-Two days late. As i've been fairly busy with school, figured y'all would enjoy.
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Las Vegas. It’d been a while since Rhys had been. Then again she’d been too busy avoiding the human government and some of her fellow Decepticons to even think about coming sooner.
But hearing that Megatron was being kept in a vault in the Sector 7 headquarters, concealed in the Hoover Dam in Henderson, Rhys felt it would’ve been wrong to pass through and not stop in her hometown. Despite Wraith’s initial protestations, Rhys stayed firm in her decision. Besides, she didn’t have any other responsibilities. No hits, no favors, no attachments. No nothing. Just how she liked it. Then again she couldn’t afford any attachments. Those were fancy bargaining chips, to use Wraith’s words. Speaking of which, the big Decepticon wasn’t far off. Under the disguise of the black Rolls Royce, he blended in perfectly with the rest of the Las Vegas traffic.
Now bathed in the neon lights, Rhys felt better. The tension ebbed from her shoulders ever so slightly. Still, she continued until she reached the grand front entrance of the Bellagio. The assassin wasn’t one for gambling, even if she knew a couple of the games, having watched some of her targets before finally pulling the trigger. Rhys cared even less for slot machines, though she had to admit they were entertaining for a little while. She glanced at the sprawling roof, the beautiful glass ceiling, and the six hanging lights before she slipped inside, trailing a small group of women in bright, sparkling dresses. Presumably a girls' trip, perhaps a bachelorette party. Listening to their excited and slightly jumbled conversations offered little evidence to support either. Watching the women go, Rhys slid up to the front desk with all the confidence in the world. Dressed in a nice dark blue top with a pair of black pants to match, she certainly looked the part. She’d even snatched a cheap curling iron from a convenience store and curled her hair.
The young man behind the counter, dressed in a black suit with a little bronze name tag to boot, glanced up when Rhys approached. “May I help you… miss?” He prompted. “Bailey Reyes, I believe I made a reservation earlier today?” Rhys smoothly replied, offering the man, James, her best smile. She leaned against the counter ever so casually, all while maintaining her smile. Watching as James turned his attention to the tablet on his side of the counter. James was silent for a moment later before he retrieved a room key and finally spoke, “Here go! I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Ms. Reyes.” “I will, thank you,” Rhys replied before she took the key and pushed herself up off the counter, heading down the grand hallway. She had to admit, she always appreciated the details of wherever she went. In this case, the sprawling hallways, the beautiful glass flower installation along the ceiling, and the colorful flower garden display in the Bellagio’s conservatory. Truth be told she’d thought about coming for a little while, and who would she be to not snag a room at one of Las Vegas’s most famous hotels and casinos? And one of the penthouse suites at that?
Making the reservation had been too easy. Situated comfortably in Wraith’s backseat, a cold Monster in hand. Paid for by a card under her current fake name, Bailey Reyes. She had a small list; whenever she needed to ditch one, she moved on to another.
Rhys made her way to the elevator, though not before she stopped and watched as an old man sat down on one of the plush leather chairs in the nearby bar. Nursing what looked like a glass of Scotch. Or whiskey. Rhys wasn’t one for drinks, mainly because she didn’t want to slip up and let her guard down. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself and Wraith wouldn’t be able to reach her without making a scene. That was a risk she couldn’t afford to take. Although she had to admit, watching an older woman take a bright green cocktail from a bartender piqued her curiosity. What the hell was in that? On second thought, she didn’t want to know. Whatever green syrup or alcohol probably had effects that lingered long after the drink was finished. Rhys dismissed the thought, pressing the button for the elevator. Watching as the little circle was filled with a soft, warm light. She looked up when the doors opened, the sharp ding snapping her out of her thoughts. The assassin stepped inside, sparing a glance at the other people in the elevator. A mother and daughter duo, blissfully unaware of the trained killer beside them. A mountain lion among sheep, Rhys thought with a silent snort, before offering them a small, polite smile.
Rhys’s expression softened when the daughter smiled back. She looked about seventeen, maybe eighteen, with soft brown eyes and tanned skin. The look of innocence heavy in her eyes. The assassin quickly fixed her expression as the elevator ride continued. Once again, the little ding of the opening doors snapped her out of her thoughts. Rhys stepped out of the elevator, not even bothering to spare the mother daughter duo one last glance. She looked up when a man stepped around the corner, his brown eyes and wide smile recognizable from a mile away. Sebastian Arison. Once a Decepticon liaison who’d cut ties once he realized he was way in over his head. Having made the initial deal when the Decepticons discovered his position, having access to some of the most powerful military-grade weapons. This would be too easy.
It didn’t take Rhys that long to get into the floor’s staff room, nor did it take her that long to snag a uniform off the rack and get dressed. Room service. That was certainly a new one. Any of her previous hits involving hotels, she’d either climbed up the downstairs balcony and hid in the shadows or plain and simply let herself in. Whether with a copy of the target’s key or with a simple lockpick, she didn’t discriminate.
Rhys knocked once and drew a breath, “Room service!” She had a habit of committing to the bit, perhaps a little too well sometimes. But she didn’t care, so long as it got the job done.
Sebastian answered almost immediately, clad in a white robe with the casino’s initial stitched in gold on the chest. Rhys wheeled the cart in, maintaining the smile up until the moment Sebastian shut the door. She dropped the smile and shoved the cart, hard, knocking him off balance. He hit the ground with a grunt before he backpedaled, fear flashing heavy in his eyes. The ex-liaison raised his head, and the assassin couldn’t help but relish in the sweet, sweet realization on his face. “You!” Sebastian exclaimed after a moment, having finally found his words. Rhys cocked her head, “The one and only. But really, did you think you could hide?” She drew her foot back and kicked Sebastian hard, enjoying the wheeze she pulled from him. “Did you think you could cut ties with the Decepticon cause and disappear? Just like that?” The assassin didn’t even try to wipe the smirk off her face, although she was momentarily distracted by the sound of voices down the hall. Some couple on their fucking honeymoon.
Rhys barely had any time to react before Sebastian swept her feet out from under her and she hit the ground with a thump. She shot to her feet and lunged, slamming into him with speed. He slid backward, his back slamming into the dresser with a loud bang. The assassin snarled as the two of them bounced off the dresser, hit the side of the bed and fell back down with another thump. The room phone rang and she fumbled to reach it, bringing it down on Sebastian’s head hard. The dull whack echoed throughout the suite, the same time Rhys wrapped her legs around Sebastian’s neck and pulled him to her. Sebastian swatted at Rhys although to no avail, like a fly fighting to get out of a spider’s web. She tightened her hold, enjoying the strained groans and wheezes she was pulling from him. Her hazel brown eyes gleamed with amusement, she was enjoying toying with the man too much. Making him think he had a chance at fighting back, at living to see the next day, made the whole thing so much sweeter.
A knock echoed at the door and Rhys froze, “Is everything okay in there?” Presumably a passing cleaner. Maybe a concerned neighbor. Rhys swore under her breath and glared at Sebastian, loosening her hold just enough. “Answer-,” She hissed through gritted teeth, and much to her surprise, he did. “Everything’s fine!” Rhys prepared herself for whoever it was to question Sebastian’s slightly strained response, and yet they didn’t. She turned back to him and her smirk returned in full, “Adorable. And here I was thinking of letting you live-.”
Before Sebastian could reply, Rhys twisted, listening to the dull crack as it echoed throughout the room.
Rhys shot to her feet and paused to stretch, her smirk ever present as she looked at Sebastian. The once powerful military man lay dead on his hotel floor, his eyes wide in one final expression of pure disbelief. She’d known the assignment would come eventually, Wraith didn’t tolerate loose ends. And something told her Megatron wouldn’t either. But running into her target while on a little trip? If that wasn’t a two-birds-one-stone situation. Rhys gave a soft sound of amusement at the thought before she turned back to the corpse on the floor of her new room. Right. Not exactly something to leave lying around, especially with house-keeping. Rhys sighed, dragging the man into the spacious closet. It wasn’t ideal, but it’d do for the time being. It was easy enough to make it look like he’d had one too many to drink, and slipped and fell on the bathroom floor later.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, spying Sebastian’s discarded wallet on the bed. She swiped it in one fluid movement and smirked. The assassin had a bit of an age old habit of helping herself to her target’s things. After all they were dead, why would they need them? The sight of Sebastian’s hotel card made her smirk grow. So he’d been a frequent enough guest to get a card. A quick check with Wraith quickly confirmed the card had enough points to go around, and another quick check with Wraith confirmed the man’s various credit cards were the same.
Although Rhys wasn’t stupid, she knew better than to use the stolen cards immediately. After a few days, Rhys made her move. First small purchases, making it look like She and Sebastian were staying around the hotel. She bought in at the slot machines a few times before she ordered room service. A couple of cans of Monster served up in one of the gold ice buckets meant for champagne. Rhys wasn’t one for card games, although she quickly learned the appeal. Blackjack, for one. There was something about the thrill of the game that the assassin couldn’t resist.
Nor could Rhys resist ordering a chauffeur in one of the casino’s Rolls Royces. Ironically a Phantom, although she caught glimpses of Wraith throughout the heavy Las Vegas traffic. The dark Decepticon like a shark, lurking just below the surface. Ready to go at a moment’s notice. “And what brings you here, Ms. Reyes?” The chauffeur spoke, a man with dark skin and greying hair. “Oh,” Rhys said simply, cracking the tab to the Ultra Paradise with ease, “I just needed a little break from work is all.” Rhys tilted her head, a well-practised smile curling across her lips, “don’t we all?” “Amen to that,” the chauffeur chimed in with a little chuckle.
Rhys let out a soft sound, hearing her phone buzzing in her pocket. She huffed, taking a long, measured sip of her Monster. There was only one guess as to who that could be. And considering the assassin was in a particularly good mood, she wasn’t up to ruining it. She let her phone ring, though not before stealing a glance at the call screen. Confirming her suspicions, seeing Dylan’s name. Rhys kicked back and grinned, that would be a later problem. As for now, she was too busy enjoying the drive around the Las Vegas strip.
The trip to SpeedVegas was just what Rhys needed. Being able to hop behind the wheel of a Ferrari and floor it around the track without so much as a worry in the world. Her heart hammering in her chest, her lips twitching with a grin, like that of a kid’s on Christmas Day. The flashy 458 Italia was sweet, although the time went by too quickly. She was left wanting more. And with a glance at Sebastian’s card, an idea popped into her head. Rhys didn’t even try to stifle the grin as it spread across her face, and her dark brown eyes lit up. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket and hopped onto the rental car site, scrolling through the options with haste.
While the Ferrari 458 had been sweet, Rhys knew of something sweeter. And there it was. The brand-new Bugatti Veyron, decorated with a beautiful combination of black and blue paint. A quick text to the renter got the deal going, and a response with the delivery time all but sealed the deal.
Rhys took the keys from the delivery driver, having watched as he unloaded it from the massive delivery truck. Some form of Mac truck, with a covered, climate-controlled cab for the more expensive deliveries. She swung herself down into the driver’s seat and slid the key into the ignition. The roar of the V16 engine firing to life had her grin growing. Oh, this was going to be fun.
It didn’t take long to get the Bugatti going. A simple push of the gas pedal was more than enough to have the hypercar roaring along. All but racing down the long stretch of road, surrounded by desert on either side. Rhys grinned, bringing her foot down on the gas pedal and loving the way the hypercar responded. If she had to guess, she was close to pushing the thing to its limits. Passing the few other cars at speed before she finally brought the Bugatti back to the Bellagio. She had a couple of hours before she had to bring it back to the pickup spot. So why not enjoy it?
However that fun quickly came to a halt when Rhys heard the shriek of tires in the Bellagio’s front drive. She turned, only to see two massive black trucks, similar to the Humvees the military used. Only these were black, carbon black, with yellow letters sprawling across the side. Three god damn letters. FBI.
Who the fuck recognized her?
Rhys turned to run, the same time the agents all but came bursting into the lobby. All of them were armed, sporting fully automatics. Colt Patterson Carbines, by the look of them. Rhys had an arms dealer who had a love for them. She never understood, then again she always preferred the short range weapons. There was something about that personal edge they gave that pulled her in like a moth to a flame.
“FREEZE!” One of the agents shouted, his voice carrying across the lobby. Rhys bolted down the hallway and turned into the second lobby, stopping in her tracks. The agents were hard on her heels, surrounding her. Guns raised and ready to fire, the second she gave them a reason to. She scowled, she had her Glock. Never went anywhere without it, although even she knew she’d be dead before she had a chance to grab it. “Gentlemen,” Rhys began smoothly, “surely you’ve got the wrong woman.” Rhys let out a soft sound of amusement, “surely you get your fair share of suspicious characters here in Vegas? The city of sin?” She tried. “That’s enough!” Barked another agent, his thumb twitching dangerously close to the trigger. Great. She was getting to them.
“Put your hands where we can see ‘em!” Instructed the first, the same time the barking of a dog echoed in the main lobby. Of course, they’ve rolled out a fucking K9 unit. In a way, Rhys almost felt flattered. Usually, attack dogs were reserved for the worst of the worst. And in came the meanest-looking Dutch Shepherd. Snarling, snapping, straining at its leash with all its’ might. Fuck. “C’mon. Put ‘em up!” Barked another, the same time a low growl resonated throughout the sprawling lobby. Metallic in nature, like someone had taken a lion’s growl and distorted it. Almost. Followed quickly by the thrumming of heavy paws on the fancy hardwood floor.
A thunderous roar echoed, and at the same time a silver blur whipped by Rhys’s head. Nitor, in all of his glory. His luxurious mane, composed of several thin metal strands, shining under the casino’s bright lighting.
Nitor slammed into one of the agents, easily taking the man down. Nitor’s powerful jaws locked around his neck and a brutal crack echoed. He turned his attention on another one of the agents, the same time a loud “What the fuck is that?!” echoed. “I don’t care! Shoot it!” Another agent ordered. Bullets bounced off of Nitor’s side like they were nothing. Nitor reeled back, his tail whipping. The end produced several razor sharp shards that all went flying towards the agents with a simple flick. Some fell, others took cover. Nitor glanced back at Rhys, his red eyes almost thoughtful. He would hold them off, as long as it took, in order for her to escape. Although backup quickly arrived and Nitor snarled, whipping around and sending the attack dog sprawling with one big paw. Rhys turned and ran, bullets screaming past only a couple of inches from her head. She slid around the corner and almost fell when Laser Beak shot past her, unfurling his wings as he joined Nitor in the fray. The assassin’s lip twitched with the start of a snarl, She didn’t need help. Not on a simple mission like this, and yet that pain in the ass had sent his winged rat to back her up. He was in for it alright, the second she got back.
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