[h3][b][i][color=Gray]The Dreadnaughts[/color][/i][/b][/h3][sub][@Mr Allen J][/sub][hr]“Now, for the fourth God damn time, has the plan finally fucking made it into your thick skull yet?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Geez, you know what old man? You could really tone it down with all the insults!”

“We're about to apprehend a fucking big Fiend, don't you start acting like a pussy now.”

“Nah man, seriously. It's really starting to get to me. You know, all I want is some of your–”

“Some of my what?” Washe interjected. “Some of my wallet? My social security? Because you're already draining away my fucking will to live on this damn planet.”

Grit's face twisted up in frustration. “No! Your-- you know what? Nevermind.”

Baron walked up behind the bickering two with two gas masks in hand. He had already been watching the two exchange jargon like this for past ten minutes, all the while NEST was busy waging an all-out war against one of the Fiend lieutenants. Against one person. Clearly a frontal assault wasn't going to work. That's why they had to lure Sulfur into a trap – NEST didn't know about their operations. Any hint of them working with someone else that was flanking them would ruin the whole operation. Unfortunately, internal conflict might jeopardize the mission before even were to that happen.

Honestly, as not just a psychologist, but also has one of the Dreadnaught's counselors, he was hoping that Grit would get whatever he had to say to Washe off of his chest. Perhaps that would settle some of turmoil storming on between these two's relationship.

“You should get it off your chest.” Baron said calmly to Grit as he offered him one of the gas masks he was carrying. “It's no good to keep everything pent up inside if it's only going to eat at you.”

He offered the other gas mask to Washe.

“It's no good.” Grit muttered as he began pulling the mask over his head. “The old man only cares about [i]the mission.[/i] Let's get this over with.”

Washe pulled the gas mask over his own head, rolling his eyes behind the tinted lens. “Just keep your head screwed on right so we don't fuck this up.”

“Well, I'll leave you two to it then.” Baron said, taking a few steps back. “If I'm not mistaken, I have myself a date with a certain NEST intelligence officer. Good luck.”

“You too, Zom.” Grit said waving his hand.

“Ring me once you've captured the lieutenant.”

“One step at a time, please.” Washe grumbled.

Once the three have finally parted ways, Grit and Washe began moving towards the sound of commotion. They finally stopped in between a t-intersection in an alleyway by some of the public storage units. Washe turned to face Grit and began speaking.

“Alright, one more recap: you're a Fiend mook. You're gonna run up to Sulfur, alert her to a safe escape route. These storage units have two doors: a back door and a front door, and the other side is completely cut off from the main road, so it makes it ideal for getting away. There is also a chance for civilians, so it makes complete sense to hide there. Lead her to [i]this[/i] storage unit. Sulfur is known to be very cautious, that's why she hasn't been caught yet. We're going to take advantage of that. Once she gasses the unit as a precaution, I'll spring the trap.”

“Clear.” Grit said.

Washe was slightly taken back. Only one word? No enthusiasm? Huh. Well it was about time.

“Alright, get going then.” Washe ordered.

Grit turned about and made a sprint through the alley, banking left towards the commotion erupting from the city in full Fiend gear. A risky move, considering the place was swarming with NG, police, and NEST agents. Looking up, he saw a silhouette across the sky. On top of a convenience store? That must've been their target. He hurried up the scaffolding ladder across the back of the building. Peering his head over the edge, he saw the back of their target and... oh, yeah, so their target [i]was[/i] a woman, wasn't she?

[i]For a druggy, she's got one hell of a butt.[/i]

The yellow gas in the area was disconcerting, but as long as he kept his gas mask secure, he should be alright. He finally pulled himself up to the top, his .50 BFR drawn in the air as though he was just taking part in the battle.

“'ey boss!” He yelled in his best school dropout loser voice. “I found me a good escape over 'long this way! We can lose the fuzz!”

[hr]

Meanwhile, Baron was heading someplace completely different. Much, much farther away. After all, there were stories about bullets that had missed their target flying far and high and, of course, they had to land somewhere. It'd simply be embarrassing if a man of [i]his[/i] composure who had endured so much and had built up such a career amongst the Dreadnaughts were to get caught up in something like [i]that.[/i] To had fallen at the hands of a stray bullet? No sir. But that wasn't just the only reason, however...

The man looked up at the logo above a building. “Sunny Delights Cafe'”. Supposedly at the nice end of town, and Baron looked down at a flashing neon sign saying “open”, “open”, “open” - over and over again in its metronome. Lihua Vuhong... a charming woman in her own right, perhaps more respectably deserving of the honesty that Baron was incapable of providing. As their intelligence officer, there was a lot to glean from this date. But at the same time...

That doesn't mean he can't enjoy himself here while he was at it.

He set his hand on the doorknob and let himself in, hearing the bells jingle as he entered the cafe's light-hearted atmosphere. A quick scan of the room let him catch the agent quickly, even amongst the clatter and crowd of this place. Popular, indeed. While talking about private matters might jeopardize NEST's security, there was also something to be said to let your words be drowned out amongst the chatter of everyday life. Vuhong just had to hope that nobody here would recognize her, or were enemies of NEST – provided she had any intention at all of sharing information.

Baron suspected it would be more difficult than that. She wasn't the intelligence officer for nothing, after all. As far as he knew, at least.

He paced his way through the crowd, with his braced leg somewhat dragging him behind – but despite that, seemed to weave his way through the crowd with abnormal ease and calm. He finally approached the table and gave Lihua a smile in greeting – he was dressed in his typical dress-suit, but unlike the salmon shirt that he wore beneath his jacket the other day, this one was a mint green, and the tie that went over it was tightly secure between it and his jacket.

“I must say,” Baron began, “the atmosphere in here sure is [i]something.[/i] It almost makes it feel like it's Christmas... in the middle of summer.”

He had to admit; when agent Lihua Vuhong was all dressed up, she looked fairly [i]stunning.[/i]