Snippet #2593791

Two days passed in a haze of activity. They quickly and easily secured an apartment near their targets under an assumed name. They discreetly moved all of their equipment into the small one bedroom apartment, making it look more like a store house than a place where someone lives, but hopefully they wouldn't need it for more than a month or so. Ozzy was gearing up for a job, stuffing a facemask into a pocket of his non-descript pants he makes his way to the door, grabbing his gun on the way, he calls over his shoulder as he goes.

"Contact me the usual way if anything comes up, I'll be back." And with that he walks out the door. Walking slowly down the steps until he reaches the garage they rented as part of their room, throwing on his helmet he's off, the roar of his bike the only thing heralding his departure. The drive is short, less than ten minutes at the pace he kept, and he pulls into a blind alley a ways down from the Bakery that HQ had tagged for him to hit. These sorts of jobs weren't his favorite, but he didn't turn down jobs, and he didn't fail so walking a ways down he dons the mask and keeps going, confidently striding towards the front door of the bakery. That is, until he step through the front door and sees one of their primary objectives manning the counter. Eyes going wide, he swipes the mask off his face before she can see and stuffs it in to the back pocket of his jeans, stutter stepping to change his stride to casual confidence he walks up to the counter.

"Fancy meeting you here," His voice is smooth as he leans against the counter, but his thoughts are anything but. Of all the rotten luck! Someone at HQ is getting an ass chewing for this one.