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[i]Donny tensed up as the Rolls Royce approached, quirking an eyebrow at Kael as he did so as if to suggest he ready up for trouble. The hitman's half lidded eyes and wickedly arched brows suggested a limitless capacity for violence, lips pursed with anticipation. A cigarette smoldered at the corner of his mouth, the last one having been near imperceptibly replaced. Kael, being the little calculator he was, probably knew what that meant. Donny's right eye twitched as Ariett made calming motions at him, and for a moment he looked like he was going to go after her too for showing weakness... Only to grunt in admission a second later, his posture slackening as he seemed to shrug the malice off. The car rolled up, the window rolled down, the fellow inside scrutinized the group and began to speak. Donny interrupted him.[/i]

"Hawld awn, jus' a quick question. Haow manuh bluebirds does it take tuh sing?"

[i]Donny's left hand flickered out of his coat, a shadow of a blur. Unless the gentleman driving the Royce had the reflexes of a boxer and the instincts of a soldier, he'd scarcely be able to react to the small object being tossed through his open window, a hard, ovular thing which could easily roll under a seat. He'd probably have no idea what it even was until he saw Donny plug an index finger into each ear and curl into himself as he fell to the side, shoulders hunching up to cover his neck, which would be all the time it took for the explosive to detonate. Concussion grenades have a far smaller lethal radius than frags, but are no less useful. Perfect for minimizing collateral damage whilst clearing out small rooms or, say, a vintage automobile. The shock would pulverize the windows, force a smoky kinetic halo out of the ground around the car, and undoubtedly kill everyone inside. Of course the grenade could be tossed back out before the 2.5 second fuse expired, but that was assuming the passenger was as sharp and clever as a cat and that the device didn't land in an awkward spot. Why the sudden attack? Donny had his reasons. For one thing he didn't trust tinted windows. He also knew that he could check the bodies and car for information, and of course he already had someone to give them information. It just takes one captive to talk. Even if the folks in the Royce knew a few things the thug didn't, Donny wasn't in the mood for allowing anyone to approach so brazenly. If help were meaningful, he figured it could come in a far more modest and unsuspicious fashion. If Donny's assault went well, he'd deliver the punch line once everyone's ears stopped ringing.[/i]

"Only one."