Survival is Crucial

L.A Venice b***h 80's

A large Russian man is sat down, back pointed to the door as he wiped down his Mosin-Nagant rifle before placing it onto the bed he is sat on, scratching his jet black hair with one meaty hand. A knock came from his door, causing him to turn until raising himself from his bed and opening the door. Twins, and a woman wearing baggy clothes. Both twins look almost identical, both with their light brown hair slicked back, only wearing different clothes to have people actually be able to differentiate them from one another.

The woman barged inside, rummaging the closet, "Petrov, do you have the suit?" He looked over to her with a raised eyebrow as the twins came inside as well, throwing themselves onto his bed.

"Он должен быть на верхней полке." Petrov said, pointing to a shelf in the closet she was going through.

"Are the helmets reinforced?"

"Должен уметь выдержать пару выстрелов из дигла." He pointed again, walking over to the closet and pulling out three motorcycle helmets.

"Could you speak English please?'

Petrov clicked his tongue as he threw two pitch-black helmets over to the twins. One of them smiled and asked, "Do they 'ave the text?" Australian, though Petrov didn't like them much, he had to deal with it.

"They have it." Petrov said, pointing to the visor, "Press button on side, text appear."

One of them nodded, impressed as they tried finding the button he was referring to until a click could be heard. The words, "Wake Up The President" scroll across the front of the helmets. "Man! How the hell did you do this s**t?" One of them asked, a massive grin coming across their faces.

"Hard, but I managed."

"Can we even see through these things?" One of them put the helmet on, reeling back in surprise, "Holy s**t! I can see fuckin' perfect through this thing!"

The woman from before immediately undressed as she took a skin-tight suit out from the closet, quickly getting into it before zipping the back up before stopped due to not being flexible enough. Petrov sighed as he helped zip it up fully, reaching the back of her neck so when she put on her helmet, no skin would be shown. She cleared her throat before turning to the twins, "Alright, I'll be off first." She said, putting a helmet with a flame insignia over her head. Just before she left, she turned to Petrov, "I'll be back in a few days, make sure to warm me up something before I arrive."

Petrov nodded as she left, shutting the door behind her with a slam! One of the twins hissed through gritted teeth before turning to the other, "I didn't fuckin' know she was such a fuckin' baddy, ay?" They started laughing hysterically at one another as Petrov just watched with a furrowed brow. "Come on! Petrov! You 'ave to admit, yeah? No need to be a sour cunt, ay?"

"You're both annoying."

One twin laughed, putting the helmet over their head as the other one had already done before looking back up to Petrov, "Yo, matey! What're we doin' 'ere anyway? Thought we were sent to go after that weird blonde guy."

Petrov scratched at his disheveled beard before grabbing his rifle. "We aren't going after that one, not yet."

"Then who?"

"We're in Mexico, yes?"

"Yeah...?"

"That blonde boy isn't in Mexico, he's in Colombia, right now we're here for a small feminine boy."

"What?"

The other brother cut in, "That emo lookin' guy?"

Petrov shrugged, "He looks like woman, forgot name."

"Are you into effeminate boys, mate?"

Petrov shook his head, "Married to Helna. She's perfect."

"I don't know man, I won't judge, I've f****d a few men who looked like women in my days as well."

The other brother reeled back in surprised, "What?"

"It is what it is!"

Petrov sighed, rubbing the bridge of his, "Let's get ready, first, I need you too to check buildings. Make sure no witness."

"You got it!" One got up, pulling the other brother by the arm as they made their way out the door.

Petrov breathed a sigh of relief before going over to another closet, taking out military clothing, and wrapping himself in it. After putting on the military clothing, he pulled out a jacket that was the same color as the houses in the area, throwing it over his shoulders before leaving the apartment they were in, his rifle hidden under his jacket as he made his way around the town, surveying his surroundings. He waltzed into buildings uninvited, yet no one would react to his presence. No, it wasn't like with the Balrog either. He walked in and they clearly noticed him, but just didn't go to react in any way, just letting him go about the inside of their homes like it was his own.

After scavenging for a good vantage point for an hour, he found a good place to lay himself down upon, hanging above the streets below that he had just walked on not even a few minutes ago. He laid himself down on the roof of the building he was on, perfectly keeping both the road and the apartment complex he was living in - in view. His head above his rifle as he surveyed the area multiple times before leaning back into the iron sights, looking through it with one eye, repeating this motion multiple times.

An hour earlier, the two brothers were making their way to a house before stopping midway, "Why are we eliminating witnesses when, like, they won't say s**t anyway?" He asked, looking over to his brother, using one arm to stop them both from walking.

The other brother took a deep breath before quickly exhaling, looking over to all of the buildings around them, "Somethin' to do with mercy?" He looked back over to his brother, "Well, he said somethin' like that, but then somethin' on the lines of, 'If someone I command kills someone, or does something that could remotely be related to a crime in some way or fashion, it could lead back to me, and I don't want any tacks left to me...' uhh.... somethin' about him not wantin' to be tracked or whatever."

"What the f**k are you on about?"

"Gah! Whatever, I'm not good at rememberin' this shit."

"Yeah, let's just do our job."