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Fresh brewed coffee chases away the stale scent of inactivity; Gavin finds the jar of sugar empty and shrugs before downing the liquid straight. It's a different brand than they have at home, cheaper with less flavour, but any port would do in a storm such as this.[break][break]

"Then we'll need to approach the same way everyone else does." While the solution is simple, the execution is bound to be anything but. His knuckles crack as he rings his hands. "If his invitations are exclusive, we need to have been invited."[break][break]

The kitchenette does not lend well to pacing, so Gavin steps out into the living room to wear his thought patterns into carpet.[break][break]

"No one can approach him directly, you said." He pauses in his step, swivels toward her. Amber eyes burn, intense. "So new invites don't get to meet with him, I imagine, until they've proven trustworthy?"

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Her fingers curl around her own mug, sipping at it quietly as her thoughts drift. She listens to him as he speaks, his voice almost soothing amidst the chaos in her brain.[break][break]

Emma finds herself nodding slowly as he comes up with a plan, her eyes finding his and holding steady for a moment. She's thoughtful.[break][break]

"We need to have been invited... yes."[break][break]

Gavin abandons his post by the counter to pace in the living room and she shadows him - though he's doing enough pacing for the two of them. Instead, she merely lingers by the arm of a chair nearly, pressing her hip against the cushion.[break][break]

He swivels toward her and her eyes match his intensity. It seems to travel to her chest, the burn growing exponentially. [break][break]

"That's correct. I can see something brewing there, Gavin. Do you have a plan?"

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"More a loose direction than a plan," he admits, frowning. His pacing resumes, slow and careful steps leaving faint impressions in the carpet. "If we need to be invited..."[break][break]

Normally, planning occurs across days, maybe even weeks. He'd have time to ruminate on every option, and now, with Emma sharing his space, someone to bounce those options off of. This, however, was a sudden and time-sensitive operation. If they let him slip through their fingers and something else spooked him, it could be the last chance they ever get.[break][break]

"It starts at 1AM." He looks at the clock on the wall, frowns at the hands. "We've got about an hour to scout around for escape routes and the like, figure out how to block them off. His unit is in a perfect position. It's the last one at the end of the west hall. Should be obvious if someone's here for him. If we can intercept someone — two someones, ideally — and assume their identity, it'll no doubt spook him less than if we show up as complete strangers."[break][break]

His pacing takes him to the single bathroom in the smaller unit. He flicks the lights on, opens cupboards and inspects supplies.[break][break]

"They've got make-up and a couple random basics stocked... we could get other supplies from somewhere in Mauville if we needed to... the identity, that's the most important part."

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"I can work with that."[break][break]

He continues to pace and she allows it because it's a habit she's guilty of as well. Although she manages to curb her urge to allow him the space to pace, she drums her fingers against a nearby surface. Gavin reiterates information they already know but it helps to solidify her plan. Normally such repetition would annoy her, but Gavin doesn't annoy her.[break][break]

"Then we better get moving."[break][break]

And then Gavin mentions assuming identities and it's like the pieces are falling into place. She doesn't waste any more time because she has a plan. He opens cupboards and mentions make-up and supplies but she's virtually indifferent. All she needs is action. She needs names.[break][break]

"Let's go, we have identities to borrow."[break][break]

She smirks before abandoning her post on the edge of the chair, getting to her feet and ultimately leading Gavin into the dark. [break][break]

There, they find two individuals who look similar in physical appearance to the two of them. It's like fate is enabling them to get this job done, some outside force encouraging them on their path.[break][break]

Emma rummages through the woman's person, searching for identification and the invitation. It turns out to be a text message reminder, and she opts to lift the phone from the pair.[break][break]

All they had to do now was act normal and slip in using the invitation. The hard part was still coming, and the time read 12:45.

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Emma moves with the fluid grace of a practiced predator, taking down their targets before Gavin has caught onto her plan. This is her specialty, and she does it well — amber eyes simmer with an intense hunger as they watch her.[break][break]

Even in his fascination, he is quick to move in and assist. He takes the man's identity, his phone, the keys to his car. His driver's license is expired, the photo a few years out of date. That was perfect. Gavin could work with that.[break][break]

"What's her name? I'm now 'Stephen Fowler. Business cards suggest he works in marketing."[break][break]

With only 15 minutes to spare, Gavin works quickly to cover up the tell-tale scar on his brow. The man's eyes are more brown than Gavin's amber, but such details were likely to escape their mark if he did not know his clients well. Fowler had a beard, but Gavin was clean-shaven.[break][break]

Messing up his just-fixed hair, Gavin looks between the out-of-date license and his reflection.[break][break]

It'll do.

Now, it was showtime.

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"Liza Jacobs. Hmm."[break][break]

She stands up from her knelt position after rummaging through the woman's purse. She eventually ends up lifting both the purse and the jacket, sliding it on and finding satisfaction at how perfectly it fit. There are vague similarities between the women, specifically in the length and colour of their hair. The rest doesn't matter as long as they didn't make direct eye contact.[break][break]

Emma glances at Gavin briefly as she adjusts the shoulders of her new jacket. [break][break]

"Looks like we work together even now, Stephen."[break][break]

She watches him quietly as he covers up the scar on his eyebrow - a scar she hadn't noticed before. She seems thoughtful as she studies him a moment before moving on. [break][break]

"Let's move, Fowler."[break][break]

She cracks a small smile before getting on her way. [break][break]

---[break][break]

They blend into the crowd easily, the bouncer accepting their electronic invites before wiping their data. It's a tidy clean-up job. Virtually untraceable if you weren't counting on anyone being smart enough to tap your phone. Though, chances are they were throwaway phones anyway. [break][break]

Her eyes scan the area quietly, quickly. They're looking for their in but they have to be careful to not get picked out amongst the crowd themself. It was time to blend in and act invisible. So far, so good.

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Emma adjusts Liza's jacket, slips on her purse.[break][break]

"Classy as ever, Ms. Jacobs."[break][break]

He assumes she's unmarried, noting the lack of wedding ring. Stephen Fowler was likewise unattached. Perhaps the two were merely coworkers who'd been extended the same invite, or perhaps they were romantically involved. There had been little time to observe the pair before taking them down: 1AM was fast approaching.[break][break]


The bouncer takes Stephen's phone, and Gavin adopts an air of vague indifference as he waits for the wipe. He's quietly impressed. Emma was right; these people knew what they were doing.[break][break]

Naturally, the small crowd assimilates into smaller groups. For a gambling ring, it is surprisingly quiet: hushed voices discuss bets over glasses of wine, cans of beer. They will no doubt grow louder as the night progresses and the alcohol takes hold, but something tells him that rowdiness is a quick ticket out the door. The unit does not have direct neighbours, doesn't have to fret over thin walls, but a party could still draw the attention of the authorities.[break][break]

He's good.[break][break]

Due to the nature of the small groups of people, it draws no attention when the two of them stand apart from others. Gavin holds a can of beer — opened, but full. Every so often, he lifts it to his lips and pretends to drink... just in case.[break][break]

"You know what our man looks like." She'd dealt with him before, after all. The cool metal of the can touches his lips. "Is he here?"

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She pops her collar before they make their way in, the motion discreet and natural despite how unlike her it was. Gavin pulled out a different side of her, something carefree and warm. [break][break]

As they make their way inside, the dimness of the warehouse is unsurprising. She adjusts to the lighting immediately, reaching for his hand in the dark to lead him to the side. The motion is brief and discreet and her hand returns to her side immediately after. The two have melted into the crowd and reappeared unscathed. No one cared who they were or gave them a second glance.[break][break]

They eventually appear and reappear in different areas of the warehouse, adopting their personas like a breeze. Even still, Emma has managed to pick out their problem targets. There's two guards, armed, she can see the gun they carry as they shift their weight. They're discreet but clear as day to someone looking for it. [break][break]

But what matters most is that she's found the man they're looking for. He's perfectly coifed - a businessman at heart. He knows what he's doing and he knows he can get away with it. She lowers her gaze as he passes them both by. Emma's golden gaze captures Gavin's amber one with an intensity unlike before. The man had been so preoccupied with his business deal that he'd brushed her shoulder and hadn't even noticed.[break][break]

Gavin lifts his full and untouched beer can to his lips and she blinks as he whispers to her.[break][break]

"Fuckboy haircut, expensive watch, chatting up his next business partner. Heading toward the ring to take a look at their selection."[break][break]

She stands up straighter, anticipation and impatience lingering in her energy.

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Emma's hand closes around his in the darkness of the room; the sensation is grounding as his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and he allows himself to be led through the crowd. She's done this before. She knows what she's doing.[break][break]

And she knows her target.[break][break]

There's a shift in her gaze that he does not miss, a ferocity that speaks before she opens her mouth: She's seen him. Practiced though Gavin's gaze may be at picking out threats from a crowd — he'd similarly identified those holding weapons, their locations, and the closest available route to their exit — he is unable to distinguish this man from his peers. His lip twitches as she insults his haircut, amber eyes drifting lazily over the crowd to surreptitiously scout for the description.[break][break]

His eyes land upon a man who'd passed them by, earlier, and his brow lifts. Had he been paying more attention, perhaps they'd have been made.[break][break]

"I'm sure you saw the guards." Emma was far better at this than he was; pride would not hold back this admission. "We'll need to get rid of them first. I take it this group is the sort to scatter at first sign of trouble?"[break][break]

If his clientele were loyal to him, that could pose an entirely different problem.

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Gavin glances over the ocean of people. The event hadn't yet begun but it appeared the bidding had. From what she could gather, 'the Mauler' was facing off against 'the Crybaby'. It doesn't sound like a promising fight but several people were putting incredibly generous amounts of money on 'the Crybaby'.[break][break]

But as time ticks by and the target moves toward the pits to discuss business endeavors, his voice is lost in the constant murmur. It allows her to refocus on her partner, however, as he affirms her suspicion on the guards. He was right, they needed to get rid of them if they planned on cornering their target.[break][break]

"He doesn't give them the time of day. They're only here because they get paid to be and they place bets on the fights. They have no loyalty."[break][break]

In fact, Emma had already organized a diversion in which the guards had easy access to the pool of bets. If push came to shove they would certainly take the money and run, leaving Mr. Chad Valentine high and dry. [break][break]

"All we need is a moment - cause a scene. The bidding money is being collected and the guards are going to take it and run."

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Gavin slowly grins against another feigned sip of his drink, eyes shining in the dim light. His guards were going to run? Now that presented them with a perfect opportunity. How had Emma come upon such vital information?[break][break]

As always, she's full of surprises.[break][break]

When they had scouted the place beforehand, Gavin had only spotted two viable exits — the front door, and a window that could be used to drop down to the fire escape if their target was feeling particularly bold.[break][break]

Given that he was about to be left without his guard detail, Gavin could only imagine the state of desperation they'd leave him in. As soon as they caused any sort of panic or diversion, most everyone would make a move for the front door. If Valentine wanted to make a hasty exit, he'd go for the only option he had left. Assuming that Emma has already surmised as much, Gavin doesn't waste breath thinking aloud.[break][break]

Having discussed potential plans as they cased the building, Gavin thinks quick: "Draw attention away from us; I'll set up a smokescreen."
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His hand curls around Greninja's pokeball, ready. Amber eyes map a path through the floor to their target — if they were quick, even the darkness would not pose any threat to them.[break][break]

"We'll pincer him. He'll have nowhere to run."

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The truth of it was: the guards their target hired were no more than petty thieves themselves. They worked for the money, and, if given enough incentive, they wouldn't stay. They valued their life more than the pinched pocket of their boss. Better work to be found elsewhere, likely.[break][break]

Like Gavin, the woman had tucked it away in her memory the location of the two main exits. In fact, the pair more than likely had something planned for if the plan went awry - not that it would, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Should the target escape and make it to the window and fire escape, there was almost certainly a trap laid waiting there.[break][break]

Mr. Valentine's pinched pockets were their opportunity to strike. This little business he had going for him hadn't been making him quite as much as before. Suspicion had arisen since she had last dropped by - and customers weren't a fan of getting caught with their fingers in illegal dealings.[break][break]

And, although she isn't psychic or telepathic to any degree, she seems to pick up on Gavin's internal thought process - or perhaps they think the same thing. While Gavin reaches for a Pokeball, Emma's sleight of hand drops two. [break][break]

A pair of Weavile act like mirror copies of each other, slipping out of sight. It doesn't take them long at all to infiltrate the cages containing tonight's entertainment. Screaming and cursing can be heard from the pit as the Weavile torment and injure the competition. It causes a ruckus, drawing the attention away from the guards and their post. [break][break]

Because, just like clockwork, Mr. Valentine chooses to flee rather than stay. They have him cornered, peeled way from the herd like a separated lamb.

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Gavin and Emma are a pair of lone wolves who've formed a pack of their own: their thoughts are in sync, and he knows that he needn't worry about her part of the plan. Whatever she has up her sleeve, she's got it handled.[break][break]

As confusion and panic erupts around them and the wisest of the patrons dash for the exit, Gavin releases his own Pokemon into the fray.[break][break]

Greninja is only visible long enough for Gavin to give his silent signal, and then both Pokemon and master are wreathed in the black haze of a SMOKESCREEN. Though he can no longer see Emma, he'd made note of her positioning beforehand and knows where to move so as to not disrupt her route through the chaos of the crowd.[break][break]

Sticking close to the path he'd glimpsed earlier, Gavin bumps only a few shoulders before emerging on the other side to confront a panicked Chad Valentine — he slips in front of the window, physically blocking the route, and his sharp eyes pick out Emma approaching from the other side.
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Valentine shouts for his guards, and Gavin's grin is feral.[break][break]

No one comes to the rescue.[break][break]

"Breathe, Valentine. We just want to talk."

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