[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/a85d0d01-fe3c-4778-8161-fec972db8931.png[/img][/center][right][sub]FBI OPERATIONAL REPORT: AUGUST 20, 2050《[/sub][/right][hr]
SWAT gear was too heavy. Daniel wasn't sure if it was for protection or just so he'd look the part, but he was pretty sure it accomplished neither. He looked like a shut-in cosplayer trying desperately to look like some military character in a bulletproof vest, and the fact that his shoulders felt like they had an elephant sitting on them wasn't helping him avoid any fireballs. At least nobody tried to hand him a rifle this time.

The inhabitants of the lobby seemed to disagree with his assessment on his appearance; everyone was on edge the moment he stepped in the door. They were probably assuming 'crazy shooter' and not 'wimpy-looking fed' though, so he wasn't totally wrong. He swept a lidded gaze across the room in search of any security rushing to detain him, then made his way toward the front desk. Better to avoid a panic if at all possible.

[color=669900]"Agent Telem, FBI,"[/color] He announced as he flashed a badge at the flustered desk worker, [color=669900]"I need access to the penthouse floor."[/color]

[color=silver]"Team is entering through the balcony right now,"[/color] Daniel's earpiece helpfully chimed in while the woman was floundering for a key behind the desk. Even if she was paid off and alerted the inhabitants, it'd be too late. The worker sheepishly handed him one of housekeeping's spare keys that the boy took with an impassive mumble of gratitude. He approached the elevator at a leisurely pace - preferably, he'd like to arrive after the other agents had done their work - and he could blame it on the elevator being slow if needed.

When he stepped inside, any worries he had evaporated upon looking at the panel of buttons. Fifty-four floors, good god this guy lived way too high up. A key needed to be turned for the elevator to ascend to the top five floors, and with any luck it'd be a direct trip up. Surely VIPs didn't have to deal with forty-eight floors of people stopping the elevator to get in. 

[color=669900]"Status report,"[/color] Daniel muttered to the microphone wedged inside his respirator.

[color=silver]"No shots fired,"[/color] The agent on the other end of the line - Miller - informed him, [color=silver]"they surrendered peacefully and are cooperating."[/color]

[color=669900]"Who's 'they'?"[/color]

[color=silver]"Two bodyguards with him, suspected fellow gang members. Maid's not working today."[/color]

[color=669900]"What do we have on this guy?"[/color]

[color=silver]"Nothing that'll hold up in court. I could barely get the search warrant we do have."[/color]

[color=669900]"Then why am I here?"[/color] He slumped back against the wall, watching the floor number tick higher and higher. If he went through a whole fifty-four floor elevator ride for nothing, he was going to be seriously irritated. He was thrown into this operation on short notice and with minimal briefing; if they just wanted to search this guy's house, Daniel shouldn't have been contacted at all.

[color=silver]"I'm sure he moved anything incriminating out of his suite after our last few visits. We're skipping the courts; you're authorized to execute."[/color]

[color=669900]"So I'm your patsy when this gets uncovered."[/color]

[color=silver]"We'll handle the fallout, don't worry. The penthouse is secure, you're clear to move in."[/color]

The elevator opened into a spacious entryway decorated with tacky art pieces that led into the suite proper. The furnishings were sleek and fashionable, if a bit drab, aiming to state the owner's wealth without outright flaunting it. Telltale signs of a search were strewn about, though it hardly looked thorough or complete. An extravagant wall-to-wall window looked out over the balcony and pool, and before it was a cozy parlor where three well-dressed men were being cuffed at gunpoint by Mal'akh SWAT officers.

[color=0072bc]"Oh great, more of them,"[/color] The central, slightly pudgy man snarled, [color=0072bc]"I already told you, I'm not talking without my lawyer! You got nothing on me - I'll have you and your bosses ass-deep in lawsuits for this! You- Fuck."[/color] The man paused when Daniel finally stepped into his field of view. Evidently the guy recognized him, by the way his blustering stopped and he sunk in on himself like a toddler caught stealing from the cookie jar. That made things easier. Unfortunately, Daniel couldn't say the same. What was this guy's name again? The mal'akh had barely gotten a chance to look over his file. Some big name narcotics distributor. It didn't matter now, he supposed; the guy would cease to be anything more than an obituary header soon enough. 

Daniel stood before the kneeling man and let out a long exhale, forcing a hiss out of his mask. Some of the agents told him it was intimidating, made him come off more inhuman, more robotic; like he was ready to execute his job with cold pragmatism unhindered by frivolous concepts like mercy or compassion. Daniel thought it made him sound like a cheesy movie villain, but Drug Lord Chucklefuck certainly jumped when he heard it. [color=669900]"Let's not make this difficult. Tell me where the drugs are."[/color]

One of the bodyguards swiveled his head around in confusion, evidently trying to fathom why his boss had been rendered speechless by some scrawny kid that looked like he'd lose a fistfight with a wet paper bag. The other bodyguard, a stonefaced daeva, simply hung his head, whether in resignation or simple nonchalance. The rest of the agents slowly backed away, though their rifles were kept trained on the men. Daniel suspected they'd been given orders to remain until his starmark flared.

[color=669900]"No idea? That's okay, I didn't need a confession out of you anyway,"[/color] He continued humorlessly when his demand was met with silence. Narco clearly knew as well as Daniel did that his operation hadn't been compromised and he was facing no consequences here. He needed to change that.

[color=0072bc]"I... I don't know what you're talking about,"[/color] The man stammered at last. Daniel needed only to shift his arm forward listlessly to send the man collapsing onto his back as he squirmed to get away. [color=0072bc]"Wait! Wait! Y-you can't do that to me! I've done nothing wrong!"[/color] 

[color=669900]"Please back away,"[/color] Daniel requested politely, taking his eyes off the man before him briefly to speak to the surrounding agents, [color=669900]"This could get dangerous."[/color]

[color=0072bc]"I'll talk, I'll talk- I'll tell you everything you wanna know! Please!"[/color] No conviction, typical. How this man was considered 'ruthless', Daniel would never know. Terrorists met their fate fearlessly, choking out 'Death to America' even as they drowned in their own blood. Common criminals just begged like dogs in the end. [color=0072bc]"The warehouse down on 25th Avenue! It's under a proxy company's name!"[/color]

[color=669900]"D'you get that?"[/color] Daniel asked into the microphone.

[color=silver]"Confirmed."[/color] Agent Miller responded after a short delay, [color=silver]"Take them out."[/color]

The mal'akh regarded the man coldly as he knelt down beside him. The fat bastard was halfway to a heart attack, judging by the way he was panting; his eyes darted about rapidly in search of any threat from the diminutive Starweaver as sweat pooled on his greasy brow. He obviously hoped - [i]prayed[/i] - that Daniel had simply moved to pick him up and drag him into custody. He was wrong. A crimson light emerged above Daniel's brow at the apex of his starmark and slowly traced the rest of the shape downward, like spilled blood trickling down a surface. He clamped his hand over the unfortunate victim's mouth in an uncharacteristically lively movement, barely giving him a chance to yelp before his fate was sealed. The soon-to-be former drug lord thrashed wildly on the floor like a restrained animal, screaming muffled agonies into Daniel's palm as infectious gas was pumped into his lungs.

[color=0072bc]"You ca- you can't do this to me!"[/color] He gasped after Daniel released him, still floundering uselessly against the magitech restraints on his wrists. The other agents swiftly made their exit and retreated to the balcony, content to watch the show from behind the window rather than risk any chance of exposure. 

[color=0072bc]"I coopera-"[/color] The man started before he was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. A cloud of gaseous death emerged from his wheezing to consign his two associates to the same grave. Ever the stoic one, the daeva followed soon after, doubling over in weakness and pain as symptoms started manifesting. The final bodyguard managed to force himself to his feet and staggered toward the door, though the starmark above his head made it quite obvious that last bit of rebellion was futile. 

Daniel flexed his tattered wings and chambered his hand at his side to ready a spell. Ribbons of light swirled about his fingers and the air turbulently rippled before the boy's palm; it wasn't much, but it'd be enough to knock the fleeing gangster over. He couldn't let this guy leave, but if Miller ordered them killed by Contagion, he probably didn't want bullets involved. Too many questions they wouldn't be able to answer during the autopsy. When the vibrations reached their crescendo, the mal'akh thrusted his hand toward the fleeing man to send a bolt of kinetic force into his back and force the poor damned soul back to the ground for execution. [color=669900]"You're already infected. Running accomplishes nothing."[/color]

He'd learned to tune out the screams and pleading by now, but it brought him no joy that he would have to stay at least until the trio was too sick to even struggle. Quite frankly, he wanted out of this vest - it really was too heavy. Settling for a short rest instead, Daniel made his way back to the entryway and took a seat on a chair he'd passed on the way in.

[color=silver]"Good work. The cleanup crew is waiting for the all-clear,"[/color] Daniel's earpiece alerted him.

[color=669900]"Isn't he more valuable alive and in custody? He [i]did[/i] confess,"[/color] The Starweaver pondered allowed for Agent Miller's benefit.

[color=silver]"We bent too many rules here having you threaten him like that, and this guy has enough pull with local prison gangs that locking him up won't stop him. It's safer this way; forensics wants nothing to do with your targets. Once we have the warehouse, their whole operation will collapse anyway."[/color]

The mal'akh audibly sighed. He was still convinced Miller dragged him into a river of shit for an anticlimactic payoff. Probably had a promotion riding on taking down the dealers around here and felt cocky enough to skirt the law to get it.

[color=silver]"Don't give me that attitude,"[/color] Agent Miller continued, [color=silver]"The higher-ups are extremely impressed with your work. I heard the CIA pulled your file; you might be due for reassignment."[/color]

[color=669900]"The CIA? Great."[/color] Just what he needed, to get shipped off to take part in bioterrorism in Nowhere-istan. Maybe that was the plan all along and the feds just finally decided he could keep a secret; he certainly sat through enough lectures on discretion the first time he got a security clearance. Daniel shot a glance back to the men writhing on the floor in the other room. They'd started developing pustules by now; he was certain if he could still smell through his mask, the telltale metallic tang of blood would be heavy in the air. As disheartening as it was, there was probably little difference between his current work and any tasks he'd be assigned from the CIA. They knew he wouldn't refuse anyway.

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