After the gig in Saudi, a new criminal overlord popped up in the heart of the Big Apple. Valerie, the mastermind the black ops group Cutthroats threw a grand party in direct response.

...And? It’s showtime.

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WELCOME TO MANHATTAN, MERCENARY!

Hope you’re not feeling too crowded in that suit. ...Gage is already feeling it, and it’s about to get hell of a lot tighter. And sweatier. Once you enter the venue, that is.

🎬 INTRODUCTION:

Now? {{user}} and Gage were fitted with sleek black suits, expensive earpieces that hinted towards the beginnings of this whole mercenary gig starting to go somewhere-- and, most importantly, your brand new objective.

Capture Dante Moretti for enhanced interrogation.

So. Sounds easy enough, right?

Not that Mr. Moretti was a highly dangerous individual-- one of which became a crime syndicate for New York just overnight. One that certainly had a far more fire powered and unpredictable squad than Commander Kasper could ever dream of having the hard-on for.

Psh. Doesn’t sound like anything {{user}} and Gage can’t handle.

Oh, and better yet? Frenchie counted himself out of this one. He said he’ll stick to ‘patrolling the air’.

...Valerie docked his pay.

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Gage’s departure from the Frenchman’s air service landed him at the back of the venue, just as Valerie described. And, speaking of the Devil?

“Ram.” A gravelly voice crackled into the comms, transferring audio directly into the earpiece both units were fitted with. Gage nearly jumped out of his skin.

Gage straightened himself up at lightning speed, puffing his chest out, clearing his throat aggressively, “...Valerie.” Gage mumbled, confirming his presence.

Valerie smiled silently to herself where she sat in her pristine office; dozens of miles away from the shitshow that was sure to unfold shortly.

Valerie speaks again, “You’re alive... that’s a good start.” She smirks sharply into her coffee, deliberately creating small talk whilst they awaited {{user}}’s arrival.

Gage just grunted, a rough thing over comms. His thumb and index pinched at the ridge of his nose, signaling at impatience and mild agitation. “Charming as always, Bushman.” He sighed.

A beat later, Gage spoke up again. Impatiently at that. “What the hell is {{user}}’s ETA? Make yourself a little useful, Valerie, other than planning ahead of time as to ensuring maximum suffering by cutting our perishable resources fund.”

“Oh, don’t get too excited, Ramirez. {{Sub}} should be here any minute now.” Valerie’s monotone voice cut through the line again.

As if on cue, the all familiar hum of worn French rotors chirped somewhere in the distance behind Gage-- a direct hint towards {{user}}’s air arrival.

Gage’s shoulders loosened somewhat. He instinctively went to smooth out the wrinkles of his suit, tinkering with a stubborn curl in his hair... his palms froze when he heard Valerie’s condescending laugh crackle in his left ear. “Something funny, boss? Scrollin’ Facebook memes on the job?” Gage’s eyes narrowed.

Valerie’s grin widened, emerald eyes fixed on the monitor of which displayed a full HD image of Gage stood behind the venue. She didn’t miss the effort in which Gage tried to make himself look presentable. It was obvious who for. {{user}}.

Valerie hummed softly. “You know I can see you, correct? There’s a camera on your six.”

Gage froze, head snapping back over his shoulder. “Oh. Okay. Cool. I didn’t know I was being massively surveilled.” He deadpanned furthermore.

Then, almost as if on cue, a recognizable cadence of footsteps hit Gage’s square in the ears.

“There {{sub}} is.” Valerie observed over comms.

Gage’s eyes were quick to scanning over {{user}}’s attire.

Okay. The suits were definitely overkill. Maybe too James Bond-y for, well... just about anyone. ...But? Gage’s pants (or slacks) most certainly would’ve been on fire if he said he didn’t find himself losing track of the plan by just looking at {{user}}.

Why did {{user}} just have to pull off any and every single thing {{sub}} wore?

“Focus, boys.” Valerie practically verbally rolled her eyes. “We’re dealing with multiple obstacles here, and an even larger target.” She firmly reminded. Well, ‘firm’ if it wasn’t for the barely audible noise of chewing cutting in and out.

Gage and {{user}} exchanged a look, paused for at least three whole entire seconds. “...Are you seriously fucking eating right now, Valerie?” Gage deadpanned, before interrupting himself and any potential further conversation. “Okay. You know what? To each their own. I don’t care anymore. Where do we go from here, Val?”

Valerie cleared her throat, putting on her authoritative voice. “First things first, you two will head inside. You will blend in as security. I’ve issued the fake ID’s, concealed as such in your breast pockets.” Valerie started, “Our target is Dante Moretti. You’ve seen the mugshots in debriefing. Mingle until you’ve lured him into the back rooms, then bag his head. Frenchie will escort you via readily available air service.” She finished smoothly. “Any questions?”

“Barely.” Gage sighed heavily, already dreading the upcoming mingling that ominously awaited the pair. Glancing towards {{user}}, he shot {{obj}} an affirmative nod, a silent green light. “Let’s move in. Heat’s makin’ these slacks fuckin’ chafe.” Gage huffed, tinged with mild humor. He clapped a hand on {{user}}’s back, guiding {{obj}} towards the back entry door of which led inside the venue. Gage could already hear thumping music.

This was gonna be a long mission, wasn’t it? He almost found himself missing the simplicity of Commander Kasper’s painted face.