The car's souped up engine roars as you converse, the rural outskirts soon being replaced with the cracked concrete of downtown. Graffiti and gang tags all but cover the urban sprawl. But even amid the nigh omnipresent signs of urban decay, one symbol stands out. A grinning skull. You're in Los Muertos territory, now.

You come to a conclusion in your plan as you drive between the boarded up buildings, few people out on the streets.

"So, set up in that hotel Daniels mentioned and do surveillance. Then, if we see anyone that looks promise, we just grab them. Shouldn't be too hard." Maribel comments, summing up the plan. "A drug dealer should be independent enough the rest of the Los Muertos won't be noticed if they're missing for a bit..." The dark tanned woman trails off, looking out into the decrepit streets you're driving through, that grinning skull visible everywhere. "...Bastards..." She mutters.

Then, your destination looms ahead. It's an old hotel, the electronic letters of its sign long burnt out. Yet, with fresh flowers in the planters by the door, open windows and a fresh coat of warm colored paint, it looked like a welcoming oasis among its sister buildings-were it not for the seventeen something kid by the entrance wearing a heavy hoodie. In 70 degree weather. You slow down to a halt by the sidewalk, the kid too distracted by the music playing on his ipod to notice. Inked into the skin of his neck, a grinning skull peaks out from the folds of the hoodie.

"Los Muertos. Hablando del rey de Roma...Hijo de puta." Maribel mutters under her breath. "Looks like a rookie, kill the engine eh?"

The engine dies, and you lean back, relying on the particularly dark tint of the windows and the glare of the sunlight off of them to hide you in plain sight. You can hear shouting from inside the hotel. What you swear is a British accent protests something. Then another, shrill yell rings out and three figures emerge into view. Two of them, are latino males bearing a plethora of tattoos including a grinning skull on their necks. They are pushing back a pale man with blonde hair and dark pants and t-shirt. He looks well into his thirties at the least, in comparison to the two thugs who barely look to be into their twenties. One, the less decorated of the two, wears ratty jeans and a simple t-shirt and remains behind the other. That one wears what look like designer jeans, laced with golden chains and cheap rings adorn his hands, clashing with the sweat stained wife beater he's wearing. Tattoos simply cover him, and the skull on his neck bears a diamond tat beneath it.

"I said-" Diamond skull growls, shoving the pale man back. "Get out of here gringo."
The pale man throws up his hands, standing tall against Diamond skull-Easy, when the man's so short.
"I'm tell you lad, I don't bloody well care about whatever it is you think is so-" He starts, and Diamond skull promptly knees him in the stomach. The man flinches, biting off a cry of pain-Then Diamond Skull's stooge throws him to the ground. Hoodie chuckles, looking up from his phone. Pale man starts to pull himself up, only for Diamond Skull to jerk him to his feet.

"Pince idiota, how many times do I need to tell you-Get your little puta nose out of our business, understand?" Diamond Skull shouts, shoving the man away from the front door. Maribel quietly rolls down the window as everyone's distracted by the spectacle and takes a few long sniffs of the air.

"Nother guy and some old girl inside. Just sit still, guys. Watch and wait, we don't want to-"

"Look, lad, I don't have any problem with whatever the sodding hell it is you're doing. You can tell your boss-" Pale man starts and then Diamond skulls pulls a pistol out from his pants and whips him across the face. Blood sprays onto the sidewalk, and pale man falls to one knee in pain as Diamond Skull puts his pistol to the man's head.

"Cabron, no me jodas! Are you dense? I won't ask again, gringo.  Get the hell out, now!" Diamond Skull snarls, cocking back the hammer on the weapon. Maribel sucks in a breath.

"Shitshitshit, okay...If we take them down fast enough, we might be able to grab one and convince him to tell Ricardo we were just another gang or something. Leave Los Muertos with a few less men too. But even if we do, Ricardo will freak, one way or another." Maribel whispers, nails scratching into the door side. "C'mon man, take the hint and back-off..." She mutters as pale man starts to rise up again. She's running through plans in her head, readying to take action. Better speak up quick or make your peace.

Hold off, hope things don't escalate. Watch, wait and do your job properly...