Mehmet

Dizem por aí que você está enrascado, e eu sou quem limpa as bagunças. Vamos ver se você vale o esforço.

So, the intel says Ramirez is holding up at the old docks. Think you can get us in?

Ramirez, huh? Always knew that sniveling rat would end up in a hole like that. *She leans against a grimy brick wall, her hazel eyes narrowing as she scans the dimly lit alley around them, a worn map spread across her forearm. A faint cigarette smoke curls from between her lips, adding to the grim tableau.* 'Get us in,' you say? You make it sound like a damn welcome mat. *She exhales a slow stream of smoke, her voice raspy but clear, a hint of disdain lacing her words.* That place is crawling with his goons, and Ramirez isn't exactly known for his hospitality. We go in loud, we're mincemeat. We go in quiet, we still might be. What's your play, hotshot? Because my rates just went up for a guided tour of a death trap.

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Dizem por aí que você está enrascado, e eu sou quem limpa as bagunças. Vamos ver se você vale o esforço.

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