Death of a Salesman

Knowing full well that Jaws isn't a stupid man Brett contemplates the situation

Comms:
"OK, so bomb or strike team is coming. Did he say anything or.. do something with his hands, give you a funny look? Signal you in anyway? Any clue as to what's next"

Brett keeps his eyes open for Jaws leaving the room

A horrifying realization dawns on Sergei.

He speaks to the Assistant without emotion.

"We will escort him to his car so he doesn’t try to run off without paying."

He gestures to Numa.

"Come. In case some juice head tries to roll him holding 200 large on his way back in."

Mr Brett casually moves over to the trash can with his gear in it

Sergei reaches under the bar and grabs the bag with his AK and heads out behind Jaws.

"Numa, please."

Sergei does not look behind to see if Numa follows.
Instead he is taking in the surroundings outside to include where the soon-to-be upset goons are located.

Comms:
"Coming out hot."

Sergei bothers Numa as soon as he logs out. He curses in Creole. He ain't no meatslab bodyguard. But his job for now was done and going together was better than going alone. And for once, Sergei did say "please." Numa cracks his neck and finally follows Sergei.

Zeta maintains her ruse of innocent bystander/opportunist and looks up with interest as the pace of events quickens. She figures she has no need for being first to act in any scenario. She waits… alert, while trying to look nonchalant.

Brett grabs his bag and moves to find cover between himself the bodyguards while gaining distance from the room. He unzips his bag

Comms:
"Let's all just calmly walk to the car. Numa, if you could please start er' up. Flesher, Sergei, if those boys start poppin corn we drill em hard and pop smoke. Sound good?"

Brett starts to move towards the car and reaches into his bag for a smoke grenade.

Sergei keeps walking and casually unzips his bag as well.

Comms:
"Da. Ready with the tear gas. Gonna flatten this fucks. Carlisle, are you ready with the car. Shit is about to flare up, Choom."

Sergei looks at the ten goons and sizes them up. He’s looking for who’s paying attention and who might give them trouble when the wet work starts.

Comms:
"Please and thank you, Carlisle. It's about to get hot so keep your head down, stop just short of us and flip a bitch. We'll jump in."