The logic behind display cases has always baffled Wash. 'Yes, here's something shiny and ridiculously valuable, so let's put it out where God and everybody can access it instead of putting it in a high-security vault.' He could make an exception for museums and art, but powerful magical artifacts should probably be under lock and key when not in use.

But hey, if someone else's ego and shitty logic make his life easier, he's all for it.

Getting in the building is not the most difficult thing he's ever had to do. Taking care of the Censors is slightly higher on that list, but the Indies had a silencer he was able to fit to his pistol, so even that wasn't too terrible. Every Censor he's brought down (with stun ammunition, because contrary to popular belief, he's not a complete monster - and he needs to start carrying more stun ammo for long-term away missions, as this particular mission is starting to prove) has been bound, gagged, divested of all comm equipment, and shoved out of the way somewhere - in closets, unused studios, and the occasional bathroom stall when the occasion arose. Before anyone can sound the alarm, they've made it to the private collection room.

He pauses outside the door and glances back at the rest of the team. "Remember the plan: in and out, as quickly and quietly as possible. Then we grab the other two teams and get the hell out of here." Regardless of whether or not the distraction team has finished off the Executive, because priorities are priorities - not that Wash has shared that particular thought with anyone since the plans were made and set into action.