In New Orleans, twenty stories above the dark streets, lies the main conference room for the Grand Hotel. Marty was currently having a meeting with his associates.

My friends, I have to appreciate what you are all doing, this operation of ours is helping us rake in even more money, that means that the guys up top are happy...

Marty continued to discuss earnings and congratulate his peers. He was at the side of the room, opposite the window, when he instantly grew speechless, for the sight he saw had made his heart sink. He saw the window washing platform coming down, and three men in window washing uniforms, but when their torso's appeared, he was speechless... In each of their hands there was a 1928 Thompson sub-machine gun. Every one of his associates stared at him.

We're fucked.

Everyone exchanged confused glances... That's when all hell broke loose. Each man started firing and the row of guards and peers nearest to the windows were instantly killed, then they had to reload, one of the men's guns had jammed, and a guard rushed him, tackled him, and they both flew into the abyss of the streets below. The other two men finished reloading, but by that time, a conference table was flipped up and most people had fled. Only Marty and some others had stayed. Marty popped up from cover and shot one guard so there was only one left on the scaffold. He looked towards the doorway, and heard alot of gunshots, so without a doubt there would be more assassins.

Ok, we have to finish the last guy, then go help the others.

He slid the clip out of his pistol to find it empty. So he signaled for the others to kill the last guy.

OOC: completely OPEN RP, I think that the improvisation and the activity is funner and more exciting. But PLEASE do not try to maliciously ruin the thread.

In New Orleans, twenty stories above the dark streets...

Something is not right. It's too calm. The air in here...tastes like gunpowder. Marty just hired me as security for this meeting, and already I'm regretting it. The men at the table are talking, but I'm not listening; I'm waiting. I'm standing against the back wall of the conference room, gripping the thompson in my hand with sweaty hands.

"My friends, I have to appreciate what you are all doing.."

Something is not right. The silhouettes of the guards outside dissappeared in a rumble.

"...this operation of ours is helping us rake in even more money, that means that the guys up top are happy..."

Oh shit. The window. Why would there ever be cleaners at this hour? Think, Enzyte! You dumbass!

"Jesus christ, everyone down!" It's the right thing to yell at this point.

But it's too late. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM! Bullets and blood everywhere. I hit the ground, instinctually, but then rise to my feet, pumping lead from my machine gun.

BLAM BLAM BLAM!

Gun shots outside. Almost everyone dead. Marty himself hiding. He pops out, fires a slug, drops a guy, but there's still one left. Marty tries to signal me to kill, but I pop out my clip...

Empty.

"FUCK!"

I run towards Marty, dodging the bullets the assassin is firing, and slide next to him, my back to the window. 

"I think my extra clip fell out! It's not on my person anywhere! What the fuck are we gonna do?"

Gun shots continue outside. I'm looking at Marty like Where the FUCK was our other security for this?

Marty hears enzyte, then frantically looks around. He finds what he's looking for and picks it up... a .45 caliber round. He slid it into his clip and loaded his gun...

Okay, only one chance at this....

He held his breath, stood up and turned.

BANG

Marty exhaled, and saw what had happened... He had missed, the man felt himself for holes, in disbelief, and Marty took cover again.

Shit, I fucked our only chance to hell... We need some kind of savior... Shit.

A small, rugged-looking man was walking through the bustling business district of New Orleans. Recently arrive from Germany, He had already met up with his contact and was looking to find some poor person to extort, After following a young business man to a hotel, he was stopped be the door man. "Vat do you mean I cant com in!" The small German shouted, after a few minutes of pointless aggression he realises he has no idea where the business man has gone. demotivated by his failure to get anywhere, he turns around and starts to walk on his way.

*Thud*

He turns around to see Two men had landed on the doorman (what are the odds :D). He looks upwards to see another man falling to the ground. Whether it was through curiosity or stupidity, he decided to see what was happening. He picked up the Tommy gun that was in the hand of one of the suited deceased and checked his body for a wallet. "$300, nice." thought the german. He entered the now vacant hotel and began his accent upwards.

"How the FUCK do you miss that?"

I'm here for a reason. Without making eye contact with marty I pull out a knife--my only knife. In a gun battle this is essentially useless...unless you can't find your extra clip.

"I got one chance. I need you to run to the right. You do that, distract him, I stand and whip this bad boy between the eyes. Think you can do that?"

Jesus I hope he can do that.

Marty stares at the guard with wide eyes.

ARE YOU FUCKING INSA...

Then he remembered that he was wearing his bulletproof vest.

Ok, I'll do it.

He stood up, and sprinted towards the other table. The man was reloading, and the sudden movements made him hesitate and drop his clip.

I have a chance. Marty is running. That crazy fuck. I stand up and me and the man make eye contact. He looks surprised as I seem unarmed. He continues to look surprised when a knife flies out of my hand into his forehead.

"ARGGHHHH!"

I can hear him fall, but not land. I don't know how the knife didn't kill him. Marty is now breathing heavily--shouldn't smoke!--and I try to collect a gun off the ground. In a room full of dead gangsters, there are plenty.

Throughout all of this, our men outside the door are dead. The assassins are trying to get in, banging on the door.

"Jesus christ. Marty, why are these guys here? What the fuck did you bring me into?!

6 floors of steps later.

The sounds of gunshots ringing in my ears is getting louder and louder with each step taken. Several people have ran past him, screaming ladies occasionally cover the sound of the bullets leavingthe barrels of guns.  A partially nude couple were in the process of putting some of their cloths back on as they tumbled down the stairs.

5 floors of steps later.

The sweat had began to pour from his forehead. "dis had bettar be vorth it" he thought (in english, apparently.)

7 floors later...

By now he was drenched in sweat, the small German stopped for a second to catch his breath. "my god,I need to get into shape." he noticed that one of the rooms in the corridor opposite had its door open. A quick invasion of the mini-bar later and he was ready to go.

2 floors later.

as he approached the 20th floor a tingling sensation exploded inside him. one man was standing guard outside the corridor. 6ft3in, looked like a well groomed bulldog, one bullet to the head was all that was required to put him to rest. he walked down the corridor, turned the corner and was met by about seven men in suits trying to break down a door. The German opened fire.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

Blood splattered against the door from the outside. Enzyte looked confused...who the hell is that shooting?

"Marty, I thought all our guys were in here!"

He looks just as confused. I see a pistol on the ground, the closest weapon, and grab it, getting behind cover and peering over, aiming my gun for the door. I hope this dude is on our side, whoever he may be...

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

None of them saw it coming. even after all of them were dead, he still emptied bullets into them. Something about it made him feel euthorphic. He approched the door full of confidence, that didn't last long. the second he put his hand on the handle, a though struck him. "vhat if dere iz more gunmen behind dis door?". For once, he decided he needed to be senseable for once.

"Halo?"

I glance at Marty. Is that a...german accent? Is there a foreign specialist here? What the fuck is going on.

"We're armed! Do not come in unless you come in empty handed, mother fucker! If we see a gun in your hand, we will shoot!"

This guy just blew away who knows how many hitmen, judging by the blood on the door--a lot. My hands are shaking as I keep my pistol pointed to the door. I motion for Marty to come out of cover with his gun too.

"I repeat, you open that door with a gun in your hand, you don't make it inside! Now, who the fuck are you?!"

Shit. We're gonna die.

SINGER jumps through a window and looks around everyone had their guns pointing out to the doors. He silently pointed his at the door as well. Everyone was silent as the door crept opened. SINGER didnt feel the need to say hi to everyone as he entered the place but he did feel the need to protect one of his favorite wiseguys in Marty.

"WAIT! Don't open that door!" 

I swing around and point my pistol at this new guy. What the FUCK is going on here? Does someone want me to die of a heart attack in a gun fight? 

"I SAID CLOSE THAT DAMN DOOR! Now, who the hell are you? And why aren't you trying to kill us?!"

My gun is aimed at his head. One false move, BLAM! This guy, though...he's not one of the assassins.

"Speak quick, or I will shoot! This is no time to jump through a window, pal! The last three who tried that are now checking in downstairs, and they took the express elevator if you know what I mean."

I can hear more gunshots outside. More hitmen. Someone here is supposed to die, but it's not my intention to let that happen. We're all gonna fucking die. God damn it.

"Der is no need for Dat." Said the german man, frantically searching the bodies for an easily concealable weapon. "If I vanted to kill you, it vould have already been done." "that vill make me sound hard" thought the german, His adrenaline rush had all but vanashed as the reality of what he had done had dawned upon him. He had killed 8 people for the sheer sake of curiosity! And now he had god knows how many other people behind the door who want him dead.

Now, who the fuck are you?!"

"Call me, Wildwasser (white water in german :D)" This was the nickname he was given in germany during the world war. "Now, I vill open the door on 3."

Whitewater opens the door and gets a gun pointed at his head

"Seems we got ourselves a predicament here. Anyone wanna talk? I got a bad finger-clenching reflex, happens if I'm just standing here aiming this gun too long, know what I'm saying?"

I've barely stepped into the criminal world and I'm surrounded by professionals. 

"Vell, you could start by taking dat gun away from my head. I only came up here to zee vat I could rob. MidPoint never told me that it would be dis exciting!" White water looks into Enzyte's eyes and saw that he looked as scared as he was feeling. "Come on, I don't think keeping dat gun at my head iz the smartest thin now is it?"

Ah shit. He's got a point Or maybe he's trying to trick? Is that sweat coming down my brow? Don't think about that, focus.

"Uh-uh, motherfucker. We talk quick here, especially with guns in our hand. Only way this is dropping is once I know you guys aren't...well...THEM. A little too convenient you're here on a robbery, eh?"

SINGER sits down at the table after pouring himself a glass of water. He looks at the chess board that sat across from him and took the pawn and placed it to e4. Setting his drink down he watched as the nervous men seemed so worried about the oncomming fight. He placed his gun back in his holster and uncuffed his shirt.

You know what i think? I think we should all sit down and just relax for just a moment. Just breathe in and breathe out it usually helps me when im stressed.

The men all stared at SINGER as if he was a moron. He knew he wasnt a moron but the others started to think he was and he didnt mind keeping it that way. With his left hand fiddling with the beads on his rosary he smiled at marty.

Well if im right this is your gig. So whats the plan my dear sir?