<br/>Kacy watched the dying girl curiously, an eyebrow arched. She'd had plenty of cause to make this kind of statement in her old life, running a street gang. The shooter was a good second in command for a gang - unpredictable, frightening, unlikely to be fucked with. Get someone like that on your chain, taking your orders, and nobody doubts you. Until they get too impulsive for their own good, and you have to put them down. Even that is a win - you are the bitch who put down the crazed, unfuckwithable killer. You just have to hope they don't get you into a gang war or cop trouble before you put them down. Kacy looked over Niki thoughtfully, picturing the day she would end up put down. Might be fun to watch, but Kacy didn't want to be the one given the job.<br/><br/>Of course, whatever this operation was, it didn't look like a street gang. Still, she was starting to get that dynamic. She watched the dying girl reach out and grab the shirt, her face lighting up with hope despite the deathly pallor and blood rushing from her shattered legs. Kacy snorted in amusement, shaking her head at the dying girl. Pretty young ladies were not a common target in her previous life, and she used to like to take her time with them (of course, one can't get carried away. She'd learned that from the failed assassins who wanted to put play before business when she was the target.). A nice garrotte strangulation would be nice for this one, but hey, this wasn't her show. Kacy was just glad this mess wouldn't be hers to clean up. She just kept her eyes locked on the dying girl, enjoying the entertainment for now. Whatever this was about, it would probably be explained soon enough.