The 5-story, roughly 50-meter square warehouse had seen better days, but the appearance was deceiving. The array of windows with broken glass, even the boarded up front door with the barely used adjacent ATM, hid protective and defensive secrets directed at keeping unwanted intruders from getting inside.

Up on the third floor, sprawled about the makeshift living room area, on the worn and faded burgundy sofa or one of the matching recliners or across a table or even stretched out on the floor, the Crew waited for their leader... well, no, he wasn't really a leader... CEO perhaps if the group had been a licensed business or a corporation but they hadn't gotten that far yet... maybe the best term was 'agent'.

"I've got a new lead," Honcho began. "Actually, it's more like a new client."

"According to our client, an old family heirloom was recently uncovered in an attic in Tokyo. His family heirloom. It's being shipped to Seattle tomorrow to get added to the Horizon collection. Naturally he'd prefer it go into his personal collection."

"Can we do this?"

Fifth brushed stringy brown hair away from the pale skin of his face, his eyes darting around the warehouse, despite his best attempts to relax he was still on edge in almost all the places. The last few runs had shown up his lack of combat expertise and that made him very nervous about danger but didn't stop him from showing up...although he had been to the firing range, and even found a local MMA club and joined....and had a few new bruises to show for it, and a really nice uppercut.

Shifting his hand reached down to touch his chest, the place his deck was tucked under his armor and touching against his skin for the skin link. Shrugging green eyes rested on their leader, agent....fixer who was really personally involved? Shifting once more he looked around, his hand sliding up to the new goggles around his neck,"Depends....what it is, how Horizon is transporting them and if we have enough details?" His voice was surprisingly deep as looked around,"And time means a lot...theoretically we can do anything. You want to share a few more deets?"

Standing a full head taller than the other "deniable assets," the burly Ork made sure not to crowd the smaller, more delicate, Elves and Humans. Most larger Metahumans learned this skill at a young age, and it made life so much simpler. Otherwise, it could appear that you were looming over someone, or inadvertently invading their personal space, just from your height and bulk alone. In Bryxton Ortiz's case, not only was he just a natural Big Boy, but the heavy MilSpec body armor that covered his muscles with slabs of strike-plates and electronics, only enhanced that impression. He was currently bereft of his helmet, which was currently clipped to his belt, and he ran a calloused hand over his shaved head as he considered Honcho's job offer.

"Sounds like a simple smash-and-grab transport heist. A museum piece probably won't attract a lot of heat. Unless there is some kind of catch. Like, the heirloom is Emperor Kenichi's boyhood diary or something. Entonces, estamos totalmente jodidos," Bricks rumbled through his tusks.

Bricks didn't like catches. If Johnson's were upfront about their wants and needs, a lot more people in his line of work would come at night. Or early morning, as the case may be. Either way, the towering Ork folded his massive arms, and leaned back against the wall, clearly awaiting for the others to answer and react.

Joe raised an eyebrow at Bryxton," Smash and grab? Would probably be better to intercept before it reaches the Museum. Where is it coming in to Seattle through?"
The  had elf gusted into the room late, dropping a pack on the floor near the orc's feet and pulling out a bundle of clothing as she offered her opinion.

Grabbing the bundle up Joe asked, " Be my curtain?" before ducking behind her roommate and striping off her Uniform and exchanging it for comfortable clothes. Listening to the rest of the intel Honcho may have for them.

Stowing the uniform carefully in her pack when done, Joe did not want to take a chance of it getting dirty. Laundry day was to far in the future for her comfort.

Rick cracked a smile, his radiant grin glowing at the others assembled. "Sounds like fun." He said with a wink for Joe, the elf's voice making the simple phrase sound decidedly lewd somehow, as he was wont to do. As ever, Rick had been itching for something to do for a while, pacing around restlessly like a caged animal. Of course, unlike a caged animal, the elf was more than capable of finding trouble. In fact, he was quite adept at finding his favorite brands of trouble: booze and women. He'd been just about ready to break free and visit some of his favorite haunts when whispers of a job came poking around.

"Been a while since we got to stretch our legs, no?"

"You lot call me The Mobile Wall for a reason, Roja," Bricks grunted in reply to Joe, without turning around.

"And of course it's gonna be fun! I just don't want us laughing ourselves into an early grave..." the big Ork scoffed at Rick.

Rick rolled his eyes, melodramatically rolling his head at the same time as he castigated Bryxton with body language alone. "Come now, don't play the spoilsport. Smile a little. Show some teeth." He said, waggling his eyebrows.