(RPC, don't God-Mod too heavily- I apologise for when I do it, just be careful- I don't want to throw Svetlana into that position. I have worked around bits of it, but as you can see, I do want to work things differently. Spectre can do as he pleases however :D )

Svetlana sat heavily in the front, as Spectre took the boat in, as they surged towards the coast. She checked the Groza once more, as they headed to the dock,s Spectre aiming for a shadowy part of the dockland. Throwing a grappling hook, Svetlana ordered to stop the boat, as she clambered upwards, keeping the boat stationary, as she checked her NVGs.
"Careful now. You stay safe." She said, as he moved quick, herself headed in his direction, towards the skyscraper. They were out of the docks quickly, sticking to the shadows, as Svetlana moved towards the building.
"Okay, Iceman, activate the EMP." He said, as she checked the rifle, aware that at midnight in a place, she had to move quick and stay in the dark, to avoid any detection. The groundfloor went dark, as Spectre was out of sight, as Iceman mentioned, as she went through the gate, the silent CS5 Iceman had making a mess of the targets. She moved exactly where he told her to, aware that while she had a good stealth, you don't hide 7"5 of Russian female easily. The front guards were gone, the two security guards dead and hidden, at their posts.

She threw herself over a crate, through an open window, falling straight onto a man inside the lobby, who was looking at a light. She practically came down rear first onto the man, as his muffled screams weren't coming out as easily.
"Fuck me..." She said, taking her Spetsnaz Machete and ramming it into his temple, as she then backed off, moving off the man as she moved through the darkness of the lobby, the power still out. She bounded into the lifts, as the power came back on, Svetlana cursing. Punching the hatch above, her fist connected well, as she then clambered up, out and over the cover. Grabbing a hold of the cable, she sighed, as she knew what was next. Thirty stories of pulling herself up. This was what she worked out for. Every pull was agonizing, by the time she was at the 25th storey, but this was needed. The lifts were still dead, thankfully- Svetlana didn't want to get hit, not by something like that at least.
"Iceman, have the crash mat set up, I'm nearly in position. Spectre, you better find what you are looking for, or else we'll have to deal with quite a lot of Indians that won't like me, or Imran for that matter." She said bitterly, clambering upwards, just pissed off he had run off. 

Pulling herself up one last time, she exhaled, as she then took out her Machete, and rammed it into the door with one hand, the Groza in the other, She levered the door, hanging onto the lift cable with her legs, in a particular jamming fashion. One of the guards screamed, as she opened up through the crack, the man coming down as she widened it with the blade of the Machete, taking out another with her Groza, seated tightly in one hand, doing the work. This was an assault rifle, to most. To her 7"5, muscled arm, it was a PDW. The stock was the only reason it had any substantial bearing. She threw herself through the crack, rolling as she moved through, the windows of the skyscraper exposed but good if Iceman wanted to shoot.
"Spectre, two minutes! I have our exfil point secured, I'll clean up the adjacent rooms!" She yelled over the comms, moving full burst, as she slid behind cover of a sofa, this being some sort of conference room of sorts. A bar was in the next one. The fuck was this place, she thought to herself, as she moved from cover, to up onto the table, almost running on it as she took out three contacts at the room, taking a round to her kevlar vest. It didn't stop her. She slid a new magazine in, charging like a bull, as she hit cover, diving before another security detail opened up on her. A single 5.45 round to the head did the job, the man collapsing in a heartbeat, as she chuckled. Moving back to the room she had entered, she heard the elevator ping.
"Hmm...time to see what I can do." She said to herself, as she put down her Groza, stacking up at the door, aware that even if this was a SWAT team, they wouldn't stand much chance.

The elevator doors opened, and the four man security detail rushed out. She let them pass, as the last one out screamed. The punch was instantanious, and so sharp, it broke his jaw, knocking him the fuck out. One tried to turn the MP5, but she kicked him violently, then sending another aggresive counter-attack on the second-in-command's shove with his gun. She practically plucked it from his hands and shot him in the feet, then spraying the leader to pieces, smashing a few windows, as the clip dried out. She kicked the jaw man's neck, as she approached the man on the floor, scrambling for his pistol. He barely got it, and fired one round into Svetlana's chest, the kevlar taking another round, as she lept on him, like a cougar, before pulling her balaclava off. Her hair covered her from security.
"You get a special treatment. It will be long." She said, as she moved up, knocking the pistol from his hands, as she then sat her whole weight onto his neck. It snapped within a few seconds. She needed a name for this move, she thought to herself. The Russian...hmm, too indescript. Oh, The Nice Way Out? Maybe that. But either way, it took the poor bastard a little longer to die, as she was aware that the rest of this storey was going into overdrive, with this alarm going off. Smashing the window they needed, she crouched, holding her Groza up with her second to last mag, waiting on Spectre to come with what he found. And hopefully, just as planned, that crash mat would be there.

----

Imran's Exoskeleton was hard to tell, it didn't seem like he wore it. Neither did it do amazing tricks, not right now at least. But what it did do, was mean that he could run as fast as he could with bare skin, while carrying enough munitions to take on most threats. An MBT LAW launcher, that could defeat most armored targets, avoiding Trophy and countermeasure systems, a Mk48, that had virtually no recoil and 200 rounds a pop, and the M32, that could turn a target to paste. And carrying that would burden a soldier down, reduce even Imran, a well built Sikh, to a slower pace. He was reactive, fast moving and most of all, the Exoskeleton gave him arm strength that could really tear apart an enemy. He wondered about a better visor system and a possible drone system to implement, but he didn't know when and how it would come about. It wasn't his issue. His UCP/blue digital camoflage sat well on him, alongside the helmet, tucked atop his crushed Turban, as he moved upstairs, up to the warehouse with the others, They were leaving very shortly.

Stepping out into the cold, he saw Antoine and Howard rush past, bringing a chuckle to Imran's face. He saw Domineco walking slowly, with a purpose, smirking as he knew what this meant, moving to the main building with a purpose. He pulled out his MP412 REX, keeping it in his right hand. He fired one shot after another at Domineco, smirking as he saw he didn't even flinch. He was firing .357 ammunition that could physically stop a bull. And it didn't do squat.
"That shit is good. You know my .357 could floor a charging horse. I don't want to question where you got it from...but I assume it has something to do with a friend of a friend being indebted to the Caporegime." Imran said, tucking a new set of rounds into the MP412, nodding.
"We leave in about twenty minutes. I don't know how you'll go for..well, business while you're in that thing, because the flight is about three hours. I hear Svetlana has a way around it, but she never tells." He said, chuckling, Imran shaking his head. There had to be a way, but it never logically added up. Domineco may not have been as tall as the resident Russian heavy, but he was significant in size none the less, and his suit looked just as bullet-resistant. 
"Things haven't changed much. Japanese girl shipped out recently, we have a new pair, out in Mumbai. They're getting their feet wet with Svetlana. I mean, so long as there's no blowback, which I'm sure Svetlana always makes sure there isn't, then I am fine. That Iceman kid, he won't last long however. I like his potential, but something feels off. He hasn't got that spark that Spectre has. Perhaps the latter outshines the former. But I always expect standards to be met. You know Domineco, Bjorn was efficient, but sidetracked. Now you, you know how to get things done. And even if I don't agree with what it is you do...I very much agree that you are effective at that." He said, aware that at any moment, if Domineco wanted, he could snap him in two, even in this thing. There'd be resistnace, but Dom wasn't weak. The lift stopped, as they were on the residential level, with their rooms.
"I never introduced you to your place. Kept it fairly the same, you can furnish it a bit better. You should be able to fit through the door just in the suit, just check things over man." Imran said, as they stepped off the industrial lift, the weight easing as Dom's weight went.