Force
"Got the cameras in one… two… three." There was a pause, followed by some clicking on a keyboard. "Done. Good to go."
"That's a boy." A quiet voice replied. The man who the quiet voice belong to turned and made eye contact with a blonde headed young woman across the room. She nodded and walked forward, her extremely slinky dress moving to reveal her long, tanned leg in the slit up the side. The man turned away from her and next made eye contact with a slight man who nodded and maneuvered through the crowd, making his way to him.
The slight man pretended to serve some wine to the quiet man. "There are only several guards here. But there a more upstairs."
"Well, upstairs is our goal." The quiet man sipped at his wine and then said quietly, "Cosette, how are things?"
A small young woman was crawling in the air ducts. Her red hair was cut short and curly. She wore a sleek leather coat that was the color of fawn. She chuckled and said, "Oh, monsieur Nicholas, it is going good. There are guards, oui, but they are distracted by a game." Cosette paused and said, "They call it football, but it is not football."
"American football. Like rugby." The man in the van said from around a sandwich.
"Eating again, Asher?" The blonde woman said as she walked toward the mark. But she found another woman already there. A British woman. She narrowed her eyes.
"Leave me alone, Liberty." Asher replied grumpily. "Oh snap." He said as his sandwich dropped to the floor.
"Oh snap?" The slight man repeated.
"Slang term, Hiro. Like…" The quiet man, Nicholas, began.
"Crap." Cosette said.
"Exactly!" Nicholas said, glad that she had finished for him.
"No, crap, as in mon dieu, someone else is here." Cosette stared into the eyes of a blonde woman in the air vent.
"Oh." Nicholas said. He scanned the room. "Asher?"
"Yeah. Another hacker."
"Liberty?"
"Yeah, someone's working over the mark." Liberty scowled and then bumped into the mark absently. "Oh pardon me… Hey! Aren't you Mr. Crawley?" She asked, her voice full of enthusiasm. She moved so as to block the other woman.
"Hiro?" Nicholas turned toward his hitter, a slight Japanese man that had been in the army.
"Hai. Another hitter." Hiro was in a hallway, facing the other hitter. A burly man with long hair. "Nice to meet you, Hitter-san." He said, making the traditional bow to the man. He straightened up, his eyes hard and cold.
"What about you Nicky?" Asher asked, typing away furiously.
"Yep. Nate Ford." He said.
"Ford? Like the car?" Cosette asked curiously.
"Shut it, Frenchie." Liberty muttered slightly, still trying to distract Mr. Crawley, the mark, from the other grifter.
"Nicholas Schyuler! Aren't you… The heir to the Schyuler Franchise?" Nate asked, approaching.
"Aren't you an insurance salesman?" Nicholas asked sarcastically. He spoke to his team, "Keep going. Don't let them stop you." He was quiet.
Asher snorted. "Right."
Hiro stepped into a fighting stance, "Hai."
Cosette cocked her head. "Oui."
Liberty deftly guided the mark away. "Of course."
Nicholas turned to Nate. "Let's talk."