Sicily smiled somewhat coldly as she pressed the muzzle of her gun to the hollow that connected his spine to his skull an instant and perfect kill shot.  "Drop the gun..." she said coldly pushing the gun against the flesh to let him know she wasn't playing around with him, "and step away from the car...you Ravens are all the same...you probably want to take a shit on the paint job." Her voice was cold, her hand steady, she had done this more times than she cared to admit and now no longer blinked an eye even though part of her knew she should.  She had lines on her left arm three of them, like tally marks, signifying the number of kills she had made.  This was not the life she had chosen but she played the hand she was dealt with an expert hand.  Besides she knew if she didn't kill them they would kill her it was her life or theirs and like anyone she valued her own skin.