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One of the gunners dropped to a knee; the one that had been firing. The chaingun swung upwards quickly, covering the side of the building with a spray, going from the center of the first floor, diagonally across one of the windows on the second, and towards the far corner of the roof (not sure if the building is 3 stories or more). The driver of the jeep revved the engine again, pulling out from the curb and screeching off quickly down the street further as the gunner clutched a hand to the side of his neck, where a bullet had torn through his shoulder, narrowly missing the neck, itself.

The other swung the weapon upwards, towards where the sniper shot came from, which is the only thing that saved him from the second sniper; the bullet impacting the wall behind him. Though he was completely oblivious of this fact, he couldn't hear the gunshot because all sound was drowned out with the mechanical rattle of the mounted chaingun spraying the window where the first sniper had shot from.

In either case, the large calibur bullets from the chaingun would make short work of the decaying brick walls of the Yellow District, and tear through whatever else they might hit on their way into the ceiling of the next room.

As for the soldiers creeping up on the building from below, the front two were caught in the flames from the maltovs; though quickly dropped back into the ally to pat them out as the next group moved forewards to take their place. Shooting through the flames, they opened fire with their assault rifles onto the men standing in front of the building.

A squeal of rubber on slick pavement, as the silver bike came to a swerving halt. A few people were startled, one woman nearly squealing as the bike nearly bowled her over. The resulting wind that blew out lifted her skirt, showing a bit of white lace.

"I like, I like." One foot touching the ground, the other kicking the stand into place, the lithe figure got up off his "silver bullet", tapping the side of his helmet with a single finger. "You wanna go out again tonight, Celeste?"

"I told you, I'm not riding on that.....thing." The woman pushed her skirt back down, and frowned at the rider, who promptly began taking the helmet off.

"Ouch, so harsh, so harsh." Grinning, light blonde tips fell into place, while a hand smoothed back loose hairs. "Anyway, I've got work. I'll give you a call later tonight, yo."

"Sure you will." Celeste turned away and began walking away, waving her hand out. "Like you always say you will, cowboy."

St. Andrew stood for a moment, before turning and briskly walking towards the front doors, tossing his helmet to guard there. "Park her up front, yo."

Stepping in through the revolving doors, or were they automatic, and began loosening his tie. The damn thing always felt like it was choking the life out of him, and he really wasn't comfortable in a suit.... even if it was "Ergonomically designed for battle". I mean...who the hell fought someone will wearing Armani?

Passing through the required security checkpoints, he made his way onto the elevator, and began the ride up to the top floors, where hopefully the rest of the team was already waiting.

"Let's get us some action, yo." Smiling, as he leaned back...it wouldn't be long now, as a soft ding would echo out, bringing him to the proper floor.

The doors slid open, and the first sight caught was that of several ashy blonde locks of hair.

"Everyone already here, yo?"

Dazzling blue eyes, caught sight of both women, along with that wide, lopsided grin. His suit was lazily undone, shirt hanging loosely, and his jacket left open, yet amazingly it didn't look sloppy at all. It just seemed.... to fit.

Rosalind shook her head in affectionate exasperation or at least as close to it as she got anyways. "You look like...yourself...as always, Sir" Giving a small salute before turning around and walking towards the doors of the main office. "Rafe's still not here is he?" Making it a question, though everyone would know perfectly well, she knew exactly who was here and who wasn't.

=======

Sayaka on the other hand took in St. Andrew's appearance and smiled broadly. "You've just got to let me on that bike of yours sometime. I bet it's a dream to handle." It was all she said, before it was all business for her as well. There was familiarity and then there was an appearance before the bossman himself.

"Easy, easy, guys. Be cool, just be cool." St. Andrew began making himself look slightly more presentable, but still refused to wear the tie. Giving a look towards Rafe, he twirled his hand at the wrist a bit in his direction as he walked.

"I have no clue what the boss wants, but no doubt it's gotta be something big, eh?" Walking forward, he stretched out both arms, letting his suit jacket fit more comfortably along his shoulders. He stopped in front of Sayaka and made a small turn.

"Look good enough, eh?" Shooting a glance over to Rosalind, he gave her a small wink and ran a hand through his hair once more.

"Alright, let's get the show on road, yo." He walked forward, and gave the doors in front of him a shove.

The gunner continued firing until the end; his gun still blaring bulletholes into the side of the buildling that he had opened fire on even as his body limped lifeless against the weapon for a moment, then slid off to the side. The driver of the jeep saw this, and jumped out of the vehicle, himself, to take cover behind it; away from the sniper's range of fire, judging by the bloodspray from the first soldier's wound.

The man with the loudspeaker, however, held it up and began barking orders, almost incoherantly to the soldiers as a group; waving his hand wildly and pointing to various parts of the structure... at which point the large armored tank beside him raised its turret higher and swiveled it straight at where the second sniper bullet had come from.

"FIRE!" he screamed into the loud speaker, which horribly distorted his voice to sound like a crackling explosion in itself. A moment later the tank slid back half an inch as the turret fired, causing the entire vehicle to recoil from it and scratch deep lines into the pavement with its steel treads. The shell impacted the side of the buildling, tearing through the wall, the ceiling, and anything else that got in its way.

As soon as the driver of the second jeep saw this, he jumped up onto the back of it and resumed operation of the mounted chaingun; this time directed at the ground troops that were firing upon the second jeep...

...the second jeep which didn't fare quite as well. The bullet tore through the rear right wheel, causing it to skid out of control, veer to the side, and crash headlong into the side of a buildling halfway down the street; knocking over a street sign in the process and prompting the screams of the family that lived in the building that had just lost a wall in the process.

Two soldiers cried out; consumed in flames as the next round of maltov cocktails ignited the inferno even larger. The flamable liquid spread onto their fatigues, and within seconds the two men were so wrapped in flame that not a single feature of their own could be discerned through the blaze. They screamed and ran about, falling into the street and rolling around in a frenzy, but to no avail. In another moment the one on the left suddenly burst, followed by the one on the right; the heat having ignited the fragmentation grenades carried on each of their persons, which caused hot shrapnel to go flying in every direction at once.

One of the soldiers near the front of the line took a piece in his leg and slumped against the wall as the other soldiers continued firing, half of them this time adjusting their fire towards the windows above whenever one of the men would stick a part of himself out. The rest continued firing upon those in front of the building, intending to clear the way so that they could advance into the buildling.

The replacement gunner on the second jeep, though, was far less lucky. A piece of shrapnel from the grenades burried itself into his left shoulder, and another into his stomach near the right hip. Almost instantly he fell backwards into the street, writhing on the ground as he bled both externally and internally.

((Hey now...Vinnie has been around like for 6 or so years...long before Joshua knew about one piece, I would think. Give him a break.))

Rosalind stood behind St. Andrew, the faint flush back in her cheeks but other then that, the perfect soldier, standing at attention and watching everything going on around her as she prepared to absorb the information. Her hands behind her waist, each hand holding the other forearm as she simply waited and observed.

======

There would be a small whoop of happiness from Sayaka that was quickly stifled as Rosalind turned and gave her 'the look o'doom' that every female knows but that Rosalind could execute without a second thought. She quieted but the energy was all but rolling off Sayaka. Finally... a mission. IF she could have been bouncing without appearing unprofessional, she would have been.