RWBY: Book of Thieves

The Menace in the Machine – Barside Beatdown

Ruby like running as fast as humanly possible and Blake preferred sticking to the shadows, but that wasn't Yang's style. If you asked her, if you got it, flaunt it. So it should have come as no surprise to anyone that the Blonde boxer could be seen practically strutting down the cobblestone road, shaking her hips enticingly, and jutting out her chest for extra attention, wearing her favorite aviator glasses and a cocky grin…. And when she tripped on a loose stone and fell in an undignified heap on the ground, she decided that wearing sunglasses at sunset might not be the smartest thing right now. She quickly stowed them away in her jacket, coughing in to her fist, looking around hoping no one saw her, and resumed her confident strut.

Over her earpiece, she heard Weiss give an insufferable sigh.

"What are you doing, Xiao-Long?" she grumbled; Yang could practically hear the scowl on the other side.

"Heading over to The Salty Dog right now," said Yang like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That was my mission assignment, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but I figured you'd get over there, you know, stealthily, like a thief is supposed to be," said Weiss exasperatedly. "You do know that Watts has men searching all over the island for us, right?"

"You said my job to, and I quote, 'walk into the Salty Dog, kick their asses, and then stow them away somewhere no one will find them'," Yang repeated in a falsetto pitched voice that was, apparently, supposed to mimic Wiess's; the hacker emitted a low growl over the comms. "The way I figure it, if I'm gonna spend the night manhandling some ugly grunts, there's no point in sneaking around, right?"

"That's not what I – " Weiss started to say before she was cut off.

"Oy! You there! Stop!"

"Speaking of which," said Yang with a hint of mirth.

Yang turned on her heel and smiled plainly as two stereotypically thuggish henchmen hurried down the street toward her, stopping on either side of her with suspicious glares. One of them apparently recognized her because they had the sense to scroll through their phone and started looking through INTERPOLS most wanted list (something Watts no doubt ordered his men to download). He paused after a few seconds and flipped the phone around for them to see the screen. It was of the mugshot Yang had taken when she allowed herself to get arrested during a job in Beijing, winking flirtatiously at the camera with her hands folded behind her head and sticking out her chest, taking up half the shot.

"Well, 'ello there, lassie," the grunt with the phone said with a thick cockney accent. "Looks 'ere like we gots ourselves a nasty lil' thief in our midst."

"That is a nice photo, lass," said the second grunt, earning an annoyed leer from his partner.

"I can never take a bad picture," said Yang haughtily.

"Well, regardless, the ol' doctor will wanna be seein' you, lass," said the first thug, grabbing Yang roughly by the forearm. "Come along, then."

The Rose Gang knew from personal experience that there were times when Yang got angry enough that he eyes almost looked like they turned red. Those occasions usually happened during one of three scenarios: touching her luscious mane of golden hair, putting mayonnaise on a hot dog ("what kind of sick monster does that!"), and men thinking they could pull her or her girls around. Three guesses where this scenario fell in….

Yang bared her teeth as she reached around and grabbed the goon by the wrist, trapping his in a vie-like grip until he let go with a humiliating whimper. She then twists his arm around until it is extended behind his back, letting out a howl of pain, before Yang brought her knee up to connect with his nose. As his head flew back, droplets of blood flying through the air, Yang let go of his arm and turned on her heel for a spinning roundhouse to the underside of his chin. The thug went flying into the nearby alley where he landed headfirst into a trash bin by happy coincidence.

The second henchman tried to jump her while he back was turned, but Yang sharply threw her elbow back into his stomach to stop him in his tracks. Yang flipped around and nailed him across the face with a right hook, then quickly pulled back to sock him in the other direction. The blonde brawler followed up with a flurry of punches to the chest before hitting him with an uppercut that knocked him off his feet. And in that brief moment when he was off the ground, Yang jumped into the air, stomped her heels against his chest, and flipped backwards, gracefully landing on her feet while the goon disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway on the opposite side of the street.

Yang brushed the imaginary dust off her jacket, touched the communicator in her ear and said, grinning, "Like I said, no point in hiding."

"You are insufferable," Weiss groaned over the earpiece. "The Salty Dog should be around the corner from where you are. Ruby is on her way to the first alarm system and Blake is getting close to Laboratory 6. I don't know how their missions are going to turn out, but at the very least, you could take the heat off of them for a little while."

"Relax, I got this," said Yang confidently. "Nobody kicks off a bar fight like me – just ask Junior."

Yang rounded the corner and there, fifteen or so feet down the road, was her target: The Salty Dog. Being an avid party girl and a 'connoisseur' of alcohol, Yang had been to a lot of seedy-looking taverns in her time, and in her expert opinion, the Salty Dog was at least middle-rank as far as pubs go. It looked like someone actually took care of the place since the wooden paneling wasn't rotted away like the rest of the town and the seafoam-green paint looked brand new. Yang could hear lively swing music coming through the open windows – the owner probably had them removed from all the times people went flying through them – and drunken cheers rang out. A square wooden sign hung above the door with the pub's name written in a fancy looping scrawl. The Blonde brawler gave the pub an appreciative look before she stepped inside.

As she expected the building was crowded with dozens of brutish-looking British thugs all of them in full swing of the lively atmosphere. Some people were sitting in the back, playing cards and drinking responsibly like good little guards, while others were dancing on tables, swinging their frothy mugs around, and singing, off tune, to the radio blasted at full volume on the counter. And not a single person even noticed Yang when she walked into the building, which was, like, totally rude in Yang opinion. I mean, who wouldn't stop and stare at five-foot-eight of pure, hot sexiness like her?

Yang practically had to shove her way toward the counter (seriously, did no one see the drop-dead gorgeous bombshell standing right in front of them?) and banged her fist on the wood. The bartender had his back turned to her, already in the process of mixing another customer's drink. He didn't turn around when he asked, "What can I get for you?"

"Strawberry sunrise. No ice. Oh, and one of those little umbrellas," Yang answered automatically; it was her go-to pick whenever she stopped off for a drink.

"Huh, funny, that reminds me of – OH GOD, NOT YOU AGAIN!" The bartender screamed shrilly when he turned around to face her.

"Junior?"

Sure enough, it was her old "friend" Hei Xiong, otherwise known by his street name, Junior (why a grown man would willingly be called Junior, Yang had no idea). And judging by the way the old bartender was practically quaking in his recently polished shoes, he clearly knew who she was. That came as no surprise since Yang has regularly visited, and subsequently destroyed, his night club in China during her younger years with the Branwen Tribe. Despite hiring what seemed like hundreds of goons to keep her out, Yang always managed to find a way to break in a wreck the place. It wasn't like she did it intentionally, she argued, she just didn't like people touching hair. A year before she and Ruby left the tribe, Junior finally called it quits, packed up the whole club, and moved to a completely different country…until Yang caught up to him again, and again, and again….

"How do you keep finding me," Junior moaned, practically a whimper, flattening himself against the wall as if she were some kind of monster. "Everywhere I go, you're always there: Tahiti, Cancun, Las Vegas, Rome, Monte Carlo, Disney World. Are you stalking me or something?"

"No, those are just a bunch of happy coincidences," said Yang, leaning against her hand with a devilish grin. "What're you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, Junior. This is the last place I would think you'd end up."

"That was the point," Junior groaned. "I thought I would finally be able to get away from you here. Should've known better.

"Yeah, you should've," Yang teased, taking a quick glance around. "Hey, are the twins here? I wanted to say hi."

"Nah, they quit after the whole Disney World thing," said Junior unhappily. "They were tired of getting beat up and said the pay wasn't worth it."

"Aw, that's too bad," said Yang, pouting. "I always had such a good time with them…during and after the fighting," she added with a suggestive wink.

"God, someone kill me right now," Weiss complained in her ears; Yang honestly forgot the hacker was listening.

"Please, blondie, please tell me you're not here to start trouble," Junior was practically begging, hands folded in a pleading motion. "I've almost made it three months without any incidents and I'm finally starting to pay off my debts for the other places you trashed. Please say you're not going to destroy the place."

"Oh, Junior…," said Yang softly, patting his head in a mocking sort of way. "You should know me better than that by now."

"…Can you at least wait until I put all the good stuff away?" Junior pleaded.

Yang paused for a moment, thinking, and said, "Give me my Strawberry Sunrise and you'll have until I'm done with it."

Like magic, a glass of fruity alcohol materialized on the counter and into Yang's waiting hand. The blonde brawler lightly sipped her beverage while Junior frantically started collecting all the bottle on the shelf, fully ignoring the other customers her were beating their fists on the counter demanding to get drunk. Yang let out a short chuckle, flipped around, leaning against the bar, and surveyed her surroundings while nursing her drink. Somewhere around twenty or thirty standard henchmen, about the same height and build as the ones from the security station, none of them carrying guns, which almost made Yang feel bad for packing her double shotguns – almost. Yang had vivid flashbacks of her earliest fights in Junior's first nightclub, and so did Junior, if his increased pacing was anything to go by.

Yang knocked the last of her Strawberry Sunrise and dropped the glass on the counter with a clatter, which Junior let out a terrified whimper at – time was up.

She grabbed the nearest goon at the bar by the back of his coat and dragged him into the middle of the saloon. The other patrons stopped what they were doing and stared curiously. Once she had all eyes on her Yang coughed importantly into her fist before lifting the thug over her head with the greatest of ease.

"Hey…riot…," Yang announced casually.

It was like a switch had been flipped. One moment everyone was enjoying their time off, hanging out with the friend over drinks and cards; then the next moment, the whole bar exploded with inexplicable outrage. Friends quickly turned into enemies, grabbing bottles off the tables and smashing them over their neighbor's heads; tables were flipped, chairs were thrown against the wall, reduced to kindling, and every single goon was throwing punches at the nearest conscious body. Yang grinned, admiring her work, as she casually threw the goon over her head into the angry crowd.

"Heh, works every time," said Yang, patting herself on the back.

Of course, she momentarily forgot that she was in the middle of a practical warzone until one of the henchmen tackled her into the ground from behind. The blonde brawler quickly threw her arms out to catch herself and flipped around on her back. She crossed her arms over her face to block a punch from the guy straddling her waist, pushed him back a little, and returned it with a sharp jab that broke his nose with an audible crack. The goon jumped to his feet, crying out as he held his bleeding nose, giving Yang a chance to shoot up and strike with a powerful uppercut that lifted him off his feet. The henchman shot up to the ceiling, shaking the hanging light fixtures, and fell back onto the ground face first, unmoving.

Yang brushed herself off while casually dodging a beer bottle that flew past her head. She looked around the bar. The magic phrase had gotten everyone riled up like she wanted it to (how it even worked was a question for another time), and at least three or four people were knocked out on the floor, including the one Yang nailed. Yang shook her head with an amused grin, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

"You'd think with an all-out bar fight going on, there'd be waaay more people knocked out by now," she said. She sighed and reached behind her belt, whipping out her double shotguns, seamlessly loading them at the same time. "Oh well, more fun for me."

Yang sauntered her way over to two thickheaded goons who were taking turns punching each other in the face, stopping momentarily when the golden brawled stepped between them. In that brief pause, Yang stomped her boot on the toes of the goon standing on her left, making the man hop up and down, howling like a wounded dog, then threw an elbow strike at the man on her right. As the henchman doubled over, Yang brought her knee up to connect with his chin (his teeth clicked hard enough to hear over the ruckus), then blasted him in the chest with her shotgun when his head flew back. The goon flew into two more thugs as they flew into the wooden wall, breaking a shelf full of expensive-looking items (Yang heard Junior's pained squeals from the other side of the bar). Yang then flipped around to the other thug with a spinning roundhouse to the side of his face, flipping the goon around so that his back was to her. Yang didn't waste a moment blasting him in the back, sending the henchman crashing into the floor face first, then leaped forward and stomped on the back of his head for good measure.

Yang quickly moved on to the next thug in front of her, kicking him in the chest to get his attention before blasting him into the ceiling with her shotguns. She flipped around to dropkick the next thug, smacking his head against the counter, then moved on to the next in line with a swinging clothesline, driving him into the floor. The blonde brawler straightened herself up, flipping her hair out of her eyes, and turned around toward the bar where Junior was cowering behind (while ducking a random henchman that went sailing over her head). She rapped her knuckles on the counter, startling Junior.

"Hey, can I get another Strawberry Sunrise?" she asked politely, and backfisted a goon coming up to her from behind.

"Seriously?" asked Junior, dumbfounded, gesturing to the chaos she created.

"Hey, beating up bad guys is thirsty work," Yang argued.

Junior rolled his eyes irritable, but nonetheless dived underneath the bad where he stashed all his good product, and came back up with another glass. Yang knocked back the entire thing in one gulp like a pro…then spun around and smashed the glass over the head of the goon that bumped her shoulder, knocking him out instantly.

"…Are you even going to pay for anything?" Junior asked broodingly, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," said Yang teasingly, popping her lips at the 'p', spun around on her heels and walked back into the fight.

By now, most of the thugs in the room were getting tired of beating on each other and started focusing on her – she was the one who started the riot after all. Yang didn't mind; it'd be boring if she only got to knock around a few skulls.

Yang blasted her shotgun into the gun of the henchman charging at her from the front, throwing him into a pile of unaware goon, and kicked backwards at another thug coming at her from behind. She spotted another goon out of the corner of her eye and dropped to the floor when he tried to trap her in a bearhug. Yang knocked him off his feet with a sweeping kick and followed up with a shotgun shell to the chest that slammed him into one of the light fixtures, shattering the bulb and showering them in bits of glass. The guards around her threw their hands over their heads to protect their faces from the falling shards, which Yang, not afraid of a few cuts, took full advantage off. The blonde brawler charged at the closest guard in front of her, jumping up and slamming her heels into his chest while propelling herself backwards into another henchman, pounding him into the floor with a heavy dropkick from above. The unfortunate sucker who had been standing next to him had no time to defend himself before smashed his face with the butt of her shotgun and then kicked him away, sending him flying over the counter where Junior was hidden.

Someone shouted behind Yang and the blonde bruiser barely looked over her shoulder when she spotted her next opponent, who finally had the sense to grab a weapon, even if it was a barstool. Yang sidestepped when the guard smashed the stool where she previous stood, effectively reducing it to kindling. The golden fighter threw her elbow into the man's gut, knocking the wind out of him, then sent him flying across the bar with a spinning roundhouse to the face. Not even a second after the first one was gone a second guard came running up to her swinging a broken table leg. Yang easily deflected the makeshift weapon with one shotgun while she shot the man in the shoulder with the other, forcing him to drop the table leg, then lifted her right foot and kicked the guard under his chin, throwing him unconscious onto his back.

The fight continued in much the same way. The floor was littered with at least a dozen unconscious bodies by now, but there were still at least fourteen or fifteen henchmen left. Yang wasn't particularly worried; no one had managed to land a single hit on her.

"C'mon, you boys aren't getting tired, are ya?" Yang taunted. "I haven't even gotten warmed up."

The uncanny timing of the way the tavern door was kicked open lead Yang to believe that someone had been standing outside waiting for her to say something for a dramatic entrance. The thug that walked in was a lot more muscular than the others, but that was probably so that he could carry that freakin' minigun on his shoulder! But what caused Yang's eyes to go wide wasn't his hulking frame or the heavy ammunition he was carrying…it was the black and red neon bear mask.

"DJ Deadb3ar?" said Yang surprisingly. She turned to Junior, her brow raised so far into her hairline. "Wait, you couldn't hold on to the twins, but you kept the DJ…for a bar that gets its music from a radio."

"He's my nephew," said Junior blandly. "His parents bummed him off on me because they didn't want him."

"And the reason he's so jacked is…?" Yang asked slowly.

"He's been taking yoga lately," Junior replied.

That…makes absolutely zero sense, Yang thought.

Of course, that hardly seemed to matter when the unnaturally buff former DJ lowered his minigun and started unloading the entire clip, swinging it around without bothering to take aim. Yang quickly rolled of out the way of the hailstorm of bullets that went whizzing over her head, taking cover behind an upturned table. The other bar patrons were running around, screaming and ducking their heads trying to find the nearest exit; the former DJ didn't seem to take any of them into consideration when he started shooting up the place. And as much of a criminal Yang was herself, she wasn't about to let a bunch of people be killed because of a dangerously negligent, yoga buffed, ex-DJ. She needed to give them a chance to escape – she needed to get Deadb3ar's attention.

"Hey, baby bear!" Yang shouted, suddenly jumping up from her hiding place, waving her arms around. "How can you're aim suck so bad when you literally just have to point and shoot?"

That did it, Yang thought. The beefy DJ lugged the minigun around pointed at Yang and let loose a lethal spray. Yang dashed away from her spot as the bullets reduced the table to wood shavings. The blonde brawler purposely ran around the edges of the tavern, leading DJ Deadb3ars barrel away from the other henchmen. Speaking of whom, most of them were clogging up the entryway to the bar that some of them, started throwing themselves out the windows – Yang thought she saw one of them climbing the stairs to the roof. Yang shook her head exasperatedly; looks like she was going to need to keep him busy for a while.

"Seriously, how are you so bad at this?" Yang taunted, kicking off the wall to flip backwards over the bullet spray. "You couldn't hit the broadside of the barn if it were three feet in front of you!"

It might have been her imagination, but she thought DJ Deadb3ar actually growled at her. He seemed to be chasing her more intently as Yang led his trail to the opposite side of the bar.

"Must be because of that stupid bear head thing you're still wearing!" Yang shouted teasingly as she ran on top of the counter; Junior let out a frightened squeak as the bullets riddled the wall above him. "I'll bet you're super ugly under that thing! I bet you're so ugly that when you look in the mirror, your reflection slaps itself!"

The former DJ stomped furiously closer as he followed the blonde brawler, who had jumped off the counter, kicked off the wall, and dropped into a graceful slide under the shower of bullets before picking herself up. Yang stooped down for a quick second, snatching up an empty glass mug, and tossed it without looking. The glass smashed against the DJ's bear head, causing the mask to tilt slightly and obscure his vision. He stumbled drunkenly backwards, his finger still on the trigger and shooting uncontrollably at the ceiling. DJ Deadb3ar took one hand away from the minigun and used it to correct his mask just in time to see Yang swoop in from the front.

The former DJ swung his minigun like a club, but Yang effortlessly hopped over the weapon, using one hand to push herself over like a pommel horse. She stomped both boots into the DJs chest, which didn't make him fall over like she was hoping, but it was enough to unsteady him. When she landed on her feet, Yang pointed her shotgun away, pulled the trigger, and used the recoil of the shot to drive her elbow into Deadb3ar's chest with double the force, making him double over with a pained groan. Yang reached forward, grabbed the former DJ by the back of his head, and brought his face down to meet her rising knee, disorienting him. Then, with all the strength her smaller body could muster, Yang picked up the beefy DJ, raising him clear over her head, and then threw him at the counter. The wooden bar crumbled under his weight, and Junior, now exposed from his hiding spot, grabbed as many bottles of expensive alcohol as he could hold, and scurried off into the corner like a frightened rat.

Yang took this brief pause in the action to empty the barrels of her shotguns and reload them with new rubber-filled shells; she had designed this weapon back in the village to fire off multiple rounds instead of the traditional two, having the foresight to know she would be using them for…unorthodox methods. But at the same time, DJ Deadb3ar started to raise himself from the broken shambles of the bar, rubbing his bear mask like it was his actual head. Yang was actually impressed - the first time she used that move on the DJ back in Junior's first club, it had knocked him out in an instant. The former emcee shook his head and Yang was very sure he was glaring at her through his eyeholes.

"What's the matter, big boy?" Yang said mockingly, shaking her hips enticingly. "Can't handle a real woman?"

DJ Deadb3ar hefted the minigun and aimed it squarely at Yang's chest with the blonde brawler, who made no effort of moving out of the way and waved at him teasingly. When the former emcee pulled the trigger, all he got was a sharp click! The bear-headed man looked at his weapon, tilting his head confused, then looked back at Yang. The golden boxer was grinning from ear-to-ear as she dangled something in front of her – it was the gun's ammunition chain.

"Ooh, tough luck," said Yang, tossing the ammo over her shoulder. "Whaddya gonna do now?"

Yang had meant that to be a cue for him to surrender, so she was genuinely surprised when the beefy DJ flipped the minigun around so he was holding it by the long barrel and lifted it like a baseball bat. DJ Deadb3ar charged across the tavern like a raging bull and swung his weapon from the side, barely giving Yang enough time to raise her arms in defense. She slid sideways, nearly over a pile of broken wood, her arms still defending either side of her head as the hulking emcee came after her, wailing on her left and right with his gun-turned-blunt-instrument. Now Yang was pretty durable, but getting pounded on by fifty pounds of solid metal was really starting to make her arms sting. Even worse when one particularly heavy swing knocked Yang off-balance, causing her to stumble and leave her wide open for a brutal swing to the gut. The blonde bruiser was thrown clear across the room like a ragdoll, smashing into the shelf behind what was once the counter and dropped forward on her front, where she had the misfortune to land on top of the bottles that Junior had left behind.

Yang bit her tongue to stop herself from crying out. She could feel the sharp points of the broken glass digging into her chest through the thin material of her shirt, which was drenched in a mixture of strong alcohols that made even Yang dizzy when breathing in the fumes. She pushed herself up to her knees, holding back the wince as the glass cut into her legs, and shook her messy golden mane. She leered up at DJ Deadb3ar, who was practically swaggering as he shouldered the minigun, silently taunting her. Yang breathed heavily through her nose and exhaled quietly through her mouth. She calmly climbed to her feet and brushed the glass off herself before turning back.

"Okay…now I'm upset," she said coolly.

She pumped both shotguns and launched herself at the former emcee.

DJ Deadb3ar swung the minigun for Yang's head, but the blonde bruiser carefully ducked underneath it's reached. The emcee swung the other way, but Yang once against slid underneath and was now standing inches away from her opponent. She pointed one of the shotguns at the DJ's head, but the former entertainer narrowly managed to pull back before the shot went off. He wasn't as fortune, however, when Yang crossed the other shotgun over her chest and aimed it at his shoulder, blasting him at pointblank range. The bear-headed performer only stumbled a couple paces and started to raise his minigun again, but Yang turned sharply on her heels and shot the man in the forearm, forcing him to drop his weapon on the ground with a heavy clatter. With no way of defending himself, DJ Deadb3ar became the victim to Yang's signature rapid-fire explosions. The blonde brawler relentlessly fired off every rubber-filled shell in both guns, splattering him in a colorful array of glowing-red welts and purplish-blue bruises. But despite the brutal beating he was taking the jacked-up DJ was not falling down – he was a tough SOB, Yang had to admit.

And then, the most horrific and terrifying thing in the history of humanity occurred.

Desperate to get out of the painful flurry, DJ Deadb3ar reached forward and desperately grabbed anything that would stop her. His fingers managed to wrap around something soft, so her pulled with all his might. A sharp ripping noise filled the tavern and the shotguns stopped firing at once. DJ Deadb3ar looked around, momentarily confused. Yang was still standing in front of him, staring wide-eyed at the former entertainer, her shotguns falling out of her limp hands. On the other side of the bar, Junior's mouth was open so wide it looked like he was screaming, but his voice refused to come out. The former DJ, possibly wondering why everyone was acting so weird, looked down at his hand and felt a chill of silent horror run up his spine.

There, wrapped between his meaty fingers, were several strands of Yang's hair.

"You…," Yang muttered in a low, deathly tone.

"Oh shit," Weiss gasped over the comm unit.

"Oh shit," Junior murmured.

"Oh shit," DJ Deadb3ar whimpered, the first thing he said the entire fight.

Oh shit, said the terrified author writing this.

And then – Yang exploded.

"YOU MONSTER!"

Yang's fist was clenched so tightly it could shatter diamonds as she pulled her hand back, her teeth bared like a savage dragon, her violet eyes flashing furious red, and her golden seemed to flare almost as if it were on fire. DJ Deadb3ar did not defend himself as Yang took a thunderous step forward and swung her fist with all her might – whether it was because he was too terrified to move or knew it was pointless to block was unknown. Yang's knuckles buried themselves deep into the fabric of the bear mask, ripping it in half, and sent the muscular emcee flying across the tavern through the wooden wall next to Junior's corner. Through the gaping hole in the wood, Yang saw the former DJ rocket across the street and smash through the building on the opposite side of the rode. He didn't get back up.

Her enemy defeated and her revenge satisfied, Yang took a deep, cleansing breath; her internal blaze declined to a calming ember.

The blonde bruiser cracked the kinks in her stiff neck and shook her pleasantly throbbing hands. She stooped down to pick up her shotguns and holstered them on her belt before turning to Junior, who looked to be on the verge of crying. Yang chuckled to herself as she approached the now out-of-business bartender and stopped a few feet away with her hands on her hips, grinning smugly.

"Strawberry – " She hardly got a word in before Junior held up a glass of her favorite, his hand shaking violently. "Now that's what I call service." She snatched the glass out of his hand, took a long, victorious sip of her fruity reward, then touched the communicator in her ear. "Hey, Weiss, bar's all clear."

"Yeah, I saw," Weiss responded dryly. "You didn't kill that guy, did you?"

"Nah, he's fine…I think," Yang said after a thoughtful pause. "I took out a lot of the guys here, but a few of them got away while I was beating down baby bear. Is that gonna be a problem?"

"Normally, I would reprimand you for your carelessness," said Weiss critically. "But, fortunately for you, your mission wasn't a total failure. As we speak, Watts is receiving over two dozen resignation letters via e-mail, and the island security feed shows a swarm of terrified Englishmen sprinting toward the docks. Looks like you managed to scare them off. This will be an enormous help during the big heist."

"Glad to help," said Yang, taking another swig. "How're the others doing?"

"Blake managed to successfully infiltrate Laboratory 6 and is heading to the mainframe as we speak," answered Weiss. "Ruby's heading for the last alarm, but she's being chased by Winter and her new partner."

"Sucks to be her," said Yang nonchalantly. "Need me to help out?"

"No, Ruby can handle herself," said Weiss. "I need you back at the hide out so that we can make final preparations for the heist."

"On my way back," Yang answered as the commlink cut out. She downed the rest of her drink, carelessly tossed the empty glass over her shoulder, and turned back to Junior. "Well, time for me to be hitting the road. And it looks like you're going to need a new place," she added, taking a quick look around the destroyed tavern. "Any ideas where you're planning to open up shop, next?"

"Are you kidding me?" said Junior aghast. "There's no way I'm telling you!"

"Eh, it doesn't matter," said Yang, shrugging her shoulders. "I'll find you…I always do…," she finished with a menacing tone and a devilish grin.

Yang threw back her head and laughed as Junior's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he passed out in pure terror. The golden bruiser left the bar, whistling a happy little tune with a spring in her step.