"Hang back, Eor. I'm going in for a closer look. Be ready to turn the rig around; I might need backup."
EE leaped from the top of the boxcar and gripped a windowsill on the side of the enemy compound.. As quietly as he could, he slipped through the window of the warehouse, a only a bulging forearm and an iron grip keeping him from falling. It was not time to ambush those below. Not yet.
The target slithered into the room. Relieved the posted guards. Just as expected, he set his ill gains upon the table, rifling through the filthy money with negligent regard for its source. This was money paid for by death, but EE knew this wasn't a man with such ordinary concerns. This was Glyphmoney$$$, and the only word for his being was 'reprehensible'.
EE saw his chance. Glyph neared the window and reached into the sink below it, turning on the faucet. With his free hand, he continued counting his filthy money, flicking each bill back with his thumb and mouthing the number without a sound. As he leaned down to enjoy some of the radiant stream, EE released his hold, falling down onto the depraved criminal and causing his face to smash into the side of the sink. The money scattered like frightened pigeons.
Glyph was quick, strong, but too disoriented by the blow. EE shirked around him and tightened the cuffs around his wrists before Glyph could regain his bearings to fight back. All the while, the rust-stained dollar bills rained down upon them like some Reaganistic snowfall.
"I'm sorry," EE grunted. He withdrew a pair of sunglasses and slipped them onto his face. "I didn't mean to break your... train of thought."
T R A I N C O P S
Coming this fall to NBC.