A certain author might ask that the reader takes into consideration the title of his work.

In this case, business was definitely involved. But it wasn't just.

If one were to have a map of New York city, divided by the territories of the gangs who inhabited it, they might see the blood red mark of the mysterious group known only as "The Order" to a rare few, expanding at an alarming rate. As with any successful criminal organization, this was due to many things.

Drive, cunning, the willingness to be aggressive... These were crucial. A good business sense was key, too.

The idea of the Order taking over the Marconi territories was a no brainer. The criminal family controlled much of New York's illegal weapon's trade. The Order wanted that slice of the pie. More than that, though... The Marconis and their associates were notorious mutant bashers.

What was mutant bashing?

Well, that was quite obvious, really. A group of humans would hop into a car, drive until they found a visible mutant, and beat them within an inch of their lives.

Actions like this make the whole thing a little more... personal.

Hence, why the plans to take over the Marconi territories were escalated.

And that, my friends, is why Roach was wearing a jolly good bowler hat, and sporting four Thompson machine guns.

He spoke into a Bluetooth headset. "Lenna, my dear, I do believe it's the time I agreed for me to knock on the front door. I would ask permission to proceed, but."

BRRRRATATATATATATATATATA! A door, and the man guarding it, were riddled with bullet holes as the jolly bug, with a cigar in his mandibles, walked on up and started firing

"my finger seems to have slipped. I do hope things are going well on your side~"

It was like a scene out of a movie set in the Prohibition era. Jaunty hat, slick gun, and way too much hot lead. The only thing missing was a human beneath that jaunty hat. Instead, it was a giant cockroach. The man guarding the door had one moment to meditate on that fact before he left this mortal coil, prophetic words 'oh s#@$' hanging on his lips. He didn't fall like an angel. He fell like a ragdoll, and painted the sidewalk a new shade.

"Permission granted," Lenna commented wryly into her headset's microphone, several beats too late, as she stared down the scope of her sniper rifle at the chest of one John Marconi as he sat in his chair puffing a Cuban on the third floor. Someone in the room said something, and his head snapped in the direction of the sound of the gunfire. The blinds slid shut in one quick smooth moment, too fast for her to send a bullet flying through the window glass and cloth to pierce John Marconi's skull. She settled for taking out the guy who'd drawn the shades. Idiot hadn't moved away from them after he'd drawn them, it seemed. The sound he made resembled a falling sack of potatoes, though only Marconi and his men heard it. She couldn't see it, the man falling or Marconi's reaction, but she imagined those faded dollar bill-green eyes narrowing as he rattled out orders, composed as a symphony, walking down the halls flanked by his men.

Her eyes rose from the scope as she watched the building for signs of movement. The plan was simple. Roach would make an assault on the front and catch them flatfooted, or to put it another way, 'turn on the light'. And she would watch as they scurried away into their hiding holes like roaches running for the fridge. When Marconi came out whatever exit he had, she'd take him out. Roach could handle himself in the building.

Outside the building, things were already moving. Another pair of guards had rushed Roach's position, and in the buildings on either side, she saw signs of movement. Marconi had rented out those buildings and occupied them with his men. She would provide cover fire, so they didn't come in the front door while Roach was bumrushing it, and catch him from behind.

"On your left and right. I'll handle right." She said quickly.

Her eyes dropped back to the scope and she lined up a shot. Squeezed the trigger. Bang. The first guy out of the building on Roach's right fell to the wayside. His buddy spat something vitriolic as he kept his pistol close to his body, and aimed up and away. He scanned the area for signs of the shooter. His neck was thick. He was cattle. Meaty as a bull, and just as bright. He didn't move for cover as he stepped over his friend and into the path of a second shot.

Ahh, there she was.

You see, Roach, and Lenna's relationship in the Order's dealings could very much be summed up by what was going on just in these moments:

Roach stormed the front of the building, four automatic weapons blaring like mad, their huge drum clips emptying into anyone in his path. Lenna, on the other hand, carefully picked her targets, picking them off with deadly precision. In short, She was the scalpel, he was the weapon of mass destruction.

She warned him of enemies approaching from either side, he turned to his left and peppered the walls and cover with rounds, destroying both the cover and the men behind it. He was confident in her ability to take out the men coming from the other side. She was good at what she did.

So was he.

"I must say I do prefer working with you at this range... and they say long distance never works out!" He dropped two of his guns, now empty, and reloaded the other two. HE wasn't worried about leaving the arms behind; they were untraceable.

"Were you able to take out the target?" He heard cursing and loud orders barked out from inside. "Oh good, I take it you missed? More fun for me~"

He was in. The bug was careful to stick to heavily windowed rooms; he wasn't foolish enough not to have any form of cover.

The sound of gunfire was ever present, drowned out only by Roach's jolly cackling... Peons were always easy to deal with.

Little did any of them know, something much more dangerous was already watching, waiting for the right time to strike. DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN.

>>"I must say I do prefer working with you at this range... and they say long distance never works out!"

A smirk quirked her mouth sharply to one side as she handled her duty. One by one, men fell in wildly violent ways. One was smart enough to hold back and watch where the shots came from. He barked out orders like someone who wasn't completely stupid, and directed men when and where. Didn't help the men much. She shifted to a new window, and laid down more cover without missing a beat.

>>"Were you able to take out the target?" Roach asked her, then answered his own question a moment later.

"More fun, indeed." She commented as another man fell. Roach slipped into the building, and people stopped trickling out so much. There were more important things to do within. She kept up the vigil, to make sure nobody snuck up behind him, as she plotted their next move. The arrival of police would be inevitable, but she'd set up a distraction. Some Orderlings had made things messy for them, several blocks over. They'd get away unscathed. The Orderlings. Not the police. Everything was running on a timer, especially burning buildings.

She focused down her sights through one open window. Squeezed off a round to save Roach, then reloaded.

Beep-beep! Beep-beep

His Middle aged mutant ninja axolotl's wrist watch chimed merrily, unaware of it's owner's peril.

"five minutes~" He hummed into his headset as he threw a gun at a man's forehead, knocking him out, and then picking him up to use as a bludgeoning device against another shocked bodyguard.

Merry as he might sound, they were running short on time. The NYPD had been stepping up it's game as of late; average response times, even in distress, were not ideal if you were a criminal. It was what it was. Roach put down the broken man in his hands, neatly stacking him on the broken man he'd been beating him with, and patting the pile politely. "It's been charming, but I simply must let you go."

Someone had been approaching from behind all silent-like, but a bullet through the window took care of him. "I give you, my guardian angel!" He chuckled and bowed. That was most of them, all that was left would be the top floor, and their target's personal entourage; That was usually the hardest part, people liked to keep competent people near them.

Roach approached the stairs, tilting his head as he heard several gun shots... the wound of battle.

"Firing through the walls at them? You little devil! I wouldn't have thought you the type to waste ammo!" He spoke again to his companion.

He didn't know the sounds of battle above him had very little to do with a certain sniper... The room above went eerily silent, and Roach slowly walked up the steps... He could already see corpses. "My, you really are a good shot..."

"They certainty know how to make a racket."

Capricorn, his eyes covered by the rounded binoculars that allowed him to see the chaos erupting at the crime lord Marconi's place of business. Oh, he had several of them around the city, so that one could never really know which of them he was currently residing in, a ploy to avoid hits by his rivals or raids by the police. It was a good strategy, all told. One that had kept him atop the Marconi crime syndicate for a long time.

But somewhere, he slipped up. Or maybe the Order's resources were better then most people gave them credit for. They had not only determined which of his various safe houses he would be at, but when to hit him and how to hit him. Watching far afar, Capricorn had to silently admire they're tactics. One inside, a giant cockroach attempting to look like he was from the 1960's, shooting up the place up close and personal. And there was another afar, taking out targets from a rooftop with what could only be a rifle, covering the cockroach's back and making it clear that to leave the house would be a tricky endeavor. All and all, a good setup.

Too bad the General and his network were better. They knew exactly where Marconi was at all times, knowing that a mutant basher like him would be a target for mutant related counter attacks. A man of action against the mutant cause...but the General would enjoy seeing his brains on the sidewalk eventually. The man was slime and although his crews bashed up mutants, they did so for their own personal malice and pleasure. What the General did was business and a needed one for the future of homo sapiens. The men didn't target known threats...they beat up kids who had done nothing yet and through those actions, could become one against humanity in the future.

No, Marconi would die in good time. Once the General had used him for his purposes. Once he'd stolen what men he deemed useful for his own troops and weeded out the useless. But not tonight. Which is why he'd made sure to send a couple of his own agents to "assist" the man, hidden for the moment, but merely waiting to strike. And once Roach had entered the building(yes, they knew exactly who he was and the possibly identity of the sniper), Capricorn had given his partner, Taurus, the word.

The screams over his radio started after that. Smiling, Capricorn lowered his bincoulars and turned his head towards the whereabouts of the sniper. As soon as the shooting had begun, he had sent the few men that had come with him towards the building, already making tracks for the roof. Capricorn had stayed behind, to wait for the right moment. Besides...he could make that distance in a hurry anyway. With a momentarily clench of his muscles, he spoke into the radio. "Operation a go." And then he was off, his ability sending him tracking down the street and up the stairs of the building in moments. Just as the men he'd sent had burst onto the roof and started firing at the sniper hidden up there. He'd wait, of course, until his opportunity and confirmation of the target's identify was given. And then he'd begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taurus, on the other hand, didn't need to wait any longer. And as soon as he had come through the wall amongst the remaining peons that still lived out of Marconi's basic thugs, the screams had started. They knew a mutant when they saw one and were bringing guns to bear, believing hm to be with the oddity below killing everyone in his path. Unfortunately for them, in the close quarters of the building, the hunk of muscle didn't have far to reach to smash them like grapes beneath his boots. his fists slamming bloody wrecks of their bodies into walls.

By the time footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, the screams and gun shots had gone silent. That tended to happen when the owners of such things were nothing more then smears on the wall. True, they were human, but these men had picked on children who had nothing to do with their war, not yet. As far as Taurus was concerned, as even the big man had a soft spot for the younger, they had earned their fate. Besides, they had shot at him. They had been threats. Threats neutralized.

Speaking of threats, a voice coming from the hall turned Taurus's attention that way. The mutant, Roach. He'd been boasting idly amongst his chaotic shooting, so Taurus knew from his voice that this was his target. Just on the other side of the wall.

Which Taurus's fist suddenly burst through, as his hulking mass plowed through on the strength of his fists, at the mutant making his way through on the other side. Wall? What wall? The thought amused Taurus as giant arms descended mere feet away towards the target, their might coming in full force.

Roach had been enjoying his day, which was quite odd, as he normally didn't like it when things went exactly to plan. He was more the type to sew the seeds of chaos. Perhaps it we because a little bit of order was required to do just that. With this, and a few more mob families out of the way, new york would be his playground... Well, Lenna's as well, but she was willing to let him have his fun.

The giant bug stopped at the top of the steps for a moment, surveying the scene silently. His head tilted when he saw a small pair of antennae poking out of a crack in the wall.

"Well, Lenna, I must say you've left me speechless this time. Bravo!"

He would be smiling if he could.
***

When Taurus' cunning sneak attack came through the wall, it came with nearly unmatched force, surprising Roach, and knocking his broken form to the ground, and scattering coats everywhere.

Why did it send coats flying everywhere, you ask? Because in this case, Roach was a well placed coat rack. To be truthful, Roach hadn't been particularly surprised about Taurus' attack; He had bugs in the area, one of the newer augments, Terry, had given him a heads up about the giant mutant who was causing a stir up stairs.

Being curious if this was friend or foe, he'd continued speaking, climbed onto the ceiling, and placed a coat rack he'd found where his little recon agent was pointing out a potential attack.

Taurus didn't disappoint. Roach's one and a half antennae stood on end with the ferocity of the attack; there was nothing left of the poor coat rack. Roach skittered away across the room, turning to view his would-be killer.

"My, my, my... You've really piqued my interest... A mutant, seeking to kill the leader of a pro-mutant organization... You know who I am, I assume. You also knew I would be here... Interesting... Indeed... And for once you have me at a disadvantage."

He dropped from the ceiling, as any more digging into them would tear apart the surface too much to use much longer, and he had a feeling leaving his options open may be a better prerogative.

"I don't know who you are. A rival gang member perhaps? No... This is too well planned out... A hit man... Maybe... Either way, you've got my attention."

He reached into his shell and produced a small pistol. "The police that beat Gina Schuyler got my attention as well... As did the Spengoli family... The big town Russian triad... They are all dead. So tell me... Do you really wish to be the subject of my complete attention?"

He reached out and pulled the trigger.

-click-

Hm... It appeared he'd forgotten to load this one. Right.

Roach turned and fled around the corner. "WHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOP!"