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[Guerrero's walking down the alley, tacklebox in hand; the Eldo's not far, about halfway down. Out of sight of the main road so he can get the body into it afterwards, far enough away from the entrance to the warehouse so it won't be directly connected if someone walks by. He glances around as he heads towards the warehouse, checking to make sure there's nobody watching, and ducks inside.]

[Hit-Girl had been watching that warehouse all night. It had people in it that she already knew to be bad news so when Guerrero walked in, Hit-Girl immediately went to the one skylight she knew would open.

Mainly because she broke the lock about an hour ago, just in case. She peeks in, checking for thugs before easing the window open and dropping in as silently as she can.

She's not entirely sure what she's hearing but it doesn't sound good. Shouting and arguing and it's enough for Hit-Girl to follow the sound, silently taking down whoever she has to just to keep herself from being interrupted.

And there's the guy she saw heading in, with some other guy tied to a chair. She's just going to keep herself low, watching what's going on before moving.]

Edited 2012-05-29 15:17 (UTC)

[It might have been occupied before, but it's empty now. Well, aside from Guerrero and one Brent Whitworth, a small-time con man who'd managed to accidentally get his hands on some information that belonged to a guy with deeper pockets and wider connections than most of the guys he worked. He's a weaselly guy with a big mouth, and is currently deep in trying to talk the hit man out of the job. His voice raises once or twice, squeaky in his concern for his own skin, but Guerrero ignores it, expression impassive. Disinterested. He keeps one eye on the guy while he opens the tacklebox, pulling out the handgun from his waistband and placing it on the top tray before pulling out a fish hook, almost musing over it. Best to start with the easy stuff, no need to pull out the big guns when they probably won't be needed. Not yet, anyway.]

You done yet? Because if you keep yelling I'm gonna have to jump right to the heavy stuff to get this moving, I'm kinda on a deadline. You had to know this was coming, dude. I mean...seriously? If you did your homework a little better we wouldn't be here right now.

[He seems oblivious to the girl skulking in the shadows. Not that he won't notice once she makes a move, but for now? He's more focused on the guy in the chair.]

Nice mask.

[All the sarcasm.] Thanks. It came with my Limited Edition Super Hero Barbie doll.

Aren't you a little young to be playing out here alone? [Not that she couldn't take care of herself; B's seen younger girls with deadly talents.]

[What in the everloving fuck did she walk in on? Hit-Girl's still watching, nose wrinkling in complete distaste. She didn't like either of the guys involved at all and this had the potential to go so very wrong so very fast. Hit-Girls hands went for one of the balisongs she kept in her utility belt, flicking it open with a click that she thought might have been a little too loud. Oh, well. Whatever happens, she's ready for it. And whoever the idiot in the chair was and the bigger guy working him over? She was now far too interested in them for her own good.]

Edited 2012-05-29 19:12 (UTC)

You're fucking with me, right? I never play.

Could've fooled me.

Hmm. Listen. I'm a little busy trying to catch a douche bag drug dealer who's been slippin' poisoned shit into the stock of a local ice cream truck that sells to little kids so either help me out or stay outta my way.

He's a popular boy tonight, isn't he? [She checks the katana strapped to her back and looks down at Hit-Girl, considering turning her away, but this kid doesn't seem like she'd give up too easy.] Fine. Stay behind me and let's see what you can do.

[She'd have charged in, anyway. So trying to deter her is pretty pointless. In fact, if anything, she takes it as encouragement. Hit-Girl just nodded, not really planning on listening to her, anyway. She never stayed behind Big Daddy, certainly never behind Kick-Ass. She wasn't about to start now. Instead, she started towards the fire escape she'd cleared off earlier. Bodies hung off it at odd angles and Hit-Girl ignored them. There was a window that didn't latch very well and Mindy pushed it open, stepping in as silent as a shadow.]

[Damn, that little girl moves fast. B goes for the fire escape herself, ghosting up with her SOG at the ready to slash at any exposed tendon or artery she sees, but Hit-Girl's done a good job and the knife's clean by the time she climbs to the top. Two stories up and she peers into the window, sighing and unholstering her .45 as she sees the girl's shadow shift down below. She wasn't used to babysitting on jobs, but she might as well make sure the kid had a distraction to mask her presence. B waits until two of the dealer's thugs stand, speaking face to face, and fires through the pane of glass; the bullet cuts right through the first man's neck and into his friend's chest.]

["Bigger" isn't exactly accurate, since the guy in the chair's probably got a good six inches and thirty pounds on the hit man, but he does seem to take up more space than he actually occupies through sheer confidence and a certain dangerous quality that runs through everything he does. The click gets his attention though, and he shifts his attention to the shadows, reaching for his gun and with a single smooth movement he's pointing it at where she's hiding.]

Drop it and slide it over or you're joining our friend here.

[She has other weapons. Not that she needs them. Still, the man had a gun on her and she wanted to play along for now so...there's a balisong sliding out of the shadows, followed by Mindy who...doesn't necessarily have her hands up. She just sort of walks out, overconfident as hell.]

Looks like a party.

[Hit-Girl doesn't need a babysitter. She'll prove that soon enough. From the crawlspace below, she's looking out for the drug-dealer. All she sees are lackeys but that's good enough for her. It's just a matter of taking them out and having fun with it as she does so. She just has to be careful, unfortunately, because she doesn't want the main moron to get away.

She looks up and around for B, waving when she sees her. A subtle flick of her hand and she's pointing at a larger group to B's right. They don't see either of them and B gets a smirk. There's another group below Hit-Girl. She can handle them. She lets herself out of the crawlspace, dropping into the shadows behind the group and it's silent for a moment before there are a few faint flashes from where Hit-Girl is hiding and the group falls to the floor, each one with a new hole in their head, courtesy one very violent 11 year old. She turns, looking up to see what B is doing.]

[One thing's for sure, the kid knows how to take care of herself. B catches the little wave of her hand, follows the signal to the group of men Hit-Girl hasn't gotten to yet. As soon as the glass shatters B jumps from the window to the floor, landing harder than she'd like but still with catlike grace in the midst of the group. Her Hanzo's unsheathed in a flash, already streaked red as one of the thugs' torsos slides easily away from his legs, blood splashing onto her face and hands as she whirls like some deadly dervish.

Seconds later, she stills to catch her breath in a circle of mutilated bodies. One man, whimpering and groaning, is trying to force the fingers of his severed arm from around a gun to aim left-handed. B steps on his hands, lifting the sword like a stake and stabbing it down into his head. She glances over to Hit-Girl, quirking a lip in amusement as she sees her handiwork.]

Good?

[He steps forward to pull the knife towards himself with a foot, and if he's at all surprised that it's a KID, he doesn't show it. (a hint: he's surprised, but not THAT surprised. He's come across kids in suicide vests, a little girl dressed up like a superhero with a flashy knife is much less of a threat as far as he's concerned.) The knife is pocketed, and he sends a look at Whitworth, who's busy looking like he can't decide if he's just been saved or screwed over further. Then he looks back at the girl. Well then.]

So you're not with him. Good, it makes this easier.

Two questions, and don't make me ask them again. Who are you and what's your game here.

[Hey, that was her knife! That gets a Look, something almost exactly like a little kid whose favorite blankie was taken. In Mindy's case, this is more likely than most would think. Disturbing, no? The questions almost get a full sarcastic response but she wants the knife so she's playing it safe.]

I'm Hit-Girl. This cunt has info on an asshole ice cream truck driver who's been slipping poisoned drugs into the shit he sells. I want that information. [A beat, a slight head tilt.] What do you want with him?

Cute. Amateur approach, but cute.

[Like he's buying it. He takes a shot at her feet, or more specifically the ground right in front of them; if she were an adult he'd take out a kneecap, but...kid. It checks his aim just a little.]

More importantly, it's not your business. I told you not to make me ask again. Do you want to join this smart guy here? Because I'm sure he'd like the company. Your name, and drop the cutesy sleepover codename thing. He won't tell anyone. Right, Brent?

[Brent nods like a bobblehead, then thinks a minute and shakes his head emphatically instead. Good boy.]

See? We're all friends here. For now. [The poor schmuck won't be leaving here breathing anyway, whether he hears or not is kind of a moot point.] Again. Your name.

[It's not so much a jump back as it's more a backflip, one hand planted on the ground and the other out for balance before she rights herself. She snorts, almost set on being stubborn and she could go at this all day with the guy but she really needs that information and if she has to break her cover somewhat, she...might. Not fully.]

Mindy.

[She likes this woman. Oh, does she like her. She gets a grin and a thumbs up and then Mindy makes short work of a few more thugs that had come in to investigate. Once they're down, Hit-Girl looks at B.]

Our guy should be in the next room over.

[...interesting.]

Well, Mindy. You kind of interrupted me in the middle of something here. Which makes it a little awkward in general. Who sent you here?

Nice work.

[Handling a hit with a partner is nothing new to B, but she will admit working with such a young one's a novelty. It's not often she just finds someone with such skill – or at least it's not often that she finds them on her side.

Wiping the blood from her sword with a handkerchief, she looks at the door to the next room: heavy, bolted, no doubt opening on an armed bodyguard. There's a heating vent above it and B nods pointedly to it, extending a hand to help Hit-Girl up (if she wants it).]

Tell me you don't need him alive.

Dead.

[That's all she has to say about that. She takes the help into the vent and looks down at B, grinning.] I like working with you.

[She then turns and starts through the vents, still working quietly. She likes surprising people, especially the bad ones. They deserve her kind of surprise the most. The vent ends above a very large armed guard but that doesn't matter. Hit-Girl's handled worse. It was just a matter of pointing her gun through the openings, aiming and firing and the thug dropped. She had about a minute to get the heavy doors unlocked and open before anyone came to investigate the noise she'd purposefully made and by the time B got to her, she was ready to go.]

They're coming. So's our guy.

Excellent.

[Nothing else needs to be said. She listens with a half-smile at the sound of the gunshot, not doubting for a second that Hit-Girl's the one behind the noise. When the door swings open she's got her Hanzo in one hand, her Firestar in the other, and a big smile on her face.] You're not so bad yourself. [There's another open door inside, piping lining the ceiling over it, and B moves to the shadows behind it.] Ready?