Mark looked over, barely flinching. It was like it'd happened to him before in his life, the MP5 pointing at him as they headed in, Ross completely aware of why, unable to even speak before Mark quipped in. "Information. Nice to meet you, I guess....you're rather courteous, but last time police were talking to me, I got a similar treatment. Heckler and Koch type of person, I guess. MP5, Counter-Terrorist variant. You're definitely a cop. Hmm...I'm more Sig Sauer than HK, but that's just me." Mark said, utterly unafraid, utterly giving no fucks, because well, he had really seen worse, chuckling a little, as he looked to Ellie and Athena, Ross stopping him. "Mark's got intel for us...easy, Athena. Sounds like we have someone we can hunt down if we want to find our gang. The rest goes from there." Ross commented, as Mark nodded, shaking his head. "Mark's good, Athena. End of the day, you might hate him, but your own sister was the one that brought me into this whole job. She organises the courier runs, and is more blue blooded street racer than I am sometimes. She's a criminal too, by any means of the definition. And sometimes, the law can't sort the problems that the underworld can." "Aye. It's a rather simple arrangement. Point being, I'm taking just as much of a risk as you are to trust me. We're both opposites, but we need to do this for Ross and Kimberly. We're just different sides of the mirror." Mark said bluntly, Ross nodding. "We'll need to get going in the morning. We've got a lot of ground to cover. Ellie, this is Mark, by the way. Another Scotsman in the crew, I guess. He's friendly. Feel free to crash here, pal. I need to get rest myself...I feel like a wreck." Ross added, yawning as he grabbed his bottle of water, sipping it down, sitting on the bed as he did. Mark looked to Athena, knowing she definitely didn't like him, and he didn't like her. But it had to be said. "You know, for a cop, I think we might get along, Athena. Also, nice to meet you, Ellie. I hear you're the mad one." ------ [b]Part 8: Retribution[/b] [img]http://deathvalleyhikerasso.homestead.com/files/the_desert_landscape.jpg[/img] Somewhere in the desert outside Nogales, Mexico Sixteen Hours Later The afternoon sun was beating down, and the dusty desert on the far side of the border fence was a strange feeling indeed. There wasn't much point in sugarcoating it, Ross was on a healthy amount of painkillers that would make Max Payne look like a recreational user, and sitting behind the wheel of a black 2011 Range Rover Sport felt like the most insane thing he'd ever fucking done. Christ, what the fuck were they thinking.... As it turned out, Mark had a particular eye for cars sometimes, and saw the car in a used car lot, surprisingly cheap. Turns out it was on sale after a local drug dealer had been caught out. Of course, the fact that he fucking drove a black Range Rover Sport, lived in a poor neighborhood and happened to smell of weed, totally didn't give the fact away that he dealt drugs. The point was, the car was cheap, smelled of ganja somehow, and it had a TVR-sourced supercharged V8, which for America, was standard. The other SUVs were crap, worse, or too flimsy for the job. Especially to carry the equipment they needed to bring with them, this Range Rover was an effective use of $20,000. Indeed, it was cheap. But it was a fucking Range Rover. And Mark couldn't say no. Ross.....was still dealing with that fact. It was a vehicle that would do the job, given they needed a V8, off-road capability, and something that wasn't going to wreck their insides when they were using that V8 on the bumpy stuff. Maybe it was the inner Marine that Mark still had an affinity with a Land Rover, but right now, it was doing just that, even if not inconspicous. Hardly like they needed to be, given the plan they had put together. Ross looked in the mirror, the sight of Athena and Ellie in the back, as they followed the bumpy back roads. They were on their way to the outskirts of Nogales, to the Bar Azul Verde, a fine establishment filled with cholos and up and coming drug bandits, cocaine and tequila, coming out of the desert roads and towards a tiny track, with a few houses littered around it. In the passenger footwell, Mark had two M4A1 CQBRs no less, on top of his Sig Sauer P226 in his holster, and a Browning M1911 for Ross, which Ross conveniently had in the cupholder. In the back, he'd even been able to get a Remington R700 .300 rifle, tooled to Marine standards. This was a serious arsenal, and Ross did not want to ask questions where it had come from. Mark had not replied to Athena's ones, when he arrived with it. All they needed to know was, a friend of a friend came in handy and he'd "found" magazines and rifles. That and kevlar vests for all four of them, just for the fact that they were rolling in bandit country now. They had a little while to go, so Mark looked back at the two in the back, then at Ross. "Let's go through the plan one more time. This can work like clockwork, or else we will not get another chance." Mark said, wearing a pair of Oakley shades to cover his jetlagged eyes, his demeanour as serious as ever. "The target, Luis Alvares is a Hispanic-coloured male, about 5"6, grey-green eyes, black shaven hair. Former arrests by the Mexican, Guatemalan and Peruvian authorities, so he's run drugs throughout the two continents. He isn't imposing, but he will be using a concealed carry, that we do know. We are going to get there, and me and Athena are going to go in, just us two. Ross, Ellie, you keep watch, and you wait by the rear entrance of the bar...Ross, when we come, you are going to have to drive like a bastard." Mark begun, looking to Athena. "We'll play it cool, we will stick out like nothing so speed is key, sidearms only. Chloroform is the main weapon of choice here, it'll knock our man out for long enough and I'll drag him out. If my contact is correct, he's going to be there for a few more hours before he goes invisible, so we need to make sure we get this right. Ellie, make sure the boot is open, and we'll throw him in the back. Ross, you then floor it, with all five of us secure. We'll give him an interview he won't forget once we're in the middle of nowhere. Don't worry, Athena, it's all above board. We'll try and stick to the Geneva Convention for as long as we can, but if I hear an answer I don't like, he'll find out what the worst of a Resistance to Torture programme looks like very fast." Mark cotninued, taking his Sig and loading a 9mm clip inside, cocking it, looking back to Athena, as Ross turned the corner on the dirt road, the V8 purring as they approached the bar. "After that, we'll go on what he says. Nice and slowly here. We don't need to raise hell....Athena, what's your Spanish like?" Mark asked, to the point, Ross quiet for now as he drove, doing the thing he did best.