Big Mike's not waiting very long. The supervisor on sight is none other than the chief himself, and as soon as he'd heard Big Mike's report, he'd been on his way out the door. On his way he grabs his light brown suede jacket, slipping into it. Under the leather shell is a layer of the same armor fabric that they'd shown to Alain a few days ago, and he calls to the other two men lounging in the lobby, both dressed in full-body suits of a slightly heavier version of the same. "Dwight, Pete, let's go."
Both men are on their feet in a flash - there's not a lot to do around here at night, aside from chasing away the odd graffiti artist or an errant wanderer from the grounds, so it's easy to become bored. Leo makes a point of running drills, but they know their chief - if it's a drill he'll say so, and he's not the kind of guy to put them to task by surprise.
It takes them all of a minute to get over to the entrance where Big Mike waits, none of them even out of breath by the time they get there. Leo speaks quietly now. "Sitrep."
Big Mike, for once, doesn't speak in his usual, slow droning manner. "Got an occasional flicker of light, boss. Quiet other than that."
Leo nods, looking over his shoulder and jerking his head towards the door. Like silent shadows the other two move towards the door, covering it, and Leo pulls his own comm device from his pocket, tapping it once and speaking into it quietly. "Diana, I need access to the Fabrication facility employee entrance."
There's a soft click from the door by way of response, and Leo slips the device into his pocket. Pulling his Desert Eagle from its holster and shouldering the now-unlocked door open, he slips inside, the other three right behind him.
The building inside is large, cavernous in fact, with various kinds of equipment that looms up and around them like strange monoliths in the darkness. His eyes make out the flicker of light near one of the machines - a wire drawer, if he remembers the layout right - and he motions to the other three to split up. they move off into the darkness as he moves forward, towards the flickering light, moving from shadow to shadow silently, his dark eyes picking out the subtle flashes ahead.
It's a gift he's never really acknowledged to himself, a sort of secondary sensory input he's always been aware of and used but never really thought of as anything special. Now, though, since being in Rhy'din and seeing some of the things other people here are capable of, he's found himself wondering.
As he closes on the light source, he halts in the shadow of a huge machine press, focusing his attention on the scene a few meters away.
Three of them, two keeping lookout, while a third works with something - a welding unit of some kind" - at the wire drawer, intent on his work, his hands and movements swift and skilled and efficient. The other two aren't as alert as they should be - no weapons in their hands, simply looking around without being expectant. He can sense the other three of his security team now, a rough semicircle that will effectively cut the trio off from going any direction but to the back of the facility, where there is only a single exit.
He brings the Desert Eagle up and ready, pointing towards a flickering silhouette in the darkness where he'd sensed one of the pair standing lookout, and speaks in a loud, clear voice. "You are trespassing on private property. Cease your-"
Whatever else, the lookouts and their skilled friend are good. There's a clatter and the light goes out a split second before he hears the distinctive sound of a hammer being thumbed back, followed in the same instant by a thunderous report and a muzzle flash.
The round smacks into his jacket, impacting the armor beneath, where its force is deflected and the bullet stopped. Even with the inertia-negating properties of the armor, though, it feels to him like he just got hit with a fastball thrown by Nolan Ryan.
It's just enough to knock off his point of aim, not enough to knock him down, but he drops to a knee fast enough to make a shock of pain travel up his thigh as other muzzle flashes appear. Aiming for one of them, he pulls the trigger of the Desert Eagle. The muzzle flash is nearly blinding in this darkness, but he pulls two more times as the other members of his team follow suit.
Sparks fly as the bullets impact heavy machinery, but at the same time the gunfire from that area stops. Yelling out over the echoes of gunfire, he calls out to the others to cease firing, cautiously moving forward towards the area.
Keeping the gun in front of him and ignoring the throb from his shoulder - whoever shot him must have had a cannon for a pistol - he rounds the machine, eyes searching the area, side to side, up then down.
he finds it empty save for the welding torch, a short knife of Oriental design, a few casings, and a trail of blood leading towards the back of the factory; not a smear to indicate a heavy wound, but whoever got hit is going to want a doctor in short order. He's about to send Dwight and Pete off to follow it when he hears the fire exit alarm blaring out its insistent dual-tone siren, and he shakes his head, turning to examine whatever it was they were doing.
The machine's maintenance panel has been pulled open, and something was being done in there, but damned if he knows what. Motioning to Dwight, he straightens. "Call Perry down here, tell him we had a break-in and it looks like someone might have been trying to sabotage the machinery. We'll need an inspection of every piece of equipment in the place - these bastards had an hour after everything was closed down, they may have done more damage around here."
——-
An hour later he's at Ed's house, making his report to the boss on the break-in as they stand at the bar on the first floor with a glass of whiskey each. Between them lies the wakazashi he'd found by the machine.
"Well, Leo, s'much fer yer idea. Shame...could've been a good source of intel."
Leo nods, shrugging. "You never know. I'm pretty sure no one was killed, though I don't have any way of confirming that. But still, it ought to send a message to these guys."
Ed nods again, yawning. "Yeah. Still t'ink we might wanna try usin' em fer an intel source, den?"
with another nod, Leo grins. "In my former line of work you have to know a bit about criminals...we get so many in Vegas. In my experience, if there's such a thing as an honorable criminal, the Japanese version comes closest."
With another nod, Ed drains his glass and sets it down, turning away from the bar to head for his room, speaking over his shoulder as he goes. "'Kay. O'course, now Ah'm not gonna pay 'em nearly s'well as Ah would've."
Leo grins, picking up his newest souvenir and turning for the door to head back to work. Along his way, he hears Ed call to him from just out of sight about telling Perry to have his report on his desk tomorrow.
"You got it, Ed," he shouts back as he's leaving.