The target opened the door and poked his head out into the night. He looked first one way up the partially lit street, and then the other. When he was certain it was clear, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out into the crisp night.

He tugged his jacket tighter around him to shield himself from the freezing desert air.

Naked arms reached out from inside the darkened street-side apartment followed by a bathrobe enclosed buxom blonde who pulled him back into the doorway. He spun around smiling and they kissed deeply. She groped him roughly under his jacket as they kissed. Something he seemed to be enjoying a little too much.

"Ugh," Joe Parsons grumbled as he watched the whole sordid affair from his car parked at the end of the block under the only streetlamp not doing its part to brighten the street.

His thin cropped hair, along with the tattoo on his upper right arm, betrayed his training in the Special Forces.

So did the steely gaze he gave the amorous couple he watched through the government issue, and sold to Joe after being logged as destroyed, military spec night-vision binoculars. It was the same steely gaze he gave everything. It was almost like he couldn't even look at a slice of cellophane wrapped American Cheese without fully determining its capabilities as an implement of torture--or death.

The target extricated himself from the blonde and pulled up his collar in a futile gesture against the chilled midnight air.

One last final kiss and he headed off down the street away from Joe's car.

Joe lowered the binoculars. "Wake up, it's show time."

Katherine 'Kat' Wolfe sat up in the back seat. Her sandy-brown hair was pulled tight into a braided ponytail. She grabbed the massive Titanium Gold finished Desert Eagle Mark XIX off the seat next to her and shoved it into her shoulder holster before zipping back up her cracked leather bomber jacket. While currently configured to shoot .44 Magnum rounds, it was mainly for show. I mean really, who runs around shooting with a gold plated pistol?

But then again, this was Vegas after all.

But Kat never really considered herself much of a Vegas girl. Her real weapon of choice was the SIG P210 that sat nestled comfortably into a form fitted holster in the small of her back. A pistol that had the distinction of being the most accurate and most expensive military pistol ever made. Kat had Joe to thank for helping her get her hands on this unique piece of weaponry.

And at a discount.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Time to earn our pay."