𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑫 | four, six underground.

vi. I CAN HANDLE MY SHIT

"Las Vegas has more facial recognition software then anywhere else in the world." One stated.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna be!" Three excitedly drummed his fingers on the hard, wooden surface of the table the team were gathered around.

"Choose your disguises wisely."

"I'm a grown man. I can handle my shit." Three reassured.

"I don't think that's how the expression goes. Don't handle your shit, flush it down the toilet. Like a grown ass man."

"One." Zero looked up in disgust. "Are you kidding me? You actually just said that."

"And you can pipe down. You're lucky I'm actually letting you go on this mission." One pointed to the girl.

"Well whatever Three picked. I'm not wearing it." The girl pouted as she sloughed in her chair, arms crossed.

"Ok you're acting like a bratty teenager." "I am not!" "Sweetie you honestly ar-" "Oh my god I can't believe you right now, One." "You're ... You're doing it agai-" "Am not!"

     Iris chose to stick to One's 'biker' dress code. A red bandanna was included on her wrist, ready to be wrapped around her face to easily go unnoticed. The girl had rescued her outfit from the failed Florence mission. However, it almost broke her that morning, slipping into her bulletproof jacket. She found Six in that jacket. Iris knew she had to push her feelings down. This was a mission.

"Lemme guess. You two are supposed to be shite Eurovision rejects. Ladies and gents give it up for our brother and sister duo, Gunter and Greta!" Zero clapped, not being able to control her laughter when she met with Two and Three in the hotel lobby.

"Wait 'til I show the others, they will loose their shit." The girl pulled out a phone, wiping away tears as she snapped a picture of the ridiculous pair.

     Two suddenly smacked the phone from the girl's hands, it fell to the ground with a thump. She took the heel of her foot and crushed the phone into pieces.

"Yeah, I'm not paying for that..."

"What happened to 'Be subtle. Blend in. Disappear.'" Two hissed.

"Oh bjork, sweetie, I think you crossed that line long ago." Iris chuckled as she walked away.

"We're tennis players." Three dis heartedly called after her.

     The Four general's location lead to a large hotel suite. It was arraigned for strippers to be sent in before hand, as a distraction. As a 'gift from victor.' Little did the wasted generals know, the team of ghosts were making their way to that hotel room. Ready to kill.

     Iris's speciality was always knives and hand to hand combat. She preferred knives to guns, no brainier. The average person can move 21 feet in 1.5 seconds. If they have a knife, you can be gutted like a fish before the gun's trigger is even pulled. Throwing knives, hand held, Chinese ring daggers. You name it, Iris could kill with it.

     Three produced a black handgun gun from a racket bag and proceed to ring the door bell. Aof of the generals drunkenly danced toward the door, taking a glance in the peep hole. He was met with a gun. The gun fired and the sound of glass shattering confirmed the general had dropped his alcohol bottle, and was down.

     Shooting the lock off the door, the trio made their way inside of the suite. Iris secured the bandana around her face, keeping her mouth and nose were hidden. As Two and Three hid the first general's body, Zero went on search for more.