"Fair enough." Joe shoved his gun back into its holster, and pulled his jacket over it. "Alright, Gabe, you first. Hit the area as far back as you can, away from the doors. We want to route everyone out. You kill anyone... and I will kill you. Got it?" Joe strode the the door and spun the deadbolt open. "After you, trumpeteer." His reference seemed to hit home in his rival. 

"Myztii, I'm sorry about the lie. I just wanted to keep you out of legal trouble, just in case. Now, let's get you home. Step one." Joe put a smoke grenade in his hand, behind his back, and looped his opposote index finger around the pin. "Let's get this over with." The metamorphosing caterpillars in his stomach reminded him of the time he followed his Ranger team into a Hisbollah-controlled house, armed with nothing but his camera, loaded and chambered with 35mm ammunition. 

Life hurts sometimes.