Nate was lucky.  Part of being a filch is being unknown.  But when you want to get into the drug business, people treat your criminal record like your resume.  And Desmond's had some rather colorful pieces.  So, in short, he was fucked.<br/><br/>"Fuck!  Nate, get the stuff back to my place, the ANTs will want me more than you.  I'll distract them for a bit before ditching them."  By this time Nate was already climbing the wall and the ANTs had noticed and identified Desmond.<br/><br/>Charging down the alley, Desmond made a break for the Club of Wolves, a big hangout for the local gang.  They had been trying to get Desmond either out of business or to give them free beast, which Desmond did not appreciate, so he saw this as karma.  He was just coming to their street when an ANT stepped out into his path, blocking the whole alleyway.  Taking out two knives from his sheathes he started running diagonally up the wall, jumping and using his knives to boost himself out of the ANTs reach.<br/><br/>Desmond arrived at the second floor of the Club of Wolves,  jumping in through a window he landed in what seemed like a girls dressing room, based on the half dressed girls.<br/>"Morning, I suggest you get out of here."<br/>Desmond then shouldered the door open and jumped of the opposite rail strait into the front room of the club, with the sounds of smooth jazz, girls screaming, and ANTs busting through the door accenting his flight towards the chandelier.<br/><br/>He grabbed onto the edge of the chandelier and swung from it to the other side of the upper floor, no time to stay today.  Landing on the far railing he charged through the door to a private booth and out the back window.  Latching onto the buildings outer wall with his knives he started to climb to the top of the building, the sound of bullets and gangster screams coming like a symphony out of the building.   That ought to teach both parties to mess with him.