[color=ed1c24][center][h1]Nicholas Jones[/h1][/center]
[/color]

[color=ed1c24]“About time,”[/color] Nick grumbled, sitting up from the torn up couch with a yawn. The apartment was a mess – peeling wallpaper, trash scattered around, and a fair number of bullet holes in the walls and grimy furniture. He wrinkled his nose as he looked around the room. [color=ed1c24]“What a shithole,”[/color] he muttered to nobody in particular. Getting to his feet, Nick took out his Tommy gun, drumming his fingers across it. He glanced to the bathroom, which had a mirror in it, albeit slightly shattered. Not that he’d need to use it, though he wasn’t looking forward to the whining of some of the others when they didn’t get a chance at the target. Regardless, he took a shard that had fallen to the floor and pocketed it. Just in case.
 
The job was going to be quick and easy, just the way Nick liked it. He’d never seen the point of playing with his food – it had always been much more satisfying to end it with just a few bullets. Besides, he didn’t like to get blood on his suit. Nick also wanted to make sure to avoid civilian casualties. Not that it bothered him particularly when they got caught in the crossfire, but it was easier for everyone involved to get things done with no witnesses. Although judging from the state of the apartment complex, he wagered that it wasn’t exactly unusual for the residents to hear gunfire. [i]Feels just like being back home,[/i] he thought to himself, recalling the memory he had been given of his old apartment back when he was a child. Nick left the apartment without a sound, moving closer towards the stairs down to the entrance. If this Redd had just arrived then he had to be close to there. Positioning himself at the end of the stairwell, he waited, gripping his gun and feeling in his pocket for his lead pipe. Soon enough, loud steps began to echo closer and closer, and Nick raised his gun with his finger on the trigger. [i]Hope this is the guy,[/i] Nick thought, recalling a job a while back where he shot the first person he saw and they turned out not even to be the target. The others wouldn’t let him hear the end of that for a while 

The man turned the corner to the stairwell, and Nick opened fire. It had to be the guy – a real big and ugly son of a bitch. But he was faster than Nick had anticipated, and as soon as he had seen him standing there, Redd had dodged for cover behind the corner. Though not before a bullet hit him square in the forearm. That had got to hurt. Nick heard Redd curse loudly and take out his own gun, and so he moved back up the stairs to find cover of his own, close to the apartment he had been resting in. He had hoped that his first round of bullets would take the guy out, but it looked like it wasn’t going to be that simple. Then again, when was it ever? Their targets didn’t tend to be the easiest to kill. That was why guys like Nick got to take the jobs. He grinned wildly, enjoying the thrill of the hunt. And as Chuck Redd turned the corner, they both opened fire, cueing people from inside other apartment rooms to scream at the sudden noise. Nick hissed as he felt a bullet graze his side. Quickly glancing at the wound with a scowl, he saw that it had just scratched past him. 

At the break in fire, however, as Nick began to reload, he found himself caught by surprise. Rather than waiting and reloading like any [i]sensible [/i]person would do, Redd rushed forward. The man had tossed his gun aside – perhaps it was already completely out of ammunition. With rather alarming precision, Redd knocked the gun out of Nick’s hand. [i]Oh right, good hand to hand skills. Motherfucker.[/i] Out of reflex, Nick threw a punch which landed square in the other mobster’s jaw. He’d never been one for hand to hand, but he certainly knew how to punch. It didn’t seem to affect the undead man all that much, though he did stumble back. Yet immediately after, he lunged forward again and slammed an equally forceful punch right where the bullet graze was. Nick winced, staggering back, and shoved his hand in his pocket for his lead pipe. 

Redd, however, backed up slightly – only to pick up Nick’s gun. [i]Not good[/i], Nick thought irritably. He wouldn’t be able to get to Redd with his sealing weapon before he fired off the gun. Quickly digging into his other pocket, he pulled out the mirror shard from before. With a frustrated huff that he wouldn’t be able to finish the job all by himself, Nick looked into the mirror and gruffly said [color=ed1c24]“Jonathon Jones.” [/color]

[@Bishop]