Beastars: A Symphony of Life

Chapter 104: Plans Part 2

"Keep it simple," the coyote reminded them.

"Yeah," the raccoon agreed. "Pass-byes?"

"As always," the coyote answered. "Shower room, cells...easy stuff."

The raccoon reached for another slice of pizza in the hotel room and the coyote crushed his can of beer with a tattooed hand, tossing it in the trash. The word "SAINT" was printed on each of his knuckles, and he liked to cover the "S" with his thumb.

"I say we go with a riot," the eagle said, from his place by the window, looking out over the building's entrance. "Our people can get it done in a riot."

"Oh no no no," the coyote said, raising his hand at the bird. "No chaos. I don't want the goon squad rolling in and stealing our shot. This has got to be fast, and quiet. Just boom, boom, boom. You know what I'm saying? Riot can come later. When they need to escape."

"Yeah," the raccoon said, mouth half full of dough. "Surgical."

"Surgical," the coyote repeated. "That's what it's got to be."

The canine looked over his shoulder at their client, who was silently sitting and paying them no mind, eyes fixed and admiring a painting. He hadn't seemed to have been paying attention after he said what he wanted.

"So how many guys we got at the men's prison?" the coyote asked.

"Mmm...three," the eagle said, after a moment of remembrance. "But Kam makes the schedule now so we can put who we want, where we want, when we want."

"And Jebediah can switch around transfers if we need more," the raccoon added.

"Alright," the coyote said, lighting a cigarette. "That's the men's prison covered and the biggest hurdle cleared. What about the ladies?"

"We'll need G-block and Valencia right?" the cheetah asked.

The coyote nodded and she nodded back.

"My girls are on the night shift," she admitted.

"Well, have them pull a double," the coyote ordered.

The feline shook her head.

"The supervisor's got some hard-on about-"

"Well, have them switch with someone," he interrupted. "I don't know, just get it done."

"We got enough in both," the raccoon butted in before it got too heated. "Hitters ain't the problem, it's the short window."

They all cast a glance at their guest.

"It's gonna be tight," the coyote said, a bit louder so as to catch his attention. "Real tight."

He took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled before turning to the black-leather-clad figure, who still hadn't taken his eyes off the painting.

"You know I got to be straight with you man," the canine said, standing to walk over to him. "Taking out all these people at once, it's doable. But hitting them in two separate jails and some on the outside all within a few, short minutes? Assassinating a political figure isn't this complicated."

"Where do you suppose these come from?" the client asked, the voice muffled through his gas mask. "I've seen this one before."

The coyote took a double take and looked at the hybrid standing behind him. The leopard-gazelle that was with him just shrugged.

"I wonder," the masked animal continued. "Are they all in some giant warehouse someplace?"

The coyote looked to his fellow compatriots who all shook their heads, advising him against what he wanted to do. He looked at the unmasked hybrid, who gave him a daring look. Almost like he wanted to see what would happen. The coyote stood and carefully brought his hand in front of the masked animal and snapped three times to catch his attention. Razor slowly turned his head and just stared at the canine. He didn't say a word, or make any other move. He didn't even breathe. That was the freakiest thing of all.