>>5883026>Outsmart: Use them to get deeper into the criminal underworld and show Hank you're usefulShe is not quite sure what the best course of action is. Eunice, a storm trapped in the body of a love sick woman, weighed the options. Joining them offered a twisted kind of therapy, a chance to bury her pain in the familiar dirt of old crimes. It could also be a gamble, a tightrope walk over a chasm of betrayal, but with a potential reward of proving her worth to Hank.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded, a cold fire glinting in her eyes. "Let's get this sandwich started," she muttered, the name of the operation leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. This infiltration was textbook Slick Billy - slick, indeed and probably not as dangerous as the last group she was part of before joining up with these guys.
The industrial behemoth loomed before them, a tangled web of pipes and smokestacks against the bruised sky. Thunder, ever the impatient one, cracked his knuckles and grinned,
"Let's do this, Canary!." But Eunice, her mind a battlefield of conflicting loyalties, hesitated. Slick Billy, sensing her trepidation, nudged her with his elbow. "Come on, canary. Think of it as a little reunion tour. Remember the good old days, eh?”
Eunice swallowed, the bitter taste of doubt heavy on her tongue. Was this truly the path she wanted to redeem herself? Or was she simply clinging to a phantom of a past she couldn't reclaim?
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. "Alright," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her heart, "Let's do it.” she fist bumps Thunder.
As previously stated the infiltration was textbook. Slick Billy's nimble fingers bypassed security with practiced ease, while Scritch, ever the silhouette, slipped through the cracks unseen. Thunder, ever the bull in a china shop, grumbled his way through, his presence masked by the rhythmic thrumming of the factory itself.
Eunice, however, felt her senses prickle. The air hummed with a strange energy, a disquiet that crawled beneath her skin. Then, a rumble of thunder, louder than any natural storm, echoed through the steel canyons. It was Thunder, the big oaf's impatience got the better of him, accidentally setting off a security alarm.
From the shadows, a figure emerged. A man, clad in lederhosen and a flowing black cape, his face etched with a thousand wrinkles, his eyes glinting with a feral gleam. He raised a gnarled hand, and the air crackled with an unseen force.
He was unlike anything she'd ever seen, glowing with an unnatural purple light. As he yodeled a chilling tune, the shadows around him writhed and coalesced, taking the shape of monstrous beasts.
From the darkness sprang a pack of wild boars, their eyes glowing red, their tusks bared. But these were no ordinary beasts. They were hulking, bipedal creatures, their bodies rippling with unnatural muscle, their snorts laced with a disturbing intelligence.
