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[b]Location:[/b] Outside the Gala Fundraiser Hotel

Damn if this weren't boring. 

There's something to be said about the life of a mercenary from every angle. The pay, the thrill, the violence....But you're never prepared for the real part of work like this. The boredom. Patience might be a virtue, but Veronica Valstead ain't a very virtuous woman. In the shadow of this New York night, she lied in wait on a nearby rooftop, eager for her opening to strike. But that was just it; waiting. 

Her Johnson for this hit was quite the interesting one though. Wouldn't give his real identity, obviously; didn't even meet in person. That was all standard fare. What [i]ain't[/i] standard fare is paying upfront for the job [i]AND[/i] even adding in a little bonus, which she was all to happy to exploit, tapping on the side of her STARK Holo-Glasses. She might as well have had a smartphone on her face, and this one came with some extra features, evident as she scoped the scene on the inside of the gala with X-Ray. 

She might be one tough bitch, but this job did demand a bit of prep-work from her due to its....Eccentricities. 

Firstly, she was after one Oberon Price; guy who ate up STARK Enterprises. Deadshot didn't have much thoughts on the man, but if someone was giving her a job to go after a man this rich and powerful, then either this was quite personal or they was looking to topple their corp. And honestly, judging from the free gear and ludicrous upfront pay, probably both. But it got weirder. While they didn't care how they got to Mr. Price, they made one demand; for his death to be gruesome and public. She quietly hoped it was some sort of publicity stunt and not a kink. 

Granted, since they paid her upfront, V did have a sneaking suspicion this job was more than her benefactor was letting on. Some fucker playing 4d Chess with themselves or some dumb shit. She didn't need to know, she didn't wanna know, and she couldn't care less not knowing. It's a lot easier to focus what's in front of you. 

[color=a187be]"...Huh."[/color]

....Like a guy sporting some upgrades. The X-Ray was mostly for her to look through the walls and get a layout of the situation inside; she was able to tell guards from the damn bureaucrats in the building thanks to it, because the X-Ray wouldn't go past their body armor. What she hadn't expected, however, was to get a nice image of a skeleton covered with all kindsa gear, clearly inside his body. Vera couldn't make heads or tails of all the crap in the guy, but it wasn't good news for her. Still, better she knew now. 

By now, she'd mapped out all the non-hostiles and security forces in the building, and turned off the X-Ray feature for now, having to blink a few times to chase it off. With a sigh, she got up from her crouched position, getting in a good stretch before pulling a cigar out from a small pouch on her belt, with a lighter she was just as quick to produce. A small puff of smoke pervaded the air, before slowly being pushed off into the night. Dropping it to the ground and snuffing it out with a good rub of her boot, she gave a look to the front guards of the hotel. They didn't number many, and from their posturing, she could tell they weren't prepared for anything serious. Much less her. 

With a few more cracks of bone, Deadshot was all limbered up. She took up position on the rooftop, laying flat on her stomach as she produced her M110 from the careful layers of straps on her back that secured a shocking amount of gear, lining up the shot on the first guard. 

Soon she'd find the right opportunity. But for now, staring down her sights, she embraced the cold bite of December, steeling her for what was to come.