we made them an example for the rest. 8501 Atomic Avenue is the place."

She raised her arm at the elbow and let her silenced handgun point towards the ceiling.

"Shall we make our way to our vans, gentlemen? I do not think our hosts want to be kept waiting." Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and made her way outside to where the vans were being stored. There was no time for shenanigans, for if seriousness and cooperation was ever need in K9, it would be in a time where their power was being challenged.

---

Reaper Man and Mute would find it amazing how quickly Yruzza was able to get his team to thier designated spot. Better yet, the spot he though was best. Yruzza knew Vegas like the back of his hand, and drove like so. Back at the hideout, he had opted out of drinking from Mute's thermos, simply saying
"I don't like drinks in thermos'. I do have a plan, just follow my lead." He would take into consideration her suggestions though. Yruzza was always dressed for success, that's what he liked to call it.

Yruzza was clad in a black hoodie with black cargo jeans, and black sneakers. Jordan's. Underneath them all, was stashed a plethora of weapons, blades to be specific. On his back, was strapped 2 straight cleavers, under his armpits and along his ribs sat 8 throwing knives, 4 on each side. In his hoodie pocket, sat a folding knives, another was hidden his back pocket. Under his jeans, was hidden his desert eagle, specifically on the right leg, and on the left, was hidden 4 more throwing knives. Yruzza had a thing for blades, he found them easier than his hands.

Ramshackle had opted out of used a van, calling it stupid and cliche, and opted for a simple red family van, begging for them to use it. He had felt that it would make for them to use it that was all, mostly because of where he chose to park. The Trump Hotel was built in an unusual spot. The building faced the north, away from the strip, which was even worse since it was far enough from the action of downtown. In front of the building, was a massive dirt lot, which was just bad choice in location on Trumps part. To the southeast of the building was the Fashion Show mall, and to the southeast was either a strip club, or porn emporium, he couldn't tell from where he sat.

Team Reaper, Mute, and Ramshackle would fake a car break down near the hotel, specifically on Desert Inn, a highway bridge that sat in front of the tower, or a few hundred feet away. Bad positioning on Trumps part once again. Unfortunately, this would have been perfect for team Yruzza, if the man could tell the difference between reality and dream. For all he knew, this could have been a whole mental rant on what should have been done, and he was still being offered the thermos from Mute back at the meeting room. He couldn't tell, his life-saving clarity of mind, had vanished completely.

Unfortunately, it was true, reality came and smacked Yruzza in the face again, he was in fact still in meeting room. Slightly peeved by the fact that Mute chose to address Reaper instead of him, Yruzza took to his feet. "I don't want your drink lady, no time for that. I have a plan, and disguises are defiantly going to play a part." he jibbed, laughing at the unusual irony of it all. Was it irony? What was irony again? Couldn't remember. "To the vans!" he proclaimed, walking out the door with the rest of the killers, knife waving dangerously in he air. Right along side Maja.

Maja? Who was that again, a woman. He had killed a woman before.. His mother was a woman. Maybe? He never checked. . . he probably should have, just in case. Attempting to make conversation with someone other than he team, he went on to interview Maja as they made their way down to the vans. "Don't you think its a bit suspicious for eleven trained killers to be standing around a construction sight? Whats the shipment? Can I have some? You ever tasted human? Are woman really naturally smarter than men? Is it true that women choose to be dominated because thier afraid and addicted to manly musk?" he fired off with childlike glee. He was curious after hearing her rattle of info to her team. More that curious. How could someone like him be a hired killer?

---

@LokiLeo789

Maja heard Ramshackle. come up beside her as she continued to make her way down the hallway. She waited until he was...finished...and, unknowingly doing exactly what Yruzza seemed to want, rattled off a rapid-fire response in her signature monotone, unreadable, lightly Swedish accented voice.

"Yes. Most likely cocaine. No. Once, in Kansas. I am a woman of gender equality, and as such; no, and no." She pushed in a metal bar and opened a door to an obscure parking lot where the vans were. There they were, all in a row. They were gated in by a padlocked gate that lead into a generally quiet street way. She held the metal door open for a second to let Yruzza through, walked a few more paces, and then paused to reunite with her team; Like a teacher during a fire drill.

Grinning undetectably, Coy gave a thumbs up when Maja approved of his kazoo plan, and he followed up with removing his kazoo for a moment to stick his tongue out at Miles as his fellow assassin suggested sunglasses to him. On the other end, Miles seemed annoyed with him.
"For someone who makes a point to be inconspicuous, you're very much not."
Putting his tongue back into his mouth, Nobody placed the kazoo back into its original place and snapped his head into Miles' direction, expression and intent concealed by the mask, and left his gaze there for around 20 seconds. He just listened intently to Maja's intel. It was only after she mentioned going to the vans that Coy finally moved in the form of a nod before following her.

Nobody started to gear up, placing his sheathed machete on the inside of his coat, lifting up his pants leg to see if his sawed-off shotgun was still there—as if it could have scurried off, in addition taking a silenced machine pistol out of his bag. After pounding his knuckle into his open hand a couple of times along with stretching, he looked at Maja and gave a confident nod. The silent assassin was ready to fuck shit up.

Miles was snapped out of the worry for his poor, wilting plants by the stare from Nobody. He stared back for a moment, became unsettled, and then looked around at the rest of K9 as they headed for the vans. It was as if he was asking, "Are you seeing this shit?" No one seem particularly interested, though, and the ordeal was soon over. Nobody joined the rest. Miles rolled his eyes and pulled his hair up into a bun as he started walking. Hair tie between his teeth, he just scowled at everyone's backs..until his lips turned into a small smile. It was almost genuine, which was something for the assassin: but hey, he considered these people his family. They'd be fine.

Dark hair up, the man dropped his arms as he arrived beside Maja. "I'll switch out glasses for contacts as a start," he told her in regards to his "disguise." "And since we're covering just southern Vegas, this should be simple. I don't even think anyone is really there, so just keep an eye out for the 'lancers."

Zeke drove down mostly public streets as he headed for the address, keeping Donny's plan in mind, he veered off a block away from 2000 Fashion Shaw Drive, parking his SUV in a back alley behind some of the low lying buildings there. Though Las Vegas is famous for its Strip and its massive buildings, the great irony is that not even a block or two off of the Strip, most buildings look like any other town in Nevada or Arizona, and don't share the penchant for high-rises.

Parking and locking the car, Zeke grabs his rifle from the passenger seat and starts climbing up a service ladder to the roof, he speaks as he climbs.

"I'm almost in position, just on the other side of the block, getting a good vantage point."

His sideways nod showed some disagreement with Miles' statement. Taking out a slip of paper and a pen, he scribbled something down rather awkwardly before showing him the messy writing. Always be on guard, never underestimate them. He placed it back into his pocket.

Coy poked Maja on the shoulder, wanting to get her attention, then pointed at himself and stuck his hands out straight in front of him to make driving motions, clearly wanting to be the one to drive. He was a good driver, and he knew it. Almost acting as if his fellow assassin was his mother who wouldn't get him something he wanted, the assassin clasped his hands together and got on his knees to beg her.

"... ...?"

Head previously bowed, Nobody looked up and, even though you couldn't see his eyes, gave the best puppy dog stare he could while wearing a ski mask. All of his gestures just screamed in desperation 'Pleeeaaaassssseeeeee'

@Kidd@Bombardier

Coy tapped her shoulder, and Maja turned to face him and was greeted with something she didn't quite expect from a trained killer. Maja lowered her sunglasses with her finger, peeking down at the begging masked man before her. "Well, Mr. Coy, the plan I had in mind does involve you driving a car. And, yes, I know you particularly excel in driving. I will have to discuss my plan, however, with Miles." She pulled her shades back up to her eyes and turned her head to look at Miles.

"Mr. Thorn. The "construction workers" on the site are our targets, as I mentioned before. They move product through there, and my suggested objective is terminating the "workers" and shutting down Irish Mob activities.

My plan is simple, and if you are up to this task, everything should go well. I will take my van to the front entrance of the site and distract the guards there. I am very good at doing that, you would not have anything to worry about. While I am doing that, Mr. Coy will drive you around back where you would find a way in and start eliminating our enemies stealthily. If I hear gunshots, I will participate in the firefight. I also hope that Mr. Coy would be obliged too engage with the enemy as well."

She continued to stare at him through her sunglasses, took a short breath, and continued. "I should be able to distract them for about seven minutes before they are forced to deal with me using violence. If you have not gone loud before this happens, the code will be 'Way back east.' If I say that, please do open fire. If you have any other plans of action, or perhaps even a better target, I would be interested in hearing them. If you cannot think of anything, we follow my plan."

She hid her now silenced pistol once again in her business jacket and folded her manicured hands behind her back, waiting for a response from her comrade.

Miles grew a little sober while she spoke; he was a good listener when he needed to be and Maja spoke with confidence. Not only that, but her plan was straightforward and intelligent. He had never been much of a leader for all his...good qualities, and still much preferred working alone. But, "No arguments here. Sounds good, Borrealis. Don't worry about the timing, seven minutes should be plenty." As he spoke, he turned to open the back of his own van; he exchanged his glasses for contacts and rested a harness over his shoulders.

"If anything, I'd like to watch for a bit and stake the place out first," Miles added. "Get a better idea of numbers, what they're armed with, et cetera." He glanced between the other two as he prepped himself with a couple blades and slipped two handguns into the harness. Once done, he pulled a dark hoodie on over his hair.

Coy hopped up with joy after Maja said he would get to drive during this mission. If there was something Nobody was good at it was drive-bys, especially when he was the one in control of the vehicle. The thing that stopped his jovial jumping was the need to pay attention to Maja as she explained her plan: kill the construction workers; well, they should use stealth till detected or till they hear the code word, but that was the general gist of it. The ski-mask wearer simply raised and lowered his head to signify he was down with her plan. Having excitedly hopped into the van, Nobody turned on the car, lowered the window, and started bouncing in his seat. He simply gave a nod to Miles' plan to figure out what they're dealing with before striking.

"... ..."

Part of his upper body outside the car, he gestured for Miles' to hop in with gun in hand before sticking his head in and placing his mostly empty hands on the wheel. Their enemies wouldn't wait forever. "...!" He almost forgot! Coy placed the kazoo into his mouth and attempted to toot some hype music. What came out of the kazoo was just a series of wretched sounds and spit, but it sounded pretty fucking awesome to Nobody. It was time to go!

Maja responded quickly to Miles' and Coy's agreement.
"Excellent. Alert me via the microphone when you are ready to begin. take all the time you need to survey the area, but no more than thirty minutes. You know the address of the location. Mr. Coy, find a nice, discreet entrance for Mr. Thorn. Farewell." As Coy skipped off into his car, she turned on her heel and walked with a brisk pace to her van- which she would be driving solo. She inserted a key into the slot, cracked open the door, and stepped up inside her vehicle.

She pulled the door shut with a satisfying thunk. The engine quietly buzzed to life- an advantage of the electric engines they all had installed. She slowly reversed and pulled out of the lot, navigating down the narrow alleyway that led into their temporary hide out. The street was quiet, someone rode their bike down the side-walk. The wheels of her van crunched the gravel as she made her way to their hit location.

As she sat in the driver's seat, expressionless, she had some time for some self inflection. This van, it was comfortable and made her feel safe. It was bullet resistant. The interior was black to match the exterior, and it created an oddly cozy sensation. She pulled up to a red light, and adjusted the rearview mirror to see if any one of her teammates on K9 were behind her.

Zeke finally climbed up onto the roof, setting himself up against a set of ventilation units, he looked around down the scope of his assault rifle to check out the area. He quickly glanced around until he found Donny's SUV parked around the block from the Trump Hotel. He couldn't tell from the tinted windows whether or not Donny had gotten out of the car yet, but considering that there wasn't pandemonium yet, he wagered no.

"Got ya. I'm at your nine and ready to go. Got full view of the hotel from here."

Zeke looked around the building casually with his rifle, he could spy some people, bystanders moving casually along inside it and outside. They'd cause havoc for any Irishmen in there once shit hit the fan. Though Zeke also felt some apprehension: where the fuck was Lucky? She seemed to be taking an abnormally long amount of time to get in position.