<div class="floatleft">(https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/0ace64f2-70c4-4a84-8238-612f751ca766/d47uzvp-944a6986-4240-442e-b1cd-302591e2f4bd.jpg/v1/fill/w_762,h_1049,q_70,strp/wanda_langkowski_aka_sasquatch_by_wardogs101_d47uzvp-pre.jpg)</div><strong>Code Name</strong>: Sasquach<br/><strong>Real Name</strong>: Wanda Langowski<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Road Trip<br/><strong>Date/Time</strong>: Monday the 7th of September (2015) - 4:30 PM<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Warpath<br/><strong>Content</strong>: Road trip!<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Wearing</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRobTgfkRhhPnPsgvcRf50sCdm6s3FAefVfu_3669ScvqZd7YGc)</div></div><hr/><br/>“They are Russians. Russian mobsters, as a matter of fact Jimmy. I am opening my top to draw their eyes from my face till I get inside. They will leer, mutter things in Russian, or whatever location dialect they grew up in about my tits, ass or legs. So long as they do that we’re kosher as granny used to say.” She got out and headed in her boot heel clicking on the street sidewalk as she let Jimmy fall in a discrete distance behind her for this one.  Touching her ear, she activated her commlink in her ear after the half dozen or so hard men watched her wander thru their tables. The place had the feel of an mobster’s ‘social club’ than an gym.<br/><br/>“Everything looks good so far but if things  go south the two gents with the stevedore coats have at least a handgun and the guy in the black track suit looks like his ‘tool bag’ is the right size for a sawed off or something similarly sized. They all have Vory tattoos on their neck or hands.”  With that she stepped inside the ‘gym’.<br/><hr/><br/>For the next few minutes everything seemed to go fairly well. Jimmy didn’t make out much over the earpiece. Wanda was speaking Russian. At first it was quiet, then a bit flirtatious, then clearly cold an threatening.  Then two words came over the earpiece and from right in front of him as a man nearly his size came thru the window. Followed by a whirling piece of metal that imbedded itself into the windshield of an older Volvo nearby<br/><br/><em>Baga Yaga.</em>The mana was screaming as he plowed thru the crowd of mobsters.  The more agile of them ducked or dodged out of the way, almost all them were suddenly looking at the sole stranger in the area. Jimmy.