Hidden passage, Centerfold, Spectre HQ.
It was a rather quiet day in the centerfold. Every member was too busy scrambling to gather their stolen keeping to sell on the black market tomorrow.
In a secret tucked away corner, two men talked in the darkness, their faces shrouded.
"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" The first man spoke up, tucking a cigarette between his lips. With the flick of a match, the man lit the tip, a puff of smoke rolling from his mouth.
"Isn't it obvious? From here, everything should come easy." The other man spoke up, leaned up against a wall.
"We can't be so careless about how this falls into place. We need to plan this carefully. Put some thought into it."
"You're right, but I think I've given sufficient thought. Here's what I have. I say we keep em busy till the last round. It'll be up to me to win every fight and be the last squad standing. Then in the last battle, that's when I'll make my move. The rest will be up to you."
The man smoking the cigarette took one last puff before stomping it on the brick floor.
"Sounds alright to me."
"Good. You sure you can take him? He's a phantom for a reason."
"I'll make quick work of it. Like you said…leave it to me." From the shadows emerged the man that just spoke, his brown newsie cap poking from the darkness. Scars littered his face, his breath hot with nicotine. The man's low brown eyes peered around the corners, then when it was safe, fully emerging from the secret spot, turning back to the man in the darkness.
"Don't screw this up, Herrick. I'm counting on you." The other man said, emerging from the spot as well. His ruffled red hair swayed slightly with each step, revealing his tall, toned figure.
"For your sake, I could never. Good luck, Freed."