Reaper trained his binoculars on the scene ahead of him as his boat quietly coasted ever closer. Both the binoculars and the boat weren't worth the nuyen he'd forked over, but if he was right about this payday, it was small potatoes- besides, he needed a way to get in... discretely. More discretely than just kicking down the front door, anyway. Of course, for him, "kicking" was somewhat of a misnomer.

...He was getting distracted. He concentrated for a moment, closing his eyes, as a bank of fog slowly started to rise from the water around him. A tad suspicious, to be sure, but hopefully he was far enough away that by the time someone noticed, they wouldn't be able to point him out, specifically. He grasped the handle of the machete under his coat. A useless gesture, but it made him feel better as he got closer to his target. 

[color=crimson][i]Somewhere in the warehouse, I think they said.[/i][/color] He raised the binoculars to his eyes again, looking for a decent point of ingress. [color=crimson][i]Maybe if I set a fire somewhere away from the warehouse. Ought to distract the goons enough that I can sneak in and get to the warehouse. Hell, might even take out the files and ledgers and drek. That... counts as altering them, yeah?[/i][/color] He smiled at his plan- it was a decent one, at least, for how short a time he'd been given to come up with it. He usually had a lot more time to think things over, but his Johnson wanted it done tonight.

[color=crimson][i]Must be a busy old bastard.[/i][/color] He was close enough to see the warehouses with his naked eyes now, even through the fog. Moreover, he was close enough to [i]hear.[/i]

It suddenly occurred to him that there was a lot more ruckus in this place than there should be. And it didn't sound like the usual busy sounds you'd hear in a place like this. It sounded like... gunfire.

[color=crimson][i]What the Siegfried?[/i][/color] The sounds only intensified the closer he got to his target, and he rolled his eyes. [color=crimson][i]Of[/i] course, [i]someone got here first. Gods dammit, Henrik.[/i][/color] He hunkered down in his boat, hoping the fog he'd generated was doing its job properly enough. He had some adept talents, sure, but he couldn't just dodge bullets on a whim. Arrows, maybe, but not too many people used those, anymore. He gripped his machete's handle a little tighter, narrowing his eyes as he prepared to disembark.

[color=crimson][i]Okay. Let's see what we're up against, and just how fucked I am if I want to get this run finished...[/i][/color]