Peralta, just casually stepping inside Angeli della Morte HQ after moments of having a discussion with Keats, who was another respected mafioso who was pretty noticeable on the streets; occasionally do you only catch a polite conversation with somebody in the Streets, where other situations normally resolve your shoulder being tapped and then being decked right in the face which is so suspect for a mugging, something you always see at night. Peralta decided to head one of the common rooms in the HQ which can always most certainly be one of the most crowded, due to his busy business on the streets he has had yet to design his own proper office inside of HQ, shrugging it off once he gave it a while to think about it; he sat on the one of the most very good-looking chairs that was just near a table as he started to tap his fingers along the table, checking his watch as he arranged a time for the job he is supposed to run with the known associate Keats prior to the agreement of said earlier conversation.

Peralta decided to remove a paper from his right pocket, within opening it a list of names ran down the paper, something he received from a client who wanted the job done in exchange for some insanely good payment, mumbling as he decided to read down the list with the names of the paintings he is supposed to recover later tonight.

The Bridge - Made by M. C. Escher.

The Bridge in Curve - Grace Cossington Smith.

Castrovalva - M. C. Escher.

Statesmen of World War I - James Guthrie.

"These paintings better be worth the trouble I'm going through right now, otherwise I'm gonna give that client some strong consequences; sometimes these always end up in a shit-show, unlike the last jobs I can actually get what's required. Better off than sending some new guy over and he ends up getting put in the slammer, anyhow. I wonder when Keats is gonna show up, otherwise I may just have to end up doing this by myself, but I didn't run my trust off so low, yet.."

Peralta casually folded the list and stuffed it into his right pocket, sighing as he casually relaxes his hands on top of the table, the night was running short and there can be so much time, the night is blessed.

Strolling down the stairs of the Angeli della Morte HQ, Keats fixes his tie and begins to approach Peralta. Keats was still in good shape for a man around 40, and he winked at a young woman who was climbing the stairs opposite him, receiving a smile in return. Sliding in a chair next to him, he greets Peralta. 

"Peralta. Sorry I was late- some unavoidable important business. Tell me about this job you set up. Something about art, was it?" 

Watching Keats having come down, sliding in a chair next to him giving him a casual nod.

"No worries Keats. We all are busy people, right? Anyhow, look at this list."

Peralta removes the noted list he was looking at earlier involving the art job, flashing it up to Keats.

The Bridge - Made by M. C. Escher.

The Bridge in Curve - Grace Cossington Smith.

Castrovalva - M. C. Escher.

Statesmen of World War I - James Guthrie.

"Hear this, yeah? One of my clients and or associates for that matter said he was gonna pay me good if we get him these four paintings and they are still available, we don't really have a lot of time. They move the paintings out so they can replace them in like two days so we gotta move while we still have the timetable on track. Here's the plan, they only have two security guards guarding the joint at night which is pretty dumbfounded if you ask me. One patrols the outside, checks the windows and the alleyways that surround the store and it takes him a while to make the full loop so while we can make entry through one of the vents that's on the roof it'll go better for us so we can avoid him, we just gotta take a couple stairs. The last guard patrols the inside, checks around each room that has the paintings hanged up and even checks up on the office of the guy who owns the place to make sure nobody is sneaking around, he might be a problem for us because there's something extra we could gain in the guy's office so if you're up for it we'll take some extra time and head for the office once we're done. I hope you're armed because there may be a /SLIGHT/ chance we need to use them but they won't be able to pull an alarm but if we can just knock them out, non-lethal wise and dump them somewhere after a while? We'll be clear. I already got a driver setup, his name's Giovanni and he's a good kid; we talked a bit and such and I'm sure you'll like him, kid's got quite of a jumpy mouth though so try not to let it get to you."

"Once we get everything, get it to the associate that's paying for the paintings, undamaged too. We get a good pay, you'd be surprised with the amount of people paying for art nowadays, guy says he'll give two million just for the paintings themselves and we'll split the money between just you and me both, sounds like a good deal right? Let me know if you're ready to go because we are burning the night sky." 

Keats listens intently to Peralta, nodding slowly.

"Only two guards. Seems a bit odd for paintings this valuable. Do they think no one knows where the paintings are? Or typical move of trying to cut corners and save a buck by hiring guards they didn't think they'd need? Sounds like you've got a guy on the inside here- hope he's trustworthy."

Keats leans back, furrowing his brow slightly and looking at Peralta. He tries to appear businesslike. 

"I hope you don't mistake me as soft when I say that I hope to avoid killing either of these guards. I've done it before, and I don't doubt I'll have to do it again. But not only do deaths draw more attention to the crime, but a part of me does respect the fact that these guys are just poor mooks trying to feed their families."

Leaning forward, he continues.

"And do you what's in the office or are we trying to find out? Something worth the risk? A safe? And if we pull two million from the job and we get split that down the middle, how does your driver get paid enough to keep his mouth shut?

He leans back in his chair, giving Peralta a small smile.

"Sounds like a good move, Peralta, and I'm definitely up for it tonight. I've just found that asking these questions early can keep small issues from becoming big ones." 

"Only two guards. Seems a bit odd for paintings this valuable. Do they think no one knows where the paintings are? Or typical move of trying to cut corners and save a buck by hiring guards they didn't think they'd need? Sounds like you've got a guy on the inside here- hope he's trustworthy."

"Corner-cutters. They think nobody really cares about the art that's why they have the low protection detail but god know what's gonna come to them."

 "And do you what's in the office or are we trying to find out? Something worth the risk? A safe? And if we pull two million from the job and we get split that down the middle, how does your driver get paid enough to keep his mouth shut?

"Keats, let's just say we'll pay him to a point where he'll be able to feed himself and get somewhere in life. I have someone who can keep tabs on him just in case, if we have to end up getting rid of him I'll let you know, trust me. I cover all my tracks and even where it bears fruit; I think I got a tip-off there some files in the office that was given to the manager by the FBN, might expose a secret or two."

Peralta said willingly, he knows there wasn't gonna be such a big deal; with the plan all set out, nothing could go wrong; he gave Keats a well-assuring smile before raising up from the chair and patting him on the shoulder, as he starts to head for the doors of Angeli della Morte HQ; the night sky wallows, and when it does it means it's time to make a move, he begun to walk down towards an alleyway that wasn't from the HQ and was on the other side of the street. Upon arrival, he saw Giovanni which was the job's designated driver; giving him a nod in the darkness before hopping in the passenger seat.

"Just make sure to do your job, kid. And nothing will go wrong." 

Following Peralta outside, Keats reflexively checked that his pistol was in its holder under his left shoulder. Can't be too careful. Peralta slid into the passenger seat, so Keats walked around the back and sat behind the driver. Keats heard the driver shift his position in his seat uncomfortably, which was understandable. Having someone sit behind you when you're driving could often lead to a bullet in the back of a head. Or, more likely, a wire around your throat. Not this time, though, as Keats leaned his head back. It'd be good to make sure the driver was on his toes. From here, he could also talk more conveniently with Peralta, who was starting to talk to the driver and direct him. And if the driver didn't get a good look at Keats? That was just the bonus. 

Glancing toward the passenger seat, Keats noticed Peralta instructing the driver as the car lurched into motion and smoothed out its progress. Keats didn't know the driver at all, but Peralta had impressed him. A well rounded, talented man. There was some potential there; Peralta had earned his attention. But there were lots of skilled young men trying to make their way in the world; Keats had been one of them, decades ago, before he'd carved out a comfortable life in Chicago. For a moment, the faces of the dead flashed in front of Keats- but he chased them into the shadows, as he focused on the task at hand. The driver was talking. How had Peralta described him? A jumpy mouth?

Keats settled back on the seat and listened.

Peralta took a deep breath then exhaled, his worries for the job soon to happen were escalating but he didn't show it off to the others, even if he did the reaction they may spark wouldn't be very approving, Peralta was just directing the designated driver around in which spot to park up at near the art gallery which was guarded by corner-cut guards, not even aware of their senses from the look in their eyes. He motioned to move into the one of the alleyways where there were windows on the side of the windows, telling Giovanni eventually to stop. His amateur instructing skills actually paid off for once, though along the whole ride the driver seemed to have a big mouth; as if he was worried about something hence the rapid motion while he talks.

Peralta slowly stepped out of the car, closing the door as quietly as he could; giving a motion to Keats as he began to move over to the back of the car and popped open the trunk and to reveal inside? A bunch of equipment, gloves, wrap and some boxes for the paintings relevant size; there should be enough space for two in the trunk and two in the backseat if needed, he began to lower himself down to pick up a pair of gloves and smack them on, looking around and inspecting his surroundings meanwhile to make sure nobody was walking close by.

"Gloves. Should be good for us Keats, just so we don't damage the paintings and no prints are found, hopefully I'm right about that last part; kid seems a bit hyped up on something but it shouldn't be so bothering but we should just keep an eye on him just to make sure, he'll keep the act up for the rest of the job that is, which will be good for us. Like I said, the vents up on the roof of this place? There's stairway access just at the end of the alleyway, let's get a move on."

 Peralta mumbled all that in a quiet voice, he dug his right hand into his jackets to make sure his gun was present, just incase something needed to be done about the security that guard the place but if there was a no-choice option, it's what would be taken so they don't get caught. But the FBN are easy payoffs, just to make sure you keep up to date with the "contracts" you arrange with them; meanwhile Peralta was headed over to the stairway access he mentioned as he began to slowly open the door and head up the stairs.

Keats followed Peralta out of the car, glancing back at the driver from the corner of his eye as he proceeded around to the trunk. He followed suit, slipping some gloves on and flexing his fingers to ensure they felt as natural as possible. As Peralta spoke Keats scanned the building in front of them, looking for the stair access. Peralta moved toward it and Keats followed. 

They moved quietly and deliberately, trying not to attract any attention. Once there was a small noise and they both froze, but after a few moments of silence they continued up the stairs. As they reached the roof the moon shone bright above them, but some clouds moved across the sky and dimmed the lights. Keats followed Peralta as he moved toward one of the vents. 

As Peralta started to prepare their way in, Keats walked softly over to the edge of the roof and peered over, remaining hidden. The getaway car was still there, at least, and there didn't seem to be any other movement. As the quiet footfalls of the outside guard came into earshot, Keats silently drifted back to Peralta, warning him to cease any movement with the vents. After a few minutes, when the footsteps of the outside guard had faded away, the two men finished preparing the entrance. With a raised eyebrow, Keats gestured to the vent and whispered.

"After you."

Seeing Keat's fellow gesture to reaching the end of the vent, Peralta began to unlatch the vent that blocked access to the room below where they would begin to sneak around and snatch the paintings that were required, putting it behind down further in the vent as he begun to slide down and jump down straight into the art gallery lobby. The paintings were right behind the lobby as there was a corridor leading up to it, as he began to put a finger on his mouth as a signal to be completely silent over to Keats.

Peralta motioned with his right hand, heading into the corridor as he started to check his corners and on the ceilings to make sure to avoid anything out of the ordinary; heading into the big room that had all the paintings hung up, it was time to collect what was required on the list, only four paintings and only little time, heading over to the walls with paintings hung as he quickly started to read the author's name and moving left and right.

"Keats.. Help me get the others.. Just stay silent, okay?"

Peralta mumbled as quiet as possible.

Keats followed close behind Peralta as they entered the room with the paintings. Keats quickly looked them over. Not his style, really. He was more of an Italian Renaissance man, himself. He thought briefly of Via Parile, but chased her from his mind as he focused on the job at hand. There was at least one guard patrolling inside, and Keats didn't want to alert him. He lifted one of the Eschers- the bridge one- and placed it silently on the floor leaning against the wall. He could hear Peralta quietly doing the same across the room. When all the paintings were lined up against the wall, Keats glanced at Peralta. These paintings didn't seem like they'd fit out through the vent. And would they go check the office now and come back for them later? Or try to carry the paintings with him? Keats coolly turned to Peralta, trusting that the younger man had planned their next move. 

Peralta having found all the paintings lined up the wall, getting the last one into place and figuring out they definitely won't fit the vent on the way out, knowing this is where the alerting part comes with this, luckily it was all easily planned; how could it be ruined when we're already so far in? sneaking all the way in was the good part, this is the part where it gets energizing, he went down the hallway which lead down to reception or the lobby for that matter, seeing the guard was just idly standing like he was about to fall asleep, he shrugged and went back over to Keats, motioning over to the office that was in the farther end of the corridor out of the painting hall.

"Now, we can check that office. Still keep silence."

Peralta said as he started to go down near the office with Keats, watching around the area as he soon approached the door, he removed a bobby bin as he kept his gun holstered and his gloves smacked on, beginning to work his lockpicking expertise on the door considering it's locked state; one point in time he was thinking that the manager would be stupid enough to trust the guards with his information but fortunately that didn't even happen. Soon making entry through the door and heading into the office, he began to head over to the desk and begin searching the drawers; as his hunch proved correct. He started to withdraw stacks of cash from within the desk, planting them on top of the desk and plastering a grin onto his face as he eyed Keats.

"Hey, guess I was right this entire time."

 Keats followed Peralta to the office and watched, impressed, as Peralta picked the lock and made his way inside. The cash was a nice bonus- one that Dexter would certainly appreciate. Keats grabbed a nondescript bag from the corner of the office and helped Peralta pack the money inside. Keats was finishing loading the money when he heard a noise from the hall. The guard, evidently, had awoken from his stupor; his footsteps were now audible and growing larger. Peralta was closest to the door and didn't need any sign from Keats to realize the situation and the guard's imminent arrival. Keats crouched behind the desk chair as Peralta took up a position immediately inside the door. 

It appeared as a normal days business in Detroit. He was merely here to move some product and pay his tribute to the Godfather and Mayor. Nothing out of the ordinary until a small child ran up to GreenBean while he was on the corner looking for a quick sale. He bent over and allowed the child to whisper in his ear then gave the child a bill and guided him on his way.

"Shit! I need to do something about this! Think..THINK!"

L.A. was planning a job for some time now, rumor was they were going for some art. That child has some bad news, word on the street in Detroit was that there was a Detroit crew looking to do the same. They didn't know when but GreenBean knew where. The only reasonable place and the only reasonable pieces. The word was out, there was a bounty on a few pieces and it was first come first serve. 

GreenBean was over his head and out of options. He didn't have time to contact the L.A. family and he didn't want to lose out on the score. He had to act fast. Luckily his cousin used to work for a security company, one that just happens to supply guards to all kinds of places in Detroit. After he lined a few pockets he was standing guard every night for the next week. 

It was his first night on the site, he hadn't slept in days, and everything seemed quite. 

"They have to come by this office. I'll just close my eyes for a second and wait"

Click...pop...creek...

Every door is open...rainbows and lollypops...He shakes out of his dream. Was that the sound of a door? 

"I better go check it out. I don't want to miss out on this score!"

The guard, his slumber was idly enough time for the office to be raided, as Peralta heard the footsteps getting closer and louder with each step; beginning to hide near the door as he removes his Colt 1911, it was too risky to leave tracks so killing would have been out of the question at this point, he looked at Keats and then back to the open door as he waited for the guard to get closer. Peralta raised his right arm as he was ready to hit the guard the moment his head creeped through the door, success was always a willing factor for this art gallery hit.

"Come on.. closer."

As he walks towards the door he notices that it is open now...It wasn't open before. 

He whispers towards the room, "I'm coming in. Its not who you think it is"

GreenBean takes his gun out, emptying all of the bullets onto the floor. He then slides the gun through the door before entering.

"I'm not armed and that is my proof, don't shoot"

He slowly walks through the door with his hands raised slightly, just enough to ensure he is of no harm and low enough to keep his dignity. He can deny what he was doing later if he has to. 

"I heard what was happening, you guys really need to be careful about who you let around the HQ. We only let Tiny Toothless Tony go get our lunches. On account he doesn't have a tongue and doesn't know how to write. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone anything even if he wanted to..."

He continues on about the L.A. HQ and comparisons of how they do business. Clearly taking pride in his city but talking more than the situation can allow. He continues on anyway...

Peralta, with a wide gaze, he looked at GreenBean with confusion; mentioning something about a HQ. As unfortunate the circumstances are, he knew who to trust and who to not trust, right now it could turn into a setup and it wasn't something he was willing to risk in the case of mission failure, Peralta shook his head at GreenBean as he kept his gun raised near the man's temple.

"Sorry. But I can't trust you, not at this point and time."

Peralta raised the gun, immediately striking the man in the temple with the handle of his Colt 1911, as he looked over to where Keats was hiding and walked over, giving a slight tap on the desk to signal an all-clear.

Keats raised an eyebrow.

"Well that was unexpected."

He narrowed his eyes, thinking and glancing around the room.

"Take this cash out to the car. If this guy is the inside guard you've only got one to worry about outside now. Leave the cash in the car and bring Giovanni in here. The two of you can carry the paintings out. I'm taking this guy with me; I have a few questions for him when he wakes up."

Kneeling down, Keats prepares to pick up the unknown man and start taking him to the car.

"Alright."

Peralta let Keats worry about the unconscious guard for now, leaving it for him to hit the outside so he can signal Giovanni the driver to come inside and assist with the paintings, he started to make a quick jog for the entrance door as he looked around; seeing the guard was out of sight for now was in his own favor. Peralta walked over to the alleyway where Giovanni was sat at, he gave him a short wave as a signal to follow, seeing him get out of the vehicle.

"Giovanni. I need you to help me carry these paintings out, come on."

Giovanni nodded as he followed Peralta back inside the art gallery, quickly. They both begun to start the packaging of the paintings as they carried them out to the car, they tried hard to make space for each but even with last luck they all fit in the boxes and are ready for transport, making sure to grab the cash that was in the office; he took the bag and ran out, Peralta finally got inside the car with Giovanni before anybody noticed.

Keats dropped to one knee and grunted as he pulled the unconscious man to a sitting position. Goddamn. This used to be easier. He should have had Peralta carry this guy while he took the paintings... but no, Keats figured he had some work to do, one way or another, with whoever had intruded on this job. Hopefully it would be too much trouble. Keats stood, slowly, carrying the unconscious man across his shoulders. If that other guard showed up there would be trouble- there was no way he'd get to his gun quickly. Walking slowly, trying not to stagger and drop this guy on his head, Keats made his way out toward the car, where he dumped him into the back seat.

Giovanni and Peralta were waiting in the driver and passenger seat. Keats confirmed the paintings- and the cash- were in the trunk before pointing to the road ahead, signaling to Peralta that it was time to get back to the HQ. As the car started moving, Keats spoke to Peralta.

"Not home yet... but nice work, Peralta. And Giovanni, there'll be a bonus for you if you get us back fast and without any trouble."

Peralta watched Keats drop the security guard in the back seat, nodding at Keats giving him a fat smile as a friendly approach.

"Couldn't have done this without you Keats, and you Gio. And he's right, get us through fast back to HQ without catching the attention of any late night FBN and you'll get a fat bonus."

"Of course, boss and boss! Fast to HQ! Got it!"

Giovanni started to put his hands on the steering wheel as he started up the engine, beginning to drive off from the alleyway as the tire screech of the car echoed through the streets, leaving the art gallery behind in nothing but smoke from the car; Giovanni began to drive around the corner quickly but trying not to be suspicious as he began to drive off towards Angeli della Morte HQ.