[@Dealdric]

"All in due time Lexi. Just relax for now" Stryker muttered into the comms, Grayson was starting to stagger across the room. It was about to begin.

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There was one thing that Daniel Grayson exceeded at outside of killing. And that was drinking, or at the very least, being able to put out the appearance that he was an extremely sloppy drunk. Over the last 20 minutes or so, he'd ordered drink after drink of the strongest stuff he could spot with a familiar label. His tolerance was pretty high, but even professionals have a limit. He decided to get things going and got himself into character, looking up and down the line of the bar's counter like a wild animal, he pushed away and begin to wobble down the line, over-exaggerating his impairment. Marcus saw him coming and took a step back from the bar right on cue, so the duo collided and went sprawling to the floor.

"Fuckyoudoin ya fuckin' tosser?" Grayson slurred, just loud enough to catch the attention of a few bystanders. He pushed himself back to his feet "You fuckin' blind mate? Don't you see me walkin here?"
"I see a drunken fuck who's barely standing" Marcus snapped back, again loud enough to catch attention.
"Fuck you!" Grayson spat in a drawling slur as he brought a fist back and swung for Marcus's face. The distraction was now in full swing.

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"And the game is afoot" Carver said, opening up the comms line "Recon team, green light. Additional fighters, get ready to jump in. We don't have long people so let's do this fast!"

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