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[BIGBROSEC] Henry's Bar, 5/5/7X
| Woah, Jesus christ, those are some big guns; that guy's shield; to take that much gunfire it must have been a really good one, heavy too... this ain't your average PMC riflemen and auggies, this is the REAL deal chummers.
-KY
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| The question is, why shoot up the bloody bar? What have they done that prompts this kind of reaction.
-Sabre
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| >The Neon District- aside from its multitude of bars (many of which sprang up after leaving the Temple District due to one disaster too many), there is little to separate this section of the city from the rest, save for a favorite watering hole or three.
>The variety of pubs, on the other hand, offer a convenient and obscure way for creatures of the night to talk business and commiserate- anonymous, but not alone. Accepted, where elsewhere they'd be outcast.
>From the view of the BIGBRO branded security camera, a cheaper end model that was once popular some fifty years ago, Henry's bar is as nuanced as its name- all that can be seen is a dusty, ill used street corner filled with blown out shops, waiting for cleanup before they could be resold to the next cash-strapped chummer. Two vintage halogen lamps light up the entrance to the bar as well as the constant flow of patrons in and out- many gimmicky, sporting loud facial tattoos, bright, exotic hair colorations, and even a holo projection mask, whose "face" swivels between different emojis.
>A man in an ill fitting short sleeve polo shirt steps outside and leans against the wall just to the side of the door, slouching against it as he digs through his pockets for something. He nods at some new comers as a janky, overly customized van rolls up and drops off the latest batch of punk-likes; a young man with a particularly bright pink mohawk pops into the passenger area, and both van and mohawk vanish just as quickly as they came.
>The polo-shirted man discovers the cig he'd been looking for- it was hiding in his chest pocket- he lights up, and looks up at the camera and viewer, giving a cocky grin as puffs and waves at Big Bro...
>When offscreen, another van arrives, this one more "minty fresh" than the last. It parks on the street corner, but not before it hits a fire hydrant with enough force to crack said hydrant out of the ground. A bit of water rushes out, creating a puddle where it once sat.
>Though the camera didn't record any sound, you can see the polo shirted man nearly drop his cigarette from the excitement. He puts a hand on his hip and points animatedly at not just the van, but others piling out the back of the vehicle- all black, heads covered in balaclavas while their chests are covered with flak vests. Across at least one of said vests, the letters "K.E." can be made out, sprayed onto the armor with yellow paint that, in spite of the camera's age, can be made out to be dripping further down the man's armor.
>The polo suited man continues to talk animatedly at the group, who by this point have all piled out and number around five individuals. They look at each other and seem to ignore the polo suit man, until the sixth exits the vehicle, carrying a large, heavy, black shield. They push through the other five and immediately smash the polo suit with such force that he flies back toward the bar, slightly shaking the camera in the process. The polo suited man barely has time to raise a hand in resistance when the shield carrying person unholsters a Fichetti 500 and shoots the polo suited man twice in the face.
>He motions to the others, who also draw weapons and make their way to the door to Henry's Bar, hugging the wall in a standard breaching position. One of the assailants physically kicks the dead man's body out of the way, stepping on him in the process of trying to hug the wall. The shield man punches the door open with the same force that he used on the dead man...
>Only to flinch as an eruption of gunfire rips through the doorway, the majority deflecting off the shield but some strays clearly hitting the others who are standing too close to the door. The man behind the shield clearly grabs his side but keeps his gun up with the other, as the breach continues, shield man pushing forward and the others following suit.
>What follows is around fifteen minutes of flashes and the occasional stray bullet flying out of the doorway. A heavily customized Pontiac Firebird Trans Am with a strange, red "eye" on the front rolls up to the bar, but as the "eye" faces toward the doorway, the vehicle speeds off and out of sight the camera.
>Moments later... four of the balaclava wearing combatants leave the doorway, pulling behind them two of their own. The shielded man from before has attached his shield, by this time heavily damaged, onto his back and now carries two large garbage bags on either shoulder. A blocky keyboard sticks out of one of the bags and nearly falls out as they pile into the same van, jarring pieces onto the ground.
>Seconds later, the outside of Henry's Bar is peaceful yet again.