|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Nov 19, 2008 7:42:18 GMT -5
A popular night time attraction for the underground of Tokyo, and a well known hub for the Yakuza. The two floors of the club are linked with mirrored curving staircases usually packed with party goers. The top is where the corporate fat cats sit, a sort of mingling area in case you don't like bouncing to the beat as much as the ravers packed like sardines in the bottom dance area.
The place flares after midnight with a resident DJ blasting the walls with high octane music.
|
|
|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 14, 2011 9:12:24 GMT -5
[OoC- Rain, Kaz and Elita have entered.]
Surroundings had changed from worn buildings to a slick futuristic setting, everything near a polished sheen strictly for the wealthy residents of Tokyo. It was the sort of place which intimidated you purely by what you saw; if you didn't have the gall to hang out amongst such a cool atmosphere while dropping stacks of cash, you didn't have what it takes to walks the red carpet of the Shinjuku District.
All Elita saw were the rats of society, poison, a place of departure. Amongst them all she was the ghost who went unnoticed, reaper of the underworld. Watching, and waiting, in preparation for the next person who's time ran out.
The widow leaned in to Kaz again, "Relax," she soothed in warning before jabbing a syringe behind his ear injecting a small dose of liquid, "Means of communication. You won't be alone in there. If need be we can talk to you, and we'll hear every word you say. Just keep calm," Rain brought their Lamborghini around the final corner, into the main street of light. Traffic slowed so the lesser denizens waiting in line at each of the clubs could see the wealthy arrive, "This is it."
Stopping at the crimson carpet leading up to the front entrance, lines of people waiting to enter standing at either side. Two men approached the car, first most aiding Kaz out while another stepped around to the other side opening Rain's door for him. Elita politely waited for the passenger seat to be pushed forwards before stepping out herself. One of the chauffeurs hopped into the Lamborghini, driving it off to the appointed garage.
As Elita crossed the verge, nearing the carpet, she nudged a bystander as if whimsically antagonizing the fact he were lesser than her. Out of his coat pocket she had palmed a pair of shades, meeting with Rain and Kaz at the foot of the carpet before moving with them. The ghost tucked the shades into Kazuhiko's palm unnoticed before all together moving forwards.
Rain taking the head, the body guard; Kazuhiko center, the high roller; and Elita taking the back, the enigmatic right hand keeping a low gaze.
<Keep on Mishima until you're at Fumisato. Don't break away until the old man initiates conversation, find your own spot after that. Remove anything that comes between you and then.>
Elita immediately split from the group, disappearing into the crowd. Even without her camouflage she could still vanish from sight.
|
|
Arkaym
Zombie Hunter
I'm awesome.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Arkaym on Jun 14, 2011 9:34:23 GMT -5
Kaz was just about to turn his head in confusion when Elita said relax, just to feel the sharp but short pain of a needle jabbing in, right near his ear. Ouch. The physical pain did not bother him, but that made escape a much more difficult option for him. He imagined even a decent doctor or surgeon would have a difficult time removing whatever he had just been injected with any time soon.
But as he laid back and thought about his 'task' just before they arrived, something bugged him. His company was dealing with Yakuza? That made sense now, based on his Father's revealed activities, but... Why did Tricell want this to happen, and go smoothly? What part did they play in this? Confused and annoyed that he was in the dark, he allowed himself to be welcomed into the club.
Just as the earthquaking sound of night club music met his hears, he felt some sunglasses being placed into his palm. Kaz put them on and went to thank Elita, but she had vanished into the crowd. Damn, she was good. Of course, one thing was still missing from his 'disguise'. Despite any objections Rain or Elita might have, he entered the main bar area of the club, tapping his foot idly to the music almost unnoticably, before wandering to the bar itself.
There, he ordered himself a Mai Tai, a currently fashionable and expensive cocktail, paying with banknotes from his wallet that was so full of cash it was practically bursting from its designer leather edges. Waiting until his drink was ready, he picked it up and sipped it lightly. Nice, and his costume was complete.
Finally ready to obey Tricell briefly, he began to wander up the stairs that led to the second floor, where he believed this businessman would be.
|
|
|
Post by KR0R1C on Jun 14, 2011 12:13:09 GMT -5
Rain led the way into the crowded club. His optic implants scanned the enviroment, processed the data then fed the intel directly into what he saw. The system highlighted known Yakuza members and kept waypoints on Mishima and Elita. He moved deeper into the club and went with Mishima to get his drink. As he was ready they made their way up the large staircase, Rain leading the way.
The stairs were crowded with dancers and gang members alike. None recognized Rain without his uniform, however it was obvious Mishima was getting some dark glares. But as Elita predicted no one acted on them... yet. They made it to the top of the stairs where the loud music down stairs was strangely muffled, and a softer tone of music played in the back ground. The drone of crowds of talking people turned into silent whispers and occasional laughs. And the warm humid air of below became cool but filled with thick smoke. They slowly continued their way toward the back, Rain had an idea at where the man they sought would be at, probably in the same place he himself would have chosen back in the day.
Soon enough they approached a round booth style table in a back corner. Thick leathery smelling cigar smoke filled the air around it and two half naked asian girls in sparkling bathing suits left the table as they approached. Then two guards stepped out of the smoke and shadows before they could get too close. From around their broad shoulders the man Elita described earlier could be seen behind thick clouds of smoke. The guards finally spoke up in Japanese, "We have to ask you to return to the party."
[orange]"Cant do that. I have a special guest here to see Fumisato Yasunobu. A business meeting you see?"[/orange]
The guards seemed hesitant until one of them nudged his head at the other who then turned and whispered something to someone at the table. It was passed along in this fashion until it got to Fumisato. He then gave the slightest of nods to the man to his left; an older bald man likely the pinky, then raised his hand and waved them in. The guard stepped aside allowed them entry. Rain stepped to the table then turned around and stood at ease, hands crossed in front of himself, standing guard. It was Mishima's queue to step in.
|
|
|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 15, 2011 5:07:33 GMT -5
"Ha haaaa!" a baritone laugh carried over the circle table, "Get the fack out of the way and let him in!" the voice were surprisingly in English, one typical of a Western born Easterner, "Mishima-san, sit down, sit down," fat fingers waved for the young man to step into the booth, "And tell your lapdog to f*ck off will you," Fumisato quickly added while dusting his dark coat.
The fat cat leaned in over the table looking over his full moon glasses, "Ahahaaa, the day I finally get to meet Eisaku's boy, Hhaah! I knew he'd pass on his Yakuza blood some day, he was just too bloody busy to introduce us, ya?" he giggled a bit more before pouring himself a drink, "Tell your father to call me some day, yeah?" he asked while putting the bottle down, "I know his East Asia Trading is a handful but, eh, he needs to keep in contact, you know?" he suddenly froze up, "You don't mind speaking in English do you?" waiting to see the expression on Kaz's face, "Faack the Japanese language! Yeah!"
Meanwhile Elita had been making her paces, keeping in the shadow of the crowd. The place was teaming with Japanese mob; with a couple of quick stabs she could change a broad portion of Yakuza operations. Fortunately it wasn't a part of her assignment, or at least Tricell hadn't asked her to.
Climbing up into a dead space behind a tower of speakers, blinded by darkness and sound, she watched over the bouncing crowd and kept trace over every new face that entered through the front doors. Several other high rollers had arrived, each with their own posse. Many of the hitmen stood out, a large dark man with a head full of dreadlocks, one female had half her hair shaved with the other side straightened almost stiff.
This were the life Kazuhiko would inevitably end up becoming a part of, whether he liked it or not. It was either do or die, no time for debate.
Elita switched in to Kaz's frequency, listening in on the conversation.
"So... Kaz," Fumisato licked his finger and snubbed out the burning end of his cigar, "Business. I mean you're probably wondering why you're here, but it's business per request," clicking ash off of his thumb, "Now, I run a very delicate goods trade here in Japan. The sort of important crap for times like these. If I can't meet demands then people ain't gonna wanna buy from me," he shrugged, "So I get a lot of stock in," he leaned back into his seat, "Problem is I need somewhere to keep it all..."
"There are currently 18 separate PMCs in Tokyo alone. 18! For marshal law? F*ck is up with that?! They're cracking down on businesses like mine, and I need a place to hide my goods," the man paused for effect, almost posing to show the obviousness of the situation, "There are several warehouses in your business. They're... also under your father's clan's territory," he shrugged, "Now, it'll be a permanent position, but for those warehouses on the docks I'd be happy to pay a considerable sum of money for. Not to mention a cut of the profit of course! Keeps us all in warm water yeah?" he laughed nearly maniacally, "What do you say, Mishima-san?" Fumisato held out his hands in the grandeur of the deal before clasping them over his fat belly in contempt.
|
|
Arkaym
Zombie Hunter
I'm awesome.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Arkaym on Jun 15, 2011 5:42:38 GMT -5
Kaz was suddenly grateful for the sunglasses Elita gave him. His eyes narrowed and filled with pure hatred. This man, Fumisato, disgusted him. His voice, his appearance, his manner and what he said to Kaz all made him feel sick to his stomach. But he had to play along, for now, for the sake of Tricell and his own life.
Turning his head slightly to the side, Kaz waved off Rain, and assumed he'd find a better concealed position. Enough business had been done in his lifetime for Kaz to know that keeping this potential client happy was important, but he also couldn't look too eager or Fumisato might try and cut himself a better deal. ''English is fine...'' Kaz muttered briefly for a second, but he then realised he'd have to try harder than that... He could only assume that his Father acted more like this in yakuza company, more like Fumisato, than he ever acted around Kaz himself. Taking a deep breath and sighing, both sounds lost in the steady music, he spoke again.
''Ah, you know my old man! Always doin' business, makin' money. Never has time for th' Yakuza anymore.'' Kaz paused as he pretended to consider what Fumisato said. He took a large gulp of his cocktail and showed no signs of reacting to the alcohol that he really wasn't used too. ''Yeah, those warehouses are practically empty anyways.'' He smiled twistedly and scratched the back of his neck. ''Thing is, that's a prime location there, these PMCs would have no clue, yeah? So let's talk figures. I'm guessin' your merch is pretty sensitive, 'nd sensitive merch means big yen.'' The smile stayed on his face, as he watched Fumisato carefully, also keeping one eye on the nearby guards.
Kazuhko's acting was impressive even himself.
|
|
|
Post by KR0R1C on Jun 16, 2011 10:16:35 GMT -5
Rain's insides curled as he heard their target tell him to "f*ck off". It was disrespectful. In his day a guests body guard was also a welcome guest, it was a courtesy, and feeling of comfort to the guest. This man obviously didnt care about the traditional ways, it didnt sit well with Rain.
He moved out of view of the table but nearby enough to respond if needed. He then began listening in on Mishima's signal, hearing everything that was going on. The kid wasnt so bad at feeding people bull sh*t. He may have actually been a pretty decent shark had things turned out differently.
While he waited Rain flagged down a waiter and took a drink off a tray he was carrying he didnt have much space to hide in the smaller second level, so he would just have to blend in as best he could.
|
|
|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 16, 2011 11:26:22 GMT -5
"Yes!" big, fat hands slapped down on the edge of the table, "Somebody who gets right down to it!" he pointed at Kaz and while laughing to his body guard who also shared the uncanny humor, "Our life blood. Yen," Fumisato sipped from his glass, lips smacking after quickly savoring the liquid, "Five hundred million yen is my offer," placing the palm of his open hand out to the air, "Of course, I'm willing to haggle with such a high price at stake," he smiled while feeling things sway his way.
Swilling the drink in his hands, "As for the profits..." looking up at Kazuhiko with a sharp eye, "90-10," speaking in percentages before quickly taking a sip of his drink, satisfied with himself.
Her threat tracers lit up with hostile movement, the rival gang now fully aware of Kazuhiko's presence and what he was doing. Numerous thugs started up the stairs going unnoticed by all the dancing hooligans who screamed and laughed in their faces; the Specter would have to deal with them.
<Rain. Contact. Heading up both spirals.>
The Ghost hopped off of the speaker she used as a look out, diving back into the crowd. A group of hitmen had just entered each registering as related members from the assault earlier. They split up to make things less conspicuous, all making their own way to the faux-loan shark sitting with a Yakuza mob boss just up stairs.
Chiseled jaw, big dark shades and long greasy hair. The hitman gently pushed his way through the drinkers and party goers looking to make his own way to the staircase. Just as he passed the bar a sharp pain hit him in the stomach, the cause for it unseen. Stumbling, he was helped onto a stool and gently rested against the wall at one end of the bench, dead on arrival.
Elita tailed another hitman, her knife already coated with the blood of a Yakuza hunter. This one seemed to harbor better perception, turning to look over his huge burlesque shoulders and sniffing the air before shrugging the sixth sense off and turning back to the staircase in front of him.
A flash of golden hair flicked in front of his eyes before the heel of a boot came in contact with his kneecap, bending his entire right leg 90 degrees the wrong way; scream going unheard over the beating music. Cold metal slid over the hitman's jugular silencing him indefinitely, pushed into the dead space under the foot of the spiral staircase.
Word must have been getting around that members of the kill squad were being snuffed out as several tagged targets had switched from their original objective to 'search and destroy'.
Taking his shades off for the sake of a better field of view, the hunter spotted a glint of carbon fiber blade in the hands of a slender woman, following her into the rave party. Unpleasantry of everybody being in your face while looking for a single person became disorienting; it didn't help when he spotted the woman in the corner of his eye, turning in time to receive a closed fist to the face.
Dazed and confused the hitman continued further into the crowd, slowly pushed and shoved to the deep end. As if in the eye of a storm, the mosh pit raged on from a disc jockey's rhythmic dub step; right in the Ghost's killzone. The muzzle of a suppressed firearm dug downwards into his left shoulder; a silent bullet tearing through his heart.
Elita had her hand hovering over the pistol's slide, catching the casing of the bullet as it popped out and tucking it into her jacket pocket. The widow nudged the dead man for him to fall face first onto the floor; body trampled by the ravers, too dosed or high to be concerned about what lay at their feet.
Several more hitmen made it to the spirals. The second floor was too casual for Rain to commit anything high profile in engagement as she had. Elita ascended the stairs herself to assist.
|
|
Arkaym
Zombie Hunter
I'm awesome.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Arkaym on Jun 16, 2011 14:14:34 GMT -5
Kaz smirked once again when Fumisato spoke his figures. ''90-10... That works for me, yeah, that works alright, but...'' For a second, Kaz began to realise that he was not really acting anymore; this was just another business deal. ''Five hundred mil, that is paltry. Don't you realise how happy you should be that your getting these warehouses at all? Such valuable space, dozens of potential buyers. Five hundre' million yen is just peanuts. I was thinkin' more... 750. Heck, if you can offer 800 then we can close this deal here and now...''
Kazuhiko lay back in his chair, confident and successful. That was how he'd been taught to be, and now it was how he viewed himself. ''After all, I'm sure such a respectable member of the Yakuza like yourself can afford that. Unless... Perhaps these warehouses are just out of your league?'' A one-sided grin settled on Kaz's face as he finished talking, satisfied with the sort of speech that ought to really annoy a member of the Yakuza. After all, this deal worked both ways for Kaz. If Fumisato got annoyed and cancelled the deal, then Kaz had opposed Tricell like he wanted too. If Fumisato agreed, Kaz got a nice chunk of money for Mishima Industries, though he might keep some for himself to keep this deal a little more off-the-record.
|
|
|
Post by KR0R1C on Jun 17, 2011 11:49:11 GMT -5
Rain began moving as soon as he heard the ghost's notice of his oncoming 'guests'. He moved into the crowd of people, as he slipped his batons into the sleeves of his coat. Rain made his way to the stairs and waited till the first 3 passed him by. As the last came upon him, the specter shoved his blade directly into the man's heart. He pulled the thugs coat tight over the hole in his chest and then sat him at the bar so he looked like any other drunk with a hang over.
The next two went down simply. Rain approached them from behind and quickly shoved his blades into the soft spot at the base of the skull, severing the medula oblongata, causing their bodies to instantly go limp. He then quickly shoved the bodies under an empty table. He then lunged for the last thug, who must have sensed his approach. He turned just in time for Rain the connect his knuckles to the bridge of his nose. He then dragged him off to the bathroom before finishing him off and leaving him in a stall.
Rain stood at the mirror and straightened up his suit before returning to the crowded room.
[orange]<We're clear up here. How are things looking below?>[/orange]
|
|
|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 20, 2011 11:09:05 GMT -5
Fumisato nearly popped out of his seat, mouth frowning as his originally beaming demeanor suddenly vanished, "Nothing is out of my league," his bottom lip trembled, "Nothing!"
<I missed a couple of them.>
Bouncing up the stairs two at a time and violently pushing through party goers. Elita had lost sight of them, they would be well onto the top level now. She stopped once she met the foot of the last stair looking around; the two hitmen were likely to flank opposing sides of the warlords booth, likely working in synchronization. The white Ghost started to move through the crowded lounge.
<Can't see them. They could be anywhere...>
It was then out of the corner of her HUD the widow spotted a tag she had put down earlier, one of the killers mingled while moving across the balcony.
"700. And only 5 percent of the profit," the fat cat's face was slowly going red, aggravated from the insult; he pointed his finger at Mishima for the deal, only it looked more like he were accusing him, "Final offer."
<Press for a higher cut, Kaz.>
Buzzing into his ear; Elita over heard the whole deal, feverishly multitasking while trying to make sure nobody back stabbed the faux-loan shark.
Her cold hand firmly clasped over the knife which pig stuck into the assassin's spine, dexterity prevalent as her other hand snapped out and grabbed the hitman's glass of champagne before it could reach the floor.
Elita heaved the man over the railing, letting him fall to the rave floor below. High hands caught the dead body carrying him down towards the stage; everybody assumed he were a crowd surfer.
"One down," Elita whispered to herself in determination, hands tightly gripping the railing before she pushed away and entered the crowd again.
One of Fumisato's guards handed a small notebook computer to the man, already open. The lord of war span it around and pushed it over to Mishima, a dialogue box open for keying in acceptance of cash transfer. Then a piece of paper was pushed up beside it.
"Put your signature at the bottom," Fumisato re-lit his cigar and stuck it between his lips, "You don't want to mess with an offer like mine," he thwacked the gold plated zippo lighter onto the table and relaxed back while breathing out a puff of smoke, "Last person who did that ended up at the bottom of the Okutama lake," he smiled wryly.
<Kaz, relax for me.>
Elita buzzed through again. Following closely behind the last henchman.
<One of the Yakuza are moving straight towards you. Don't panic. Whatever you do, do not react to him in any way.>
Both of the killers had broken away from the crowd, a wide open patch of red carpet girting Fumisato's booth. Elita struggled to keep up with the quick paced assassin without making people aware of her.
It wasn't working. Heads began to turn at the irregular party-like movement occurring right next to the Yakuza warlord's booth. Elita felt her skin fizz at the attention beginning to doubt she would make it out of this without raising alarm. Her hand reached out and held the assassin by the shoulder; he started turning to look toward his shadow.
Even with closer inspection from a slow motion replay, one wouldn't be able to convict the widow of ever stabbing the man with a knife. She spoke in fluent Spanish, "~Ooh, darling, I think you've had a bit too much to drink tonight. Ey?~" Elita had her arm over his shoulder, hand to his stomach where the knife rested unseen under shirt and sleeve, "~C'mon, Kenji. Sit down,~" his own stumbling of the final moments he spent alive helped the Ghost carry him across the floor to the bar, people started returning to their own business.
Just as she set him down the assassin took his last breath. Elita lied him down on the bar, "~Pardon me,~" she bowed before disappearing back into the crowd.
<We're clear.> a sigh followed sitrep to the Specter.
|
|
Arkaym
Zombie Hunter
I'm awesome.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Arkaym on Jun 20, 2011 14:04:55 GMT -5
Kaz spread his hands wide, an expression of dissapointment on his face. ''Fumisato...'' He informally addressed the Yakuza member. This was the smallest form of revenge he'd get, really, for the Yakuza dealing with his Father. Screwing them over in turn in a deal. Small revenge, but still a little satisfying. ''We agreed 10 percent. That was an agreement, you can't go back on that! Also, threatening me really wont work...'' He smirked once again.
As he went to continue, Elita buzzed in about an advancing assassin. He had to admit, he was a little worried, despite his training. Kaz had been far too close to death recently, dying now in front of this Yakuza member that sickened him to the stomach would just be shameful. He did not react to the advancing hitman, but his muscles tensed and his tone became edgier. ''I know it has been some time since you dealed with my Father, so I'll forgive you for being out of touch, but... We are a growing company. Hell, we own a couple of PMCs now.'' He lied through his teeth expertly.
''Killing me off would bring several armies down on you like a brick to the face, your business would be crippled. People know I'm here, Fumisato.'' He removed his sunglasses and looked down at the notebook computer, then at the paper. ''...15 percent. I'm afraid it has gone up to fifteen.'' He looked up again, still smirking.
|
|
|
Post by KR0R1C on Jun 21, 2011 11:09:25 GMT -5
Rain caught a glimpse of Elita at the bar disposing of a body the same way he had. He then recieved the all clear sign. Deciding to return his focus on Mishima he listened closely to the deal he was cutting. He was doing a decent job but that last front would need some re-enforced. He approached the booth and the bouncers recognized him this time by simply nodding in his direction.
Once in their view he bowed. [orange]"Pardon me."[/orange] He leaned in toward Mishima and spoke quietly but not enough that the others wouldnt be able to faintly hear him. [orange]"Just a reminder you have a meeting with Captain Austerlitz in half an hour."[/orange] He pulled the name from somewhere in his memory, using it to fill in the lie about the PMCs. Hopefully that help get their point across, and wrap things up. He then politely bowed once more as he left the booth.
The specter snatched a drink off a passing waiter's tray and moved into the crowd.
|
|
|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 21, 2011 11:31:29 GMT -5
Almost barking through his teeth, "Fine!" Fumisato slammed his open palm onto the document, demanding the Mishima boy to sign it already, "15%, 700 million, nothing more," he snorted once Rain had returned to the booth, turning his face away and resting an arm across the couch in egotistical relaxation; he power spewed a plume of smoke from his mug.
Elita nodded at the end of the arrangement, pleased. She had returned to the shadows atop one of the speakers, sitting on the edge and looking down on the field of flashing colours.
"Sign the f*cking paper. Then get the f*ck out of my club," the fat cat tched while staring Kazuhiko down with malevolent eyes. He signaled to one of his bodyguards, who from there signaled for the trophy girls of before to return; both climbing into the booth, and one of them climbing under the table.
A number of foreign looking people had entered; burly, Russian looking. Elita licked her lips, figuring they were just some international posse ready for some of the Tokyo nightlife. Then one of them pulled out an LMG.
The crystal flare of exploding muzzle gas stood out like extreme over exposure as the machine gunner fired into the dancing crowd. It was almost surreal being at the point where the gunfire couldn't even be heard; and what did make it through noise wise sounded as if it were coming from the music.
<Rain, get Kaz out of here.>
By now the faux-loan shark would have had to have signed the paper. Business was done. Elita crouched and aimed carefully at the gunner, popping him in the head. Too many innocents were being killed for what their likely goal were. The rest of the posse split, each drawing an SMG of their own and finding cover after watching their heavy weapons expert perish in front of them.
One of Fumisato's guards stormed off. The crowd on the second floor were still slightly oblivious to what were going on at the first, a couple of people looked over the railing to see what was going on.
"Seems you brought some friends," Fumisato cackled, indifferent about the storming Ruskies, "It was a f*cking pleasure doing business with you."
|
|
Arkaym
Zombie Hunter
I'm awesome.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Arkaym on Jun 21, 2011 12:12:38 GMT -5
Kaz signed the paper, happy both with the deal and the Yakuza member's reaction. Ready to leave, he noticed a bit of a commotion, and Fumisato mentioned something about 'friends', although Kaz was not listening. He rose from his seat and pushed past the bodyguards, approaching the railing that some people were peering over.
Russians. With guns. What was this, an action movie? At first, it didn't really concern Kaz. He was on the second floor, and had enough training to use a window as a comfortable exit. Perhaps he could shoot Fumisato on the way. But, something concerned him. Elita. For all her killing prowess, she was human, and Kaz did not want her dying on his watch.
Drawing his Taurus, much to the shock of the partygoers next to him, he aimed the single gun carefully from the railing and shot one of the Russians, his head just visible from Kaz's position. Turning quickly, he took out another Russian. Finally, some action he was a part of. A few of the Russians spotted Kaz, realised what he was doing, and turned their SMGs to him, able to fire up at him fairly comfortably even from cover.
Swearing under his breath, he ducked behind the reinforced glass of the railing, bullets hammering behind him, threatening to break through and slaughter him. By this point, Fumisato had probably realised these guys were not Kaz's friends. This did not bother Kaz in any way. Rain and Elita might be desperate to ensure his safety, but Kaz was enjoying himself. Escape was not something on his mind.
This was what he revelled in, memories flashed back of taking out guards at Arklay Dam when he travelled briefly with Chrys. The contest of power, of supremacy, caused him to smirk every time a bullet hit a Russian skull, brain matter bursting over the pristine nightclub tables. This was a battle Kaz was winning, due to superior training and a much better position.
|
|