Clyde is ready 

The suits are a tad too small in size for Clyde, Sam’s outfit fits him rather perfectly, he is smaller in stature than Clyde and so has no problems in that direction. Unlike him, Clyde let out a grunt in utter discomfort. Clyde tried valiantly to button up the waistcoat but the failed struggles only frustrated him, the buttons would not just go into the clasps. 

“Here, let me help you with that”, Sam finally says and Clyde lets out a slow breath, releasing his pent up frustration, he isn’t usually as easily riled up, the reason for his present condition being that he is particularly excited about the upcoming operation. Finally, he was close to  the one who took his father out. His emotions are in a roil, excitement about what’s to happen, the culmination of the months and years of patience and careful planning soon to pay off.

He is also very nervous, a lot of things could go wrong, they learnt about the ball pretty late and barely had enough time to throw together a plan for it, a gang member could blow his cover or even forget where his assigned position is and who to support when things went to hell which they would.

Hell fast approached and Clyde didn’t want to lose any of his members on that road. Jean pat Clyde’s shoulder as he made his way through. 

Satisfied with their appearance, the deed twins pushed open the anteroom doors and walked slowly, joining the rank of waiters waiting their turn to take charge of trays laden with drinks and refreshments for the guests. The dances had begun and the snatches of scattered applause could be heard as the waiters went in and out of the great hall, the performers were strutting their stuff. 

As they entered the great hall, he cast around with his eyes and soon espied the other members in their various disguises, Fat boy had managed to get himself in with the acrobats and was seemingly a part of their retinue, Vic, Tom and Leroy were with the clowns and seemed to be enjoying themselves as they performed to a little crowd of admiring guests in one corner of the hall. A tactic to spare the children. 

Not wanting to be too obvious, Clyde stopped scanning. Rather, his attention was focused on his duties as a waiter. His walk slow, as he went through the room. Nothing peculiar, he seemed like any other waiter, roaming about. He himself, began to single out targets in the crowd.

Luckstar is quite prominent, with the usual well-appointed dame on his arms, he makes loud remarks and laughs just as loudly enjoying the attention, the deed twins don’t say much but it’s obvious deals were being made with the bevy of politicians who engaged in quiet, seemingly one sided conversations with them.
The security is just on the perimeters, they are responsible for screening only those who do not belong and do not possess an invite to be present at the ball, hanger-on, the curious and gang-scrum are all off the beaten path, try however they might, they could not gain an entry. Once past this first screen of security, there is no other tangible one in evidence, evidently, a few of the Capas, gangsters and politician crowd are armed but this is frowned upon and discouraged.

Some gangs often had blood feuds and enmities, an ill received word and a stony glance was often all it took to stoke the flames of a shootout, since no one was inclined to being eliminated at their so-called parties over a bottle of wine by someone who is slightly drunk and prone to anger, this convention became a unspoken rule.

It is this rule that provides the golden path to Clyde’s plan.
They circle through the crowd, watching, entertaining, serving, identifying and waiting. The evening creeps slowly into night, Bonnie had earlier made an appearance to enthusiastic applause and gotten pressed into enough dances than she cared for and more that she positively reviled. She told her father to wait for her in another room, there was something special she wanted to talk to him about. He did so, after introducing her well. 

Keeping track of the time was no mean feat with her father intent on introducing her to everyone in his circle and whom he counted as being important, that seemed to be everyone at the party. A lingering look at the clock confirmed the time and she excuses herself politely, exiting the hall through the side doors.   There, she locked the door securely as agreed and left to the room she had designated as her retreat, there she would be safe. Her father had went on ahead straight to that room, now she had to carry out her end. Bonnie thought back to Clyde kissing her forehead as he slid her a small pistol.

Back in the ballroom, Herbert had been on the stage, as the lights died down, he’d begin to sing, leading the crowds to come over and witness his good singing. Trombone’s blared all around in perfect synchronicity. 

“ Stop, hit the quick groove, please flock! step on that move pose, grab clothes, yeah mock! bring in the honey you chose, real close, at the raise of this finger, everyone shout toast “ He had the crowd shout “ TOAST! “ Glasses rose up and clanged all around as he slid over and played a 12- Fret that was passed to him.

The clock clangs the hour and a wave of excited conversation passes through the crowd, it seemed the clowns had brought along a magician and he had grabbed some of the crowd’s attention  too, namely children that were moved away from what’d soon occur. They shuffle even closer together to get a better view of his actions and signify the start of the ballet of death.

Face grim, Clyde pulled the ice pick from within his garments and approached the back of the dancing crowd. There, he identified the target, a gangster named Toughbone, known for kidnapping children and exploitation. Stopping silently behind him, Clyde unleashed a blow with the ice pick, plunging it straight through the back and into heart, his other arm wraps around the man’s face and muffled his groans. It looked as if Clyde was  dancing  with him.  

Toughbone  didn’t struggle, stiffening, he trembled for a few seconds and then dropped limp, Clyde gently dragged him from the crowd and behind the side curtains, a few paces away, Sam did the same to another target. Methodically, they stab and pull from the back and soon the bodies can no longer be covered by the side curtains.

Clyde then signals to the Magician and to bring his performance to an end, flourishing his hands, he intones “Now, you die” and the crowd chuckles, he grins in reply, snaps his fingers and a cloud dissipates to show guns held in both hands. Meanwhile at the center, Herbert finished his song with “ Story line, it begins with once upon a dirty crime to climb“ 

 
The audience claps in appreciation thinking it still part of the performance, he bows, straightens and starts methodically shooting targets, it takes a few moments for reason to kick in and John posing as the magician makes them count, he aims for the perps they identified as probably being armed and sends bullets into heads, chests and torso, all deadly shots.

With gunfire erupting, Sam and Clyde behind the crowd pull out their guns also and go to town, some mobsters tried to shield behind other bodies and when this is the case, Clyde shoot at the foot, leading mobsters to fall over. At those instances, he ended with clean single shots to the head.  The Deed twins are the first to reply with gunfire having been double agents. One of them fired at Jean who had just manoeuvred to their side of the hall. Seeing one of the twins aim over, Jean became distracted by the chance of Clyde being shot, he ran in, the bullet missed at first, ricochets off the metal shelf behind him but having slid in, another bullet carved a hole through his chest as he smiled. 

He collapsed to the ground and his gun drops from his fingers, seeing this, Clyde roared with anger and furiously opened fire on the betraying twins. His bullets shred the comforter the twins were sheltering behind and then one of them got a hit on the shoulder of the hand that holds the gun. 

The gun clattered to the ground and the twin clutched his shoulder reflexively in pain, his movement exposed the top of his head, his smooth shaven skull is a perfect target as Clyde brought up Jeans gun and blew the top off, followed up by taking out the second one right after.

Turning back to Jean, he crouched at his side and touches an arm, “Jean! Jean! ”

Jean is dead, leading Clyde to slide Jean’s eyelids closed. Right then Clyde heard Sam shout a warning from where he is, ensconced a few paces away, “Popboss, look out!”  and a scant breath later, bullets shot spark a few feet from where Clyde crouched, forcing Clyde to leap for cover. The bullets followed him, he counted four seconds then surveyed the hall, ascertaining the direction of the shots and returns fire. 

The gun battle is intense but short, Fat Boy and the others dispatch off their targets quickly and switch their attention to the guards who had been at the entrance and had now raced into the hall in response to the gunshots, the neutrals or non-targets the gang left cowering on the ground, shaken but majorly untouched except those who had been caught in the crossfire. 

The guards died mostly with looks of surprise on their faces, they raced right into an ambush, focusing only on Clyde as soon as they entered meant the other gang members could pick targets with their aim and months of practice made them pretty good shots, in a few moments, it was over.
The plan is successful.

Surveying the hall, Clyde sees someone kneeling, unusual since most of the others are either completely prone on the ground or dead, Clyde went to investigate with his silver pistol held in his hand, tilted over the fellow. Fatboy watched him go. 

 What confused Clyde was how the fellow was smoking a cigar among the smoke. 

To Clyde’s surprise, upon inquiry, he learned it was Luckstar, better known as Charlie. Charlie was kneeling. He called Clyde “ Nephew”. As confirmed, he had ties with his father. Clyde was now quite intent on finding out more on his father and so  didn’t initially shoot Charlie dead. Rather, they took their talking quietly to one side of the room.  

Fatboy continued to watch as Clyde neared Charlie and began a conversation while still keeping the pistol drawn, a pained expression was on Clyde’s face, one of  grief and then a smile. 

The conversation went on for quite a while and Fatboy soon became curious about just what they were discussing, Molly’s whimpers however caught his attention. She had been in love with Jean, now he lay dead on the floor, blood has pooled under the body and Molly kneels beside him weeping her eyes out. Thus Fatboy headed over to comfort her as did Tom.

The rest of the gang finish setting explosives at one end of the hall and detonated it with a loud boom  that shook the foundations of the building. A section of the walls collapse and they swiftly begin to pour through taking Jean’s corpse with them, Clyde goes through second to last with Fatboy acting as cover against pursuit.

A few minutes later, Caesar and other officers stormed into the room and upon seeing the massacre, Caesar begins to vent out expletives in rage, among the dead, he caught sight of his father, his eyes swelled. 

The other officers stared in shock at the carnage, completely fazed by its utter completeness. Charlie stood in front of the giant hole in the wall with his hands behind his back. Dust loomed around him. Caesar ran to the open wall, where he saw Clyde on the back of a small old musky red truck. The moonlight reflected particles on the road. Caesar brought up his gun, aiming for Clyde, as Clyde brought his up and aimed at him as well. Though Clyde didn’t shoot, Caesar tried shooting but the bullets wouldn’t reach. 

 “CLYDE!” 

Neither could kill each other from the distance, at that moment.. But Caesar promised “Next time I’ll kill you!” He shouted through gritted teeth. Caesar lamented having  not been there from the start as he let out a scream, dying in a wail. He tried to shoot dead ahead, but had no bullets. Like that, Clyde was gone. 

 "You can't copy my answers, you have to make the right choices... in the end, this test of life... We'll see who gets the best results and makes the best experiences for those to come." 

 Elsewhere in the same building, Bonnie tried catching her breath inside of a room, dropping the gun she held when officers stormed in. The room was in a messy disarray as if some sort of mini tornado had passed through it  leaving plant pots shattered, seats overturned and a body laid flat on the ground, riddled with bullets. “ What is tarnation . . . “ One of the officers caught sight of two trembling younger girls in one corner partially naked. “Do you mean what in tarnation?” Asked the second officer. Bonnie herself had the upper sleeve of her dress, visibly torn.