Ludwig nodded to Gilbert across from him. His older brother winked, back to the wall. He mouthed something to Ludwig, but the younger couldn't catch quite what he said. They both tensed when they heard footsteps approaching from the other end of the hallway. Ludwig hoped the late hour would deter any guests from exiting their rooms.

Ludwig clicked on his microphone.

"Do you have it?" The voice was surprisingly cheerful for the situation at hand. "Ah, good. I have no idea why you picked the Four Seasons, but I'm betting it's because you like to gamble. After all, who knows who you ticked off getting this to me! Maybe the government…"

He had pissed off the Beilschmidt brothers' employers.

"Don't like t' gamble."

There was the sound of rustling paper. "Well, that's interesting. I learn new things every time we meet—what's your code name, Lion? That's cute. It all seems to be here. Now, as for payment…"

And then it all went to hell.

A third set of footsteps approached the voices. "Oh, hello," the tired yet enthusiastic voice greeted, "Do you know where the three hundreds are? I've been looking for my room for ages and I keep ending back up at the two hundreds, even though the sign says the three hundreds should be here—is that a gun?"

Ludwig was very calmly panicking. His brother seemed to be doing the same thing, though less calm; he pulled out his gun. Ludwig shook his head, glaring. Surely, Tino couldn't be serious—why would he shoot an innocent person who didn't even know what they had walked in on?

"Hello!" Tino responded brightly. "I don't think it will matter if I help you find your room or not. I'm really, really sorry, but I'm going to have to kill you. Well, eventually. My boss will probably want to meet your first."

"Kill him?" Tino's partner asked.

"Kill me?!" The man echoed, panic making his voice squeak. "Please don't kill me, I won't tell anyone that you won't help me find my room! I can just go down to the desk and ah—please don't point that at my head!" He sounded close to tears.

Gilbert and Ludwig, meanwhile, were having a silent argument.

'We have to help him!' Ludwig mouthed, gripping his gun.

'No, we have to get the Boss' big goons to help him,' Gilbert mouthed back, waving his arms around. 'Fat lot of good we'll do against Ti-no! You read his file!'

Ludwig glared. 'We can't let him kill that man.'

'He's not going to kill him right away—you heard him.'

Ludwig rolled his eyes and stepped out from behind the corner of the wall, gun honing in on the small blond. Tino was a lot more menacing in his mug shot; the man before him looked slightly bewildered at Ludwig's entrance.

"Oh, look, Berwald," Tino chuckled, "They sent goons."

Berwald was a mountain of a man. He towered over Tino, glaring at Ludwig. He grunted in agreement with Tino, taking a step closer towards him. Ludwig hoped dearly that Gilbert had followed his lead and that he wasn't standing out in the middle of the hallway alone.

The man who Tino was currently pointing a gun at smiled desperately at Ludwig. "Do you know where the three hundreds are?!"

Tino let out a faint, annoyed sigh and prodded the man with his gun. "Shush." He turned back to Ludwig, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet. "I bet you probably want to save him, right? Hm… What do you think, Berwald?"

The man glared. "Kill him."

Tino nodded, laughing. "Oh, now you have no problem killing people willy-nilly." He observed Ludwig. "If you haven't shot me already, but you have a gun, you're probably not a police officer. What're you doing here, goony?"

Ludwig gripped his gun and refused to answer.

Tino shrugged. "Alright, then." He raised his gun to the man's head. The man let out a desperate laugh.

"Recording," Ludwig finally said, glaring back at Berwald. "We were recording your transaction."

Tino nodded, lowering the gun. "Oh, I see. Well, how about a little trade? You give me the recording, and I won't kill your friend here." Tino smiled, prodding the man with the gun.

Ludwig gritted his teeth and nodded. He ripped off his wire, holding it in his free hand. "Send the man over, first."

Tino frowned slightly. "You don't trust me? Well, then, I don't trust you either. We'll do a tradeoff. Your friend—what's your name?— Feliciano will walk halfway towards you, then you'll toss the recorder over and he can run the rest of the way. Good?"

Ludwig nodded and the smile returned to Tino's face.

"Alright! Feliciano, walk to room… Hm, what do you think, Berwald?"

"Two-twenty."

"Walk to room two-twenty and stop, or I'll shoot you in the back of the head." Tino gestured with his gun. "Go."

Feliciano was close to tears and he stumbled forward. Ludwig's eyes were glued on Tino, making sure the man didn't decide to shoot the both of them, anyways. Ludwig was wearing a bullet-proof vest, but Feliciano…

"Stop," Ludwig snapped when Feliciano almost passed the room.

"The recording," Berwald rumbled.

Ludwig sighed and tossed the recorder. Tino caught it neatly then shot Feliciano in the back of the knee. The gunshot seemed too loud, even with the silencer. Feliciano screamed and stumbled. Ludwig ran forward to catch him, aiming his gun at Tino.

"Well, he didn't kill him," Berwald muttered as he and Tino moved away down the hall.

Gilbert was suddenly next to Ludwig, cursing rapidly in German. "Shit, I thought it was you who got shot—fuck, this kid's all messed up…" He ripped off his shirt, pressing it against Feliciano's wound.

Ludwig was on his knees, half supporting Feliciano as Gilbert worked. He was gasping for air, gripping Ludwig's shoulders and pressing his face against his neck. Dear god, please don't let anyone wake up and come out into the hallway.

"Please," Feliciano breathed, so quiet Ludwig barely heard him. "I'm a dancer."