Editing Getting the Band Together (section)

===Biker's Barbeque===
[[File:Biker1.jpg|300px]][[File:Biker2.jpg|300px]]

Sitting on a roof top with their backs to a wall, Wrecker and Reggy contemplate their options. 

Wrecker is a stocky, husky, man with broad shoulders covered in tattoos.  He wears a short neatly trimmed Mohawk in red, green, purple and white. He has a camouflage jacket over his lap, and camouflage pants, having gone through an army surplus store he picked patterns from different countries. Sitting on a Belgian rucksack and smoking a small cigar and exhaling a multicolored smoke. 

Beside him Reggy snores softly, wearing a Denver Broncos sports jacket, blue jeans with his head on a Belgian rucksack.  He seems fairly relaxed. Snoring his relaxation.

Wrecker crawls over and slips up to look down over the roof edge at the ground with a rifle scope.

Reggy mumbles, “How many?  Is he there?”

Wrecker says, “About 7 in cuts.  Couple girls.  They are barbecuing.”

Reggy, "Ya, I can smell it.  I'm fraking hungry.  "  He rolls over and falls deeper asleep. 

Time passes as Reggy sleeps and Wrecker checks the the ground. 

Wrecker looks over a computer tablet , checking many details.  He mumbles.

“Murder, murder, murder, armed robbery, vandalism, vandalism, rape, rape, rape, assault,  assault, assault, assault, assault,  drug running, gun running. Theft, cleared, cleared, cleared. Pay offs, pay offs. Twelve targets.  No female targets.  Black Carl.. the president of the MC.  Dale Genkin, Vice Pres.  “

As dusk starts Wrecker looks over the edge of the roof.  He lays back and kicks Reggy to wake him.

“Black Carl and Genkin just arrived.  Take a look.”

Reggy crawls over and looks down.  He nods.  “I see them.  Say when.”

Wrecker says, “30 seconds.”

Reggy and Wrecker both pull up M4 rifles, rack rounds, checks the clip, pulls two extra clips out for each of them.  

They turn around and kneel by the roof's edge.  Putting the four clips between them.

Wrecker says, “I don't see Smiley.  Maybe he's inside.  So lets both hit Dale and Black Carl then you get everyone to your right.  I'll get everyone to my left.”  Reggy nods, "Head are yours, Chests are mine."

“One, Two, three," Wrecker whispers

On three the two swing up and and aim their rifles, taking targets.

The firing lasts 15 seconds, then there is screaming down below and the woman flee the back yard, running and jumping in two cars and fleeing quickly.  

Wrecker surveys the damage.  He and Reggy pull up their bags and slings their weapons over their shoulders.  They leap off the roof and land on the ground.  Walking through the backyard they take Low Order pictures of the dead. Then they go through pockets collecting money and wallets and pocket lint.  They pile weapons in a duffel bag. 

Dale moans in pain and Wrecker looks into his dying face, "Should have made a deal, Dale.  Such wasted potential."  He draws his Glock and issues the coup de gras. 

Going into the house they walk through seeking others.

Reggy stands by the door, "All the listed targets except Smiley were outside.  Didn't see that ''Prospect'' either.  Hey Wrecker, you realize we're psychopaths?"

Wrecker nods, "Its crossed my mind.  I became convinced on the streets of Ahyk.   Lets see whats inside."  He raises his hand and a small glowing symbol rises in front of it.  He moves the glowing symbol around the room. “Something....Move the couch.”  

Reggy pulls the couch, pushing it over on its back with ease.

Wrecker kneels down, running his hand along the floor.  Stopping, he punches the floor hard, pushing his hand through.  He pulls hard pulling up a large secret door.  Looking down into the hole the first thing they see are two girl who crouch in fear.  Beside them are bags of packed powder.  A large collection of guns.  Grocer bags of cash held together with rubber bands.

Reggy raises a symbol similar to Wrecker's.  He casts a sleep spell and the two girls go to sleep.

Wrecker removes a cell phone and calls. “Wrecker.  Targets neutralized Except Smiley Russel.  Two captives asleep.  Weapons in a hole.  Drugs.  Send in the Cleaners.” 
Reggy pulls out several bags of the pressed powder, the bags of cash, and couple fancy pistols and stashes them in the duffel bag, smiling at Wrecker.

“That was rough out there.  Mostly rough on them, of course.  So...Pizza?” Reggy says.

A few minutes later a van shows up at the Motorcycle's  Club's house.

The black van screeches to a halt outside the motorcycle clubhouse, its headlights cutting through the fading twilight. The Cleaners step out—a team of five, clad in nondescript dark clothing, each carrying specialized gear. Among them, a tall woman named Iris takes charge, her presence commanding as she assesses the scene.

Inside the house, Wrecker’s phone pings with a message: “Operation secure. Proceed to drop point.” He nods to Reggy as he raids the biker’s half-stocked fridge. “Let’s move,” Wrecker says.

The Cleaners begin their work. They catalog the weapons, retrieve the drugs, and carefully extract the unconscious captives. Iris pauses to look at the crude bunker beneath the floor. “They knew what they were hiding,” she mutters to one of her team members, who nods and bags up a stash of ledgers.  "Any trouble outside? " 

Wrecker shakes his head.  "a few building code violations..." 

Walking away from the scene, Wrecker with a duffel bag over his shoulder.  Reggy stops and grabs steaks and sausages from the BBQ, tossing them in his gun bag.

Wrecker and Reggy cut through a side alley. The city’s glow contrasts with the grimness of their mission. Reggy chews on a cold slice of leftover pizza he found at the clubhouse. “So,” he says between bites, “how long we gotta stay under the radar now?”

Wrecker smirks. “Not long. Couple days.  Iris's Cleaners know what to do. Black Carl and his crew were overdue for a reckoning. The streets are better off without them.”

Reggy grunts. “Still. It’s a slippery slope. We’re not the law.”

“No,” Wrecker says, pausing. He exhales multicolored smoke from his cigar. “But sometimes, we’re all that stands between order and chaos.” 

Back at their safe house, Wart's Station, a dingy flop in the industrial district, Wrecker checks their spoils. Among the wallets and cash, he finds a photo of a young girl tucked into Black Carl’s wallet. Frowning, he sets it aside. “Even monsters have something to lose,” he mutters.
Reggy looks over. “You getting soft, or just tired?”

“Neither,” Wrecker says. He locks the photo in a drawer. “This fight isn’t clean. It’s never clean. Gadget really picked a messy place to come.  Crap load of thugs.  Crime rate higher then the cops can manage.  Cops on the criminal's payrolls. ” 

They turn their attention to the drugs they retrieved. Wrecker pulls out a small vial from one of the bags and examines it under a desk lamp. “This is good stuff.  High quality.  Got a good connection.  This stuff hasn't been cut yet.”  Reggy pulls out sausages and steaks, setting them on top of an empty pizza box as he listens to his partner. 

Reggy leans over, looking and the cut open bundle. “Ya.  Good.”  He scoops out a cup full with a coffee cup, casts Clean ''cantrip'' on the table, pours out a pile of powder and starts cutting lines.

  
 
This passage may benefit from careful revision to align with tone and clarity, while also refining the balance between evocative imagery and the emotional context of the scene. Below is a revised version: