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All it had taken for Rebel to coerce Team Bravo to leave the scene of the crash was a nod. He had every good faith that Risk and Gunner could handle the tails on their own -- though most of his faith lay in Risk specifically.

Bravo didn't ask questions. They just ducked through the nearest alley way and continued on toward Gray's beach house. It took the trio less than ten minutes to arrive, and when they did so, they slowed.

"So what do we do, just go knock on the door?" Sergeant asked with a tinge of sarcasm. "Something tells me Gray won't be taking kindly to any visitors right now."

"Back door," was Rebel's only answer. 

Neither Sergeant nor Legion argued with him. Not when he strode straight toward the fence; not when he gracefully scaled over it. Instead the duo followed after him, for where Rebel had laid all his confidence in Risk's abilities, they found it easy to trust him and his. 

After all, they weren't called Team Alpha for nothing.

Rebel crept along in the sandy grass in silence, one of his handguns resting in his palm as he did so. He watched each of the windows he passed with veiled suspicion; each of them was covered, either with blinds or curtains, and there was no way to see in. That didn't surprise him -- this was Gray they were about to drop in on -- but it did annoy him. Mostly because he didn't like the idea of accidentally getting shot

Not that it would be the first time that had happened.

He slipped around the corner of the large beach house (beach mansion seemed more appropriate), spying the back door quickly. There was no hesitation or uncertainty as he crossed to it, his every step self-assured, even as he straightened before the door. 

Rebel didn't bother knocking. He reached his free hand out, gun still aimed warily, and tested the doorknob. 

He was surprised when it gave way and the door slid open, mostly because he hadn't needed to use his super strength. 

That surprise all faded to razor sharp awareness when he heard the heavy thud of boots against tile. His mind immediately processed through the fact that the footsteps did not match up with what he recalled of Gray's walking, and so his gun went up and he stepped into the mansion in one fluid motion. His green eyes cut across the room, what appeared to be a large kitchen, and immediately he found himself face to face with a tall woman, dark hair slicked back into a tight pony tail, a large shot gun resting in her hands.

Her hazel eyes were wide as she watched him, though there was a vicious look about her face, and Rebel found his lips pulling into a devious smile the moment they made eye contact. "So Gray hired hitmen, huh?" he asked, his voice betraying just how unimpressed he was.

He could feel Legion and Sergeant moving into the mansion behind him. Sergeant chuckled as he came to the same conclusion Rebel had seconds earlier.

The woman looked between the three of them with growing apprehension. "What makes you think I didn't come here to kill Gray?"

Rebel scoffed at that, lowering his weapon before tucking it into its holster, speaking as he did so. "You would've shot at us by now, and as a result of that, you'd be dead. Given you're still alive and standing . . ."

Legion snickered at that, shaking his head as he stepped further into the room, his weapons having never departed from their holsters. "You don't want to screw around with us, lady," he said, though there was no malice in his tone. Legion prided himself in being a gentleman like that. 

She finally lowered her gun then, when Rebel strode past her without a second look. She watched the young man move for a long second, her hazel eyes still narrowed as he passed by her dismissively, before she turned her look of annoyance back to Legion and Sergeant. They, too, were headed further into the house. "If you're the former agents Gray spoke of, I must say, I'm disappointed."

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