(𝟮.𝟮) 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 ➣ {𝕪•𝕓} ❘ [𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝕶𝖜𝖎𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗]

🗡𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 ❘ 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒛

📍LAS VEGAS

It didn't take much time for Y/N to track down Martinez through a satellite global facial scan with the help of DAVID. It had showed the location of a grand party for the propertied and prosperous ones in town. One the occasions that people throw just to show off their wealth.

Y/N was wearing a long, red, full sleeved dress, given that her right arm was injured due to the ambush that Elizabeth set up in her apartment. A slit on the dress reached up to her right thigh and black straps of heels crawled up her ankles. Her H/C hair was in a low bun, with a few strands of hair framing her face.

She walked into the party, trying to mingle as much as possible; her fingers would occasionally brush the gun that was strapped to her left thigh under the dress. 

Squaring her shoulders, she headed straight for the bar, brushing a strand of hair over her forehead.

"I'm here to see Mr. Martinez," she declared to the bartender.

"That's not gonna happen," the man declined at once.

"You see," she gave him a fake, sweet smile, "I wasn't asking."

He stared at her, growing intimidated by her behaviour, "I'll see what I can do," with that, the man walked out of the bar, disappearing behind a cream shade of curtain that was guarded by two buffy males in black tuxedo.

If her gut feeling was right, that was were Martinez was staying, or at least it would lead to a path where he would possibly be. All she had to do was split the guards, cause a distraction.

"On the house." 

Y/N turned around and saw another bartender with pale skin and curly brown hair. He seemed younger than most of the employees around. His simple black T-shirt did nothing to conceal his bulging biceps and his fingers were adorned with various silver rings. He slid a martini over the bar to her.

"Oh, thank you," she nodded at the bartender with a smile when he winked at her.

Turning back to the party in front of her, Y/N brought the drink to her lips to take a sip, when the bartender from earlier appeared again.

"You're not welcome here," he started, "Mr. Martinez wants nothing to do with you."

"Too bad I disagree," she rolled her eyes, and gave him a pursed smile, "I'll be on my way, then."

Y/N slammed the empty glass on the bar and walked into the party, brushing past the ladies and gent dressed lavishly, that were probably cheating on their spouses by meeting their side pieces here.

Her eyes darted to the two guards behind the curtain and decided to do something about it.

She pulled out a syringe from the pocket of her dress, that was filled with Propofol— a drug that instantly knocks a person.