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Eliot had made a judgement based on the file he'd been handed by Moreau and the noise on the street that followed the name. It was a simple drop and leave, no need to hide the body, no need to be elegant about it. His mark was going to send Moreau's message back to his boss and he wouldn't need to be alive to do it.
He knew it wasn't going to be simple. Guerrero was some serious dude, and Eliot wasn't prone to underestimating people.
Problem was... he'd seen this guy and he'd underestimated him.
He was smaller than Eliot (and Eliot wasn't small, he just had a lot of tall friends), which was a hell of a surprise because there weren't many assassins out there with Guerrero's rep who were so small... And with hair that looked like it got in his eyes half the time, and a messy scruff on his face... He'd jumped to so many conclusions and... well, that's what had gotten him here.
His gun's a good way out of reach, gone in the first flurry of movement as soon as he'd gotten too close, Guerrero has a second in the back of his jeans and Eliot's been trying hard not to give him the chance to go for it, the first one he'd pulled is over in the fishtank in the corner, which makes it pretty safe as far as Eliot's concerned. And this has turned into a hand to hand fight with someone smaller than him.
Eliot's been fighting guys bigger than him his whole life, this should be easy.
Problem is, he's just so damn fast as he ducks under Eliot's reach and puts blows in with hammer force before Eliot has even realised he's moved in close. Eliot's sure if he can get Guerrero into a take down he'll have the upper hand, but so far every time he's got a hand on him the smaller man's spun out from under him. He's starting to realise why the bigger guys look so slow and cumbersome to him. Sure, he's getting the blows in himself, he isn't asleep on the job, but Guerrero is like a little jack-in-the-box.
There's a moment when they spin away from each other and Eliot remembers the second gun just as he realises he's ended up along side his own. There's a frenzied movement on both sides and the guns are up and they're back to a deadlock.
This time, it's a deadlock where they're both breathing hard, bloodied and stooped around injuries.
"Dude, you've got a cool style," the other assassin says, with something like a grin on his face. Eliot is totally thrown, considering just shooting this guy for putting him off his game so badly, but he can't help but verbalise...
"You're pretty damn fast," with a shrug, sharing compliments.
And then they're ducking around bullets and back into flight.