It was a busy night, but really, it always was at the Casino. Which was probably good, considering more people meant more money, but it also meant more work, and even worse, it meant dealing with customers. The loud clash of coins accompanied by the spinning of slots and groans of losers filled the air, creating almost a happy atmosphere. But then again, no one was really happy when they were losing this much money. Everything seemed fairly normal, or about as normal as Dusty Roads was, with the workers trying their best to keep the not-so-normal things under control.

Usually this wasn't too big of a problem, any sort of confrontation happened maybe once or twice a week, if at all. However, after a few deals went sour, connections had become unsteady, to say the least. Of course, it really was more complicated than that, but details were a funny thing. Besides, no one has time to sit and listen nowadays. However, at least two people had pulled guns today, aside from those who belonged to the Casino, and a group of shady guys had stepped into the back to talk to the owner and still hadn't reappeared yet.

Even the customers had noticed the suspicious rise in tension. None dared to say anything about it, but it was certainly obvious. Shifty eyes, perhaps a nervous gulp and a too-tight clutch on their money. Actually, it was fairly surprising people still came at all, considering the risks were a lot higher than usual. Perhaps it was the fucking huge gambling addiction most of the city of Las Vegas seemed to have, or perhaps it was because Dusty Roads had become one of those places you just had to visit once. dusty Roads was proud to say it had never lost a customer to date, but given the circumstances... Their perfect record might not remain so clean anymore.

~

The gun in her pocket seemed even heavier than normal to Charlotte. Sure she had used to before, there was no doubt, but before she barely had to pick it up once a month. After all, the Roulette Table tended to have a little less problems than most other tables. Nowadays, she practically had to work with one hard dealing, and the other on the trigger. And yet, today of all days she was particularly on edge, drawing her weapon even when the trouble wasn't at her own position. Dammit, she was a professional wasn't she? Getting scared by something so petty was below her, no one had ever died under her watch. But, she had good reason, sorta. The situation was complicated or whatever, at least, that's what they'll tell you. All she knew was things were just going to get a hell of a lot worse.

She shouldn't be thinking about these things, really, she had customers to take care of. With a small smile, and a spin of the wheel she felt right at home again. This. This is where she belonged. After a good four years working here, Charlotte considered herself damn good at her job. Getting the customer to play just one more round was her specialty. A smile and flattery could go a long way.

And just as she was getting into her normal groove, bang! Her glance was directed upwards to the main entrance of the Casino. Great, another stick-up. They just always had to be loud about it didn't they? It was one man, holding a gun in each hand, and a mask covering his face. Or, that's what she thought. Another loud gunshot came from a different part of the Casino, and then another. So great, they were surrounded? Five, she counted, five men with guns, and possibly more still in disguise. Fucking great. But they were all accustomed to this, and just like every other worker there, a hand reached into her pocket for old faithful. That made two times today that she and drawn her gun, and Charlotte definitely wasn't happy about it. But what was a girl to do? After all, Dusty Roads was some sort of special.

Jon looked around the room nervously, he couldn't help but start flicking his knife open and close under the table whenever he had the chance to. Something seemed different abut Dusty Road's today, they were getting held up more and more and nobody really knew why. He slid his knife into his pocket and delt another hand to the 2 people that were at his table, He had learned to count cards slightly and so would deal them bad hand's and only let someone win every now and again so it wouldn't look to fishy that everyone lost almost all the time. This wasn't one of those time's, a old man had set down at his table and had lost all his money before coming back again after apparently visiting an ATM. Jon almost felt bad for the man so he had started to let him earn some of his money back, he delt the cards. An ace to the man and a 7 to the younger gentleman who kept glancing around like he was waiting for something. He was the reason Jon kept fiddling with his knife, something just didn't seem right about him, "Come one 21...." he called out and laid down the old man's next card which was a queen. "Winner, winner chicken dinner." he said always having liked the catchphrase that blackjack dealer's used when someone got 21.

Jon dealt the young guy a 5 and he didn't seem to happy about his hand, especially when Jon already had a 10 showing so he had to hit or take his chances. Jon guessed that his other card was a 10 though he only had a guess to that, it was hard learning to count when you weren't trying to get yourself 21 though luckily Jon had gotten somewhat good to wear he could do it when he really needed to and really didn't like the person or they seemed to shady otherwise he could just get a probability that his hand was what he wanted . Just then Jon heard gunshot's coming from the other side of the casino and he drew his gun instantly. Hearing another one he turned around and saw the man he had been dealing to stand up and he had apparently pulled a mask out and put it on before shooting the gun in the air, the man was aiming the gun at Jon now. Jon got a scared look on his face for show and dropped the gun, he looked around to see what was going on and how many men were actually in the Casino robbing them. This was going to be a long day with how it seemed to be going, he thought.

Devon liked his station at the smoking lounge, it was quite, peaceful, and uncomplicated. Now days, he liked it even more. With all the tension rising and several bad deals, Devon was getting anxious. Something was shifting in the works, someone wanted them gone. More so than usual. Today had been going relatively slow, most of the patrons were out on the floor loosing and making money in unequal ratios. Very few had actually stopped to have a smoke and a drink, which was ok since Devon didn't really need the tip.

The chime went off, signalling a new customer. Well, two actually. These men sent an uneasy feeling through Devon, they had those shifty eyes he had grown accustomed too from his years before Dusty Road. These men were up to something, but you can't do nothing without proof so Devon treated them like any other patron. With his usual gruff and relaxed voice, Devon said "Either of you boys need a drink? Or are you lookin for a smoke?" As he pointed out his selection. The two men looked at each other then at him. The older of the two just bought a cigar while the younger one got bourbon, on the rocks. Looking them over, the younger man started to nurse his drink. The glass rattled against his teeth as he drunk deep from the glass. In contrast the older man leisurely took a long drag from the cigar, savoring the flavor before exhaling. If anything were to happen, the older man would be the threat.

Just as that thought finished gunshots rang from across the floor, then more. Taking a big sigh Devon started to reach under the counter when he heard the click of a hammer being drawn back. Looking at the two now, they were putting on masks and pointing guns at him. The other patrons quickly vacated the lounge as the two men drew near. They told him to open the register and give them the cash which was dumb, most of it was chips. But not being an idiot Devon complied, putting the money in the bag they had given them. The young guy, eager to leave reached across the counter to get the bag. His mistake. With one swift motion, Devon grabbed the guy and pulled him across the bar. Twisting the gun out of his hand, Devon now had the old guys buddy hostage and the stare down commenced. Neither one ready to give up just yet.

Cool on the outside, alert and slightly apprehensive on the inside. That's pretty much exactly how Seth felt at the moment, and even for the past couple of weeks. Of course, he never let it show, but you can't hide your feelings from yourself. You can suppress them and or keep them from showing through, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. Yes, Seth picked up on the tension, but for a while it was just business as usual and Seth didn't even need to hide his emotions. Now he was actively disguising them on a regular basis, which wasn't much of a task for him, but it was also one he didn't usually have to undertake.

Regardless, his cool was unbroken, and he was still able to clearly read the hints his five card draw players were showing. One of the players, sporting an all black three piece suit with a white tie, put down a couple of cards and another, in a Hawaiian shirt, put down just one. Seth took the cards and handed out their replacements. He eyed them carefully, noting minor muscle movements on both of their faces. Whatever they had, they both got their wish. It would be interesting to see whose hand was better. Another player put down three cards and Seth passed back another three. He folded a second later. One player had folded at the beginning and the final player hadn't asked for any more cards. "All in," said the suit as he pushed two thousand dollar chips and three hundreds into the pot. "Call," replied the Hawaiian. The last guy didn't have many chips left and decided to fold. Down to the last two. "Alright gentlemen, show your hands." The two showed their cards. One had a full house, and the other a four of a kind.

"Fuck!" Understandably, the suit wasn't very happy as the Hawaiian shirt guy took $6,100 worth of chips. "Well played on your part," Seth said to the Hawaiian as he got up.

"Going to cash in?" he asked. "Ohh yeah!" the man replied eagerly, taking his winnings and walking towards the chip counter. The suit got up and made for the exit, clearly frustrated at the events which transpired. Seth gestured to the three remaining players. "You three care to stay?" he asked, but then he noticed something. one of the players, just across from him, had been showing signs of anticipation. Seth picked up on a slight tell when he showed up, though he figured it was simply excitement in expecting winnings. No, this was different, this man was expecting something specific to happen rather than hoping for good winnings. Seth took a moment to check his phone, using it as a cover to take his CZ-75 out of his pocket and set it on his lap.

The first shots went off a moment later, and Seth was able to put two bullets in the man's chest before he even finished pulling a cheap-as-rocks pocket pistol out of his pocket. The other two had made a beeline for a nearby fire exit as Seth flipped the table for cover. He checked the would-be assailant over, starting with his pistol, a Cobra Arms .380. Truly a marvelously cheap pistol, he took it out and stuffed it in his back pocket. "Sorry, but you really should do a better job of keeping a secret," he said as the man breath his last few breaths.

Thinking fast, Seth glanced around before quickly removing his upper clothes, replacing them with the man's Hawaiian shirt, then pulled out the mask and slid it on over his face. He stuck the CZ in his belt, yanking the .380 out of his pocket and firing a couple of rounds at the floor. He got up a minute later, clutching one of the spots where blood had soaked the shirt and blundering towards the next nearest masked fellow. As it turned out, the closest one was currently pointing a gun at Jon's face, and Seth feigned being in serious pain as he approached the two. "Asshole shot me in the gut! Motherfucker!" Seth grunted, giving Jon a sideways glance. He got their attention, but only time would tell if his facade worked.

Javier woke up in the manager office, a half drunk bottle of rum near him with his loaded .44 nearby. He rubbed his eyes has he equipped the .44 into his waistline. Javier looked onto his desk, a stack of 1,000 dollars with 20-30 black poker chips. A few empty beer bottles scattered the room. Javier looked at the mail left by the receptionist, mostly a few emails, shady letters and bills. However there was one that stood out. Javier opened the Red Letter, the letter stated that an important guest would be staying at Dusty Roads, with a few of his entourage for a movie screening. "Shit... , easy money yet a big break. Javier then decided to post something on the underused bulletin board, a rare staff meeting.

Charlotte didn't consider herself as someone who swore a lot, but shit. There happened to be a lot more of them than she originally thought. Like dominoes tipping over, more and more masks seemed to be popping out of the crowd. Nothing they couldn't handle, probably, they had all gone through this drill many times before. No need to panic right? Yeah, sure. Gunshots rang throughout the room, and she was certain that most of them belonged to her fellow workers, based on the collapsing of bodies she didn't recognize. As she drew her 96, two of the four patrons in front of her stood up, pulling a mask over their faces and reaching for their weapons.

She scowled, she knew something was off about them, shifty eyes an restless hands should have told the whole story. Before the first one could aim at her, she sent a bullet right between his eyes, and another at his chest for good measure. His friend, older but not wiser, made the mistake of watching the whole scene instead of taking action. As soon as he seemed to realize what was happening, he bolted. The other patrons had escaped sometime after the first masked man made his appearance, hopefully they hadn't gotten shot, Dusty Roads had a reputation to uphold, after all.

She hopped the counter, eyes trained on the escaping crook, heading for the nearest door, or even better, an exit. Glancing down at the pistol, she decided she did have enough bullets. But why waste them? Besides, she wanted some answers first, better to get it sooner than later. Instead of shooting, Charlotte reached into her boot, drawing a folded knife. She flipped open the blade and flung the weapon at his ankles, causing the man to crumple to the ground and scream in pain. As soon as she caught up to him, she twisted the knife and withdrew it, instead placing her foot on the open wound and grinded it harshly. Sure, it was cruel, but at least it meant he wouldn't be escaping anytime soon.

"Tell me who you're working for." she demanded, pointing the gun between his eyes. When the man, although visibly shaking, refused her, she drew her foot back and kicked his injured ankle. A scream. And yet he still refused. Charlotte furrowed her brow, beginning to become annoyed. Who was good at torture? Or maybe they would have to save this one for later. Whichever one, they were going to get the information. A quick blow to the temple, and the man was out cold. Producing a ziptie from her pocket (those things were always handy to carry around), she bound the man before glancing around her. It looks like there was still some people to be taken care of.

Jon starred at the man holding him hostage at gunpoint and he held up his hand's wondering how he would be able to get to his pistol, or better yet his knife which was in his pocket. He watched as another man in a mask came over holding his side and saying that someone had shot him, the man aiming the gun at him turned which was the only thing Jon needed him to do, he quickly reached into his pocket and flicked the blade open before tossing it at the man. It landed sticking out of the man's neck, severing the major artery which was causing blood to squirt out. Jumping over the counter he pulled his knife out and looked at the man who had come over saying he was shot, he chuckled. "Thank's Seth." he said having recognized the man's voice since he had the table right next to John's. "Please tell me you are not really shot though." he said bending down and pulling the mask off of the man.

Jon liked Seth's idea of blending in to get close to the other people and he quickly put on the mask, wiping the blood off of his knife onto the man's shirt he smiled and hid the knife in his coat again. Keeping the gun out and ready he scanned the room looking for anybody else that might need some help, it seemed everyone had at least 2 of these motherfucker's at their respective job's. Looking in the smoking lounge he saw that, the 2 people in there were at a standstill; Jon was wondering if he should go help when he felt a small pain shoot through his arm, looking down he saw a bullet had grazed him. He turned and saw that 3 other man hadn't been fooled by his mask and were aiming at him, Jon jumped sideways and landed behind the blackjack table for cover, he looked around wondering if they had noticed Seth or if he was still in disguise.

"I'm fine, thank you," Seth replied, taking a quick look around. He noticed that Devon had taken one of the men hostage and was staring down his partner, just as Charlotte subdued another. He spotted 3 others just as they turned and started shooting in his and Jon's direction, grazing Jon's arm and hitting Seth in the shoulder. The hit made him stumble backward and tumble gracelessly over the table Jon used for cover, landing hard on his upper back. "FUCK!" he yelled in pain as he dropped the .380 and clutched his shoulder, hissing in pain.

Another shot hit the floor inches from his head, making him jolt upward and position himself with his back against the table. "God, we're right in the thick of it, aren't we," he said, using his good arm to pull the CZ out of his belt and blindly return fire. After firing eight rounds, he pulled back. His hearing was somewhat dulled by the gunfire, but he heard someone screaming. "I think I got one," he said. The adrenaline rush helped to ease the pain in his shoulder, but it still hurt pretty badly. He was even unfortunate enough for it to be his dominant arm, forcing him to use his off hand. He grabbed the .380 and pushed it towards Jon while he tried to diagnose his injury. He pulled the shirt down, revealing the wound. He felt around it, trying to ignore the resulting pain. All he was able to tell was that the bullet had gone all the way through, exiting about a half inch above his shoulder blade. He was lucky enough no bones got hit, but it would still be a handicap for the duration of the shootout.

Seeing as his comrades had been hit, Devon decided to screw it and shot the older man in the face. Painting the wall behind him in blood, brains, and bone. As soon as that happened the man he was holding hostage started to resist once again, which was stopped easily enough with a bullet to the lower spine. Hopefully he didn't bleed out before they could get some information out of him. Shucking the now immobile man to the ground, Devon bent down and unlatched the trap door underneath his station and pulled out the big guns.

Taking out his trusted Benelli and loading it with slugs instead of the usual buck shot, Nathan left his station with a bang. Taking down the last masked bastard firing at John and Seth, Devon started to scan the area. He didn't see the guy behind him until he saw the garrote above his vision. Doing the only thing he could at the moment Devon placed one hand over his throat, catching the wire at the cost making a nasty cut along his fingers. Taking his right hand Devon pulled the trench knife out of his waist holster and stabbed the man in the gut, then again...and again. Finally the man collapsed, trying to hold his innards in, not having that Devon used the knuckle duster part of his knife to cave the mans face in.

Satisfied with his work and not seeing anymore men from were he stood, Nathan ripped a piece of his uniform and wrapped it around his injured hand. Walking over to Seth, Devon took out his personal flask and handed it to him and said, "Drink this, it'll make you feel better I promise." With that, Nathan went back to scoping the area for anymore goons, instead he found Charlotte. Walking up to her, Nathan did a once over and seeing as she wasn't hurt asked if they should team up and look for anymore stragglers.

Charlotte gave a last glance to the man on the floor. Hopefully, he wasn't strong enough to break those ties, but she wasn't too worried. Most people didn't have the strength shown in movies where the protagonist could rip through rope with ease. Well, now that he was out of the way, they had at least one hostage to refer back to. The wound his his ankle may hurt, but it most likely wouldn't kill him, as long as the bleeding stopped soon. As long as he stayed alive for another few hours, that would be fine. After all, when it was all over with, they had no real use for the man, he was most likely going to get shot once they dragged information from him.

Another look around her proved there were still some people left to gun down. Charlotte didn't bother to count, but she was sure it was significantly less than before. Well, speaking of that, the clean up process was probably going to be a hassle as well, one that she wasn't too particularly excited about. But that was after, she had to start to concentrate on the now. It looked like there was still some trouble around the slot machines. Of course, the place with the least supervision. At least at tables, there was one or more people behind the counter.

Devon had walked up to her, asking if they should team up. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," she said with a nod and a slight grin, "We should hit the area around the slots. It looks like there are still people to take down over there." She quickly folded her knife again and tucked it into her pocket before taking cover behind one of the penny slot machines. Two men stood on top of the machine, demanding money and chips from the nearby patrons. From the bulky look of their suits, it looked like these two were actually prepared with bulletproof vests. Either a headshot, or take out a leg and make them fall. "I got the one on the right!"

Jon watched as the bartender whose name he couldn't remember at the time came out with his shotgun and took care of the guy's that were firing at Seth and him. "Thanks." he said and watched as he tossed Seth a flask. Jon looked at the wound and saw it was a through and through, "i will look at it as soon as this is over, get you bandaged up." he said glad he had at least taken a couple of classes to become a doctor so it would come in handy. He stood up and aimed his pistol looking around knowing there was probably more men then that in hiding or places where he couldn't see them at this angle. Watching as Charlotte and "Decon." he whispered remembering his name right then, he watched as they ducked behind some penny slot's. He knew they could easily handle the men that were there having seen first hand them take down a couple of guy's with ease, he turned and jumped out of the way quickly as a man who had apparently been waiting for the right time jumped up and fired at him.

Jon jumped over the rail and pressed himself as close to the wall as he could, he had dropped his gun when he dodged the man. "Fuck." he said silently to himself. He didn't know what he could do, he decided to take the man out before he noticed Seth since Jon hadn't seen if he had moved or was still undercover. Sliding across the wall carefully he got to the table he had seen the man at and carefully peaked over the edge of the wall. Seeing the man was still looking for him and not paying attention Jon went a little farther down before going over the wall. Creeping over behind the man he wrapped an arm around his neck and locked his hand in the crook of his other arm starting to choke the man. Just then he felt a sharp pain to his rib's which caused him to let go, the man had elbowed him and pulled a knife looking at Jon like it was going to be easy.

The man thrust the knife forwards and in one quick motion Jon grabbed the man's wrist and slammed his shoulder against the man's elbow as hard as he could breaking the man's arm and causing him to drop the knife. The man tried to counter by kicking upwards but Jon was used to fighting 2 of his brother's at once and had grown fast, grabbing the man's leg he brought his elbow down on it with full force and dislocated it. The man screamed in pain and Jon tossed him over the rail making him slam headfirst into one of the penny slot's, "Shut the fuck up." he said before looking down and seeing he was bleeding. He had thought the man had elbowed him, seeing the blood start to spread on his shirt he realized he had been knifed and the adrenaline going through him had made him not notice. Jon ripped his shirt in half and tied it around his waist tight to stop the blood from flowing, he would do a better fix later.

That night Kira felt different. She wasn't into it. "Ma'am...ma'am.....MA'AM" Kira jerked her head up to see a man in front of her. I would like a screwdiver please. Kira went to start making the drink for the man when she started dozing off again. She brought the man a half made screwdriver with rootbeer filling the other half. "Look, is this Casino some kind of joke." The man said as he stormed off. There was a man with a black trenchcoat slipping away into the dark. Kira held her gun closely and followed. She saw the man start running so she turned around and there was a pistol pointed at her head. It was the man she messed up on. "You messed up the wrong man's drink." He said. "You pointed a gun at the wrong bartender." She said. She shot him in the stomach and walked away from his bleeding body.

"Devon," Seth corrected as Jon erroneously spoke the name, simultaneously bringing the flask to his mouth to take a swig of the alcohol. He identified it as whiskey once it hit his tongue and slid down his throat. Medicine wasn't his forte, but he knew whiskey could act as an ad-hoc disinfectant and poured a bit of it over his wounds. He even took off the shirt and tore off a part of it that wasn't bloody to use as a tourniquet, using his teeth to help cinch it down. He knew there couldn't be too many intruders left, but he kept his CZ at the ready just in case.

He began to ponder who would have organized such a large operation. This was somewhat less of a hack job than the last few attacks have been, and there was a good number more of them this time. Maybe it was a joint operation between two or more opposing mobs, or just a bunch of people who decided to try to rob the place. Whichever way it went, it meant bad news. The casino was starting to lose it's good reputation, and it's customers along with it. It wasn't good, and Seth had a feeling a storm was on the horizon, figuratively speaking.