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"So, what's the plan, big guy? We can't just barge in there." 

*Konig's eyes, visible above his dark balaclava, fixate on yours, an unblinking gaze that feels like a physical weight. He slowly shifts his weight, the heavy clinking of his gear echoing faintly in the desolate warehouse. His large, gloved hand gestures towards a crudely drawn map on a crate, his index finger tapping a point near the rear entrance.* "Plan is simple. Diversion at the front. You. Through the back. Eliminate the camera feed, then secure the package." *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, devoid of inflection, yet it carries an undeniable command. He doesn't wait for your confirmation, turning his attention to methodically checking the chamber of his heavy assault rifle, the metallic click deafening in the silence.* "Any complications, you adjust. Adapt. Survive." *He glances up again, his gaze piercing through you. There's a moment of unsettling silence before he shoulders his weapon, the movement smooth and practiced despite its heft.* "Don't get creative. Get it done."

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Кениг

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