As it turned out, Hank had nearly been spot on with his guesstimate of how long it would take to accompany Sanford on a mission. It had taken around four days for Doc to pair the two up for a mission. It was a routine Soldat factory sabotage, something the two men had done dozens of times. Bringing along timed explosives, Sanford would be the one taking out the critical machinery while Hank did what came natural.

Looking through a pair of binoculars, Sanford quietly took in the outer security of the building. Two snipers on the rooftop, at least three guards outside each entrance, with three entrances that he could see from where he was crouching from. Probably a loading bay on the other side for supplies. Sanford passed the binoculars to Hank, speaking up. "So, there are a few ways I'm thinking we can do this. Option A: We go in quiet, set the explosives and get out before they realize we're even inside."

"Pass." Hank interrupted, not even bothering to elaborate any further. And considering who he was, Sanford really didn't need any more reasons.

"Alright, option B: We just blitz through as fast as we can, and fuck up everything on the way to where we gotta go."

"I vote for that one."

"Hank, let me finish, please man." Sanford got a grunt from the killer, which most people would interpret as telling them to shut the fuck up or get gutted. But Sanford worked with Hank for long enough to tell it was the type of grunt that meant he would do what was asked of him, with some reluctance. "Thanks. Now, last option: We mix the first two together, where you cause as much hell as you can, and I get to the assembly line while everyone is focused on you, and once I'm done we meet up outside." Sanford waited a few seconds for Hank to weigh in, glancing to the man. Hank had set down the binoculars, and was looking at Sanford with a raised brow. Sighing, the shirtless man dragged his hand down his face. "I'm done now. Opinions?"

"I still like Plan B. But Plan C would probably be the smart choice, considering how much they usually throw at me when they figure out I'm somewhere they really don't want me to be. Give me a five minute head start."

"Yeah, go make a shit ton of noise, make my job easier." Sanford gave Hank a thumbs-up as he went off to go slaughter at least a hundred people.

Sanford kept his eye on Hank as the man made his way to the factory, quickly taking out the guards at the nearest entrance. As soon as Hank made his way inside of the building, Sanford stood up, and began to stretch, figuring he could warm up a bit before heading around the back and picking off anyone on his way to the assembly line of the factory. After sufficiently warming up and wasting enough time for most of the facility to focus nearly all of their attention on the assuredly rampaging Hank, Sanford made his way to the back of the building, finding the loading bay entrance devoid of guards.

Quickly heading inside, Sanford readied his hook. For the first few rooms and corridors Sanford found no resistance in his path, which was pretty nice in his opinion. Although his luck ran out eventually, as Sanford entered another corridor, he nearly literally ran into a small group of Engineers, all of them having their backs to him. Letting out a short breath, the shirtless man rushed forward, swinging his hook into the side of the head of the nearest Engineer, Sanford taking the gun from the dead man's hands. As he ripped the hook out of the Engineer's head, Sanford began firing into the other Engineers, dropping the rest of the group in seconds.

Breathing out again, Sanford dropped the gun he had stolen from the Engineer, and moved to take a shotgun from another Engineer's body. Picking up the firearm, Sanford gave it a quick glance over. Standard magazine fed, semi-automatic. Sanford couldn't name the model off the top of his head like Hank probably could, but he knew enough about it to get his job done.

Sliding his hook into a loop that served as a holster for it at his hip, Sanford picked up his pace, not wanting to see if those shots alerted anyone nearby to him being there. Sanford managed to get through two more rooms uninterrupted, while his entry into the third was noticed by more Agents. Letting out a hiss, the shirtless man fired two shots at the group, three bodies dropping to the floor as Sanford ducked into cover.

Peeking from his cover, Sanford counted at least five Agents, two L33T Agents, and two more Engineers. Ducking back down to keep his head from being blown to pieces, the man slid his hook out of it's holster, figuring he hook one of them, and yank them over as a human shield. Standing up from cover and firing another two shots at the group, sending two more bodies to the floor, Sanford threw his hook overhead, yanking the wire attached, the force of pulling it back sending it stabbing through a L33T Agent's shoulder, the poor bastard dropping his gun as he screamed out in pain.

Sanford let out a grunt as he tugged at the wire, pulling the Agent closer. Once the Agent was close enough, the shirtless man rested the shotgun over the Agent's unpierced shoulder. "Y'know, I'd say I'm sorry about this, but then I'd have to start apologizing to everyone I do this to, and that's just too much work for how much I'm getting payed. But hey, bright side; You're probably only gonna feel that for like three more seconds."

The Agent looked at Sanford in terrified confusion, his lips trembling. "W-wha-" Unfortunately for him, his 'friends' didn't seem to have much of a problem taking him out if it meant having a better chance against Sanford. As the remaining group fired straight at the human shield, he let out a few screams of pain before his body shut down, nearly dropping to the floor. Sanford, not wanting his shield to go down so fast, grabbed his hook, and held up the body, gritting his teeth as he did so. Man, I really don't wanna know what kinda bullshit Hank's dealing with.

Holding up the body, Sanford fired the rest of the magazine, more bodies dropping as he moved forward. Once the shirtless man heard the dry click from the empty shogun, he heaved the human shield up, and began to charge at the few remaining Agents. In response to seeing Sanford rush at them holding a corpse of one of their own, two of the Agents held their ground, firing the last of their magazines at the man. The last one, the only one that seemed to have any real brains, decided that discretion was the better part of valor, dropping his gun and turning to run.

In a situation where he knew there wasn't anyone left for the Agent to go to, Sanford might have let the man live. Unfortunately for him, the less people that knew Sanford was here, the better. Ripping his hook out of the body's shoulder, Sanford threw the entire corpse at the two Agents firing at him, knocking them over. The shirtless man tossed his hook, yanking back once it was near enough to do what he needed to do.

The hook was thrust deep into the Agent's neck, the man letting out a short, surprised gurgle before he was yanked off of his feet, desperately trying to get the hook out as he lay there one the floor. Leaning down and picking up a pistol, Sanford fired two shots each into the two Agents trying to get to their feet. Getting close to the man with the hook, Sanford fired two shots to the poor bastard's head, ending his misery early.

After a few more empty rooms, Sanford entered the room that served as the assembly line for the Soldats. The Soldats stood on their pedestals, still yet to be activated and sent out to complete any orders given to them. Heading over to the console that sent the signal to activate the Soldats, Sanford armed the explosives and set them on the console. Stepping outside of the room, Sanford took out his communicator, and sent Hank a quick message. "I got the stuff set. We got about three minutes before the assembly line gets put out of commission for a good while."

Hank's response was nearly immediate. "Good, I kinda cleared out most of the place. I'll head back down to you, and we meet up around the back."

"Alright, see you there." With that, Sanford tucked his communicator away, and began making his way back to the loading bay entrance. The shirtless man made his way outside without any interruptions, and with nothing happening for a bit, Sanford pulled up his phone, tapping at some tower defense game that he absolutely refused to get rid of for some stupid bullshit that Deimos wanted him to download. After a bit, the sound of an explosion rocked the building, maybe bringing down a wall or two along with that console.

Hank shortly made his way outside, absolutely drenched in blood. "I liked this plan."

Sanford let out a snort. "Yeah, I'm sure you did, you psycho. C'mon, let's get out of here. I need to get Deimos some cigarettes, and he gave me a specific gas station to get them at. Honestly I'm pretty sure he's just fucking with me cause he's bored as hell not coming out with me for missions."

"Mhm. Hey, speaking of Deimos."

Sanford really didn't like how Hank segued like that. "Uh, yeah? He didn't piss you off somehow, did he? Cause, I like him, but uh, I don't know if I'm ready to die for him just yet."

Hank raised a brow, confused. "What? No. I just want to ask him for a favor, and I really don't want Doc sneaking a look at my messages and finding out."

"Oh. Yeah I can swing by and tell him. What do ya need help with?"

Hank breathed in deeply, trying to collect himself, or maybe find the words he wanted. Sanford wasn't really sure at the moment. "So, you remember that kid I told you about?"

Oh. "Yeah. What about him?"

"His name was Devin Hasting. I wanna know just what the fell happened with him. I-" Hank stopped, and let out a small huff. "It's been bugging me."

Sanford didn't say anything for a few seconds, before nodding. "Yeah, I can get him to look into it a bit more. It'll give him something to do while we're at it, so everyone wins."

Hank let out a small hum. "Thanks."

"Eh, I'm sure you'd help me out if I asked."

"As long as it's not some bullshit Deimos put you up to, I'd think about it."

Sanford let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, that's more than fair."

It had been a normal day so far for Rye. Head out to the bar, get things ready, and serve customers. Honestly it was one of the calmer days, and it sort of reminded her of how things were before she had met Deimos and the guys. The bartender stopped in the middle of cleaning a glass as the thought struck her. Part of her wondered where she would be if Deimos hadn't taken his friends out to the bar.

Thankfully, that line of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone tapping against the bar counter. "Sorry, I was thinking abo-" Turning to face the customer, Rye nearly dropped the glass in her hand. Leaning on the counter, with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, was Fenrir. "Oh. You." It wasn't a greeting, it was a simple acknowledgement that the man in front of her was actually there. "Hank's not here. He's out fucking up the Agency."

"Ah, that's too bad. I wouldn't mind sharing a drink with him. Be nice to have a bit of bonding before Ragnarök goes down in flames. Mm, speaking of drinks, Bloody Mary, if you'd please." Fenrir lifted himself off of the counter, giving Rye space to work.

Gritting her teeth, the bartender growled out, "One Bloody Mary, coming up." With that, Rye got to mixing the asshole's drink.

"You know, I'm getting the impression that you don't like me very much."

"Good." The bartender was putting all of her attention on mixing the drink, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to throw it all at the man's stupid face.

"Is it because you thought I was trying to kill your boyfriend when we met? Cause I can understand-"

"He is not my boyfriend!" Rye snapped at the man, scowling.

"Mhm, right. Anyway, don't get all worked up about it. Not like I'll even try to take a stab at him while Ragnarök's still around. Nah, I'll wait until that whole shitshow's done with before I start thinking about trying to take him out or not." Rye had taken a glass throughout Fenrir's talking, but that last bit had caused to her tense up enough to shatter the glass in her own hand. The man let out a whistle. "Damn. You need some help with that? I can-"

"What did you just say?"

"Huh?" Fenrir blinked, thinking back a few seconds. "Wait, the part about whether or not I'm gonna actually try to kill him? Oh, yeah. I mean, it's fucking Hank. You really think that the thought isn't tempting? He did a lot of fucked up shit. Killed thirty people in a park for basically no reason. Took a job to kill that dumbass Sheriff. He's the reason Nevada's as fucked as it is right now. Not that that's saying much, it was pretty bad before he broke reality, but still, principle of the thing."

Rye breathed in deeply, looking under the counter. At the bottom, an MP5 was laying there, a light layer of dust coating it. Deimos had given it to her after the first time he had brought Hank over. There were definitely a few times when she had been tempted to make a grab for it, but she had never actually tried to go for it. But right now, she was inching her way to it.

For a few seconds, Rye slowly made her way to the gun. "Oi." She froze when she heard Fenrir's voice, completely devoid of any of the light-heartedness it usually had. "That's not really a good idea. Whatever you're going for, you're gonna need to clear the counter, and then there's the chance you miss me and start hitting customers. I don't even need a gun to kill you. All I need is to get my hands on you, and I can start stabbing."

The bartender grit her teeth, breathing in slowly. "So, what? You team up with Hank, and once you're done with him you tie up loose ends?"

"No. What happens once this is all over is up to him. He won't know it, but that's the only way he'll be honest about things." Fenrir let out a sigh. "I want to know if he's the same bloodthirsty psychopath that killed thirty people over a boombox."

"Why do you care so much?"

Fenrir blinked at Rye's question, then let out a bark of laughter. "See, Hank's killed a lot of people. Brothers, sons, fathers. If they weren't the last living member of that family, someone was left grieving after Hank made his way through a place."

Rye gulped, not wanting to ask her next question. "Yeah? So who did he take from you?"

Fenrir was silent for a few seconds. "I had a younger brother. He was a dumbass, didn't think things through half the time, but he was a decent guy when he needed to be. Took a bodyguard job a while ago for the Sheriff. And, well, we all know how that turned out. He probably didn't even realize what was happening. Just took a bullet to the head, and that's that."

"So why are you even giving Hank a chance to work with you?"

Anger flashed across Fenrir's face for a few seconds. A rage that she had seen only a few times from the guys. "See, Hank didn't really discriminate when it came to killing. But he only ever killed people that could fight back. Sure, they never really had a chance against him, but they could at least throw a punch, or hold a gun, maybe get a lucky shot in, slow Hank down a bit. But the Agency? They don't give even half of a shit about what they do as long as it has a possibility of killing Hank. It's their fucking name after all. Fucked up experiments? Just a Sunday afternoon. Killing their own guys just cause Hank happens to be behind them? Drilled into their heads as soon as they join up." Fenrir let out a growl as the spikes in his fingers pushed out from his skin, digging grooves into the bar counter. "Kill a kid and try to pin it on Hank and the other guys? Easiest thing in the fuckin' world for them. As much as I really don't like working with Hank, I'm willing to give him a chance, see if he's still a prick that only thinks of himself. But the Agency, they crossed too many lines for me to stick with them anymore."

"Oh..."

"Yeah." Breathing in deeply, Fenrir did his best to regain his composure. "Anyway, I have time. An opportunity came up. Just need to talk it over with Hank."

"Right." Hearing the door open, Rye looked up, seeing Hank and Sanford walk in. "Heh, speak of the devil..."

Fenrir perked up, turning back to see the two men. "And he shall appear."