Bronze Devil and Wraith had decided to stick around the base while the youngsters tore off to see what they could learn from Mikala. They figured if they found something they would fill them in, if not, that was their prerogative. Toril figured that Yelena would probably tag along with Cowboy, they'd know each other for a while and he needed the support but he still thought he might ask her to accompany him and Bronze. Even before he could speak, however, Gabriel had given him a rather forceful cuff on the shoulder to usher him away along with him.

"What's up, Bronze?", Asked Toril, confused with his behaviour.

"Studio. How much d'ya know about these people?" Questioned the Bronze Devil when they were well out of ear shot.

"I know enough, Bronze. Damn, you're getting paranoid in your old age!" Countered Wraith. "Do you think I would throw in them if I wasn't sure?"

Bronze shrugged his shoulders innocently. "I'm just lookin' out for ya. That's all."

Toril smiled. "Well, thanks, but I think I pick and choose who I hang out with. Dad." he joked.

"Hey! You'd be damn lucky to have a father like me!" Playfully retorted Gabriel.

Wraith laughed. "Bronze, no offense, but you damn well know that you're not even close to having the wisdom of all your years."



The Bronze Devil toggled his head from side to side. "Yeah, I know, but I'm still your senior so you better listen."

The big Norwegian just shook his head and smiled. It was true, that despite Gabriel's 121 years, his mind was more like that of a 25 year old who had seen a lot, but still couldn't fully apply the wisdom. It was because of his slow developing mind he still couldn't draw the same conclusions that Toril or even his wife, Julie, was able to. Toril realized this and so he rarely got too perturbed with his old friend, since he usually meant well and now at least he had a chance to finally meet Sigma.



As the Bronze Devil's heavy steps could be heard approaching the office door, Sigma quickly pulled up his mask just as he rapped at the window. "Come in." Shouted Sigma.

Bronze Devil ducked under the door and Toril followed closely behind. "This is Wraith." Introduced Gabriel and the Norwegian quickly offered his hand in greeting, which Sigma shook firmly. "Nice to meet ya." he greeted.

"So one of the new people might be trouble, already. Seems her psycho father might have nabbed her." Informed Gabriel.

"You don't say." Replied Sigma as he was reading something on his monitor.

"So any luck, with the Silicone Surfer case?" Asked Gabriel.

"Contacted Everet." Mentioned Sigma.

"Everet?" Questioned Bronze Devil, "D'ya think he'll help?"

Sigma didn't respond, still focused on the computer screen, which was his way of by-passing those inquiries he didn't have the answers to and when Bronze Devil didn't receive an answer right away changed the subject. "D'you think maybe Everet might give us hand tracking down somebody else?"

Toril smiled appreciatively to Bronze Devil's gesture and while it didn't sound like Everet, who he knew was the former psychometric hero, Grave Sight, would lend them a hand, it was the thought that counted. As gruff as the Devil was he always tried to make amends in his own way and he obviously was trying to make up for over stepping his bounds. Wraith did wish though that Everet could help, his powers to see into the past could offer them some insights, but he could only find her if they could find the place that she was abducted, if in fact she was. They still weren't positive that she just wasn't hanging out a bar somewhere or maybe she decided to go home, wherever that may be.

(Friday, May 22, 4:00 pm, Green Street Base)

Henery Timble had not taken kindly to FBI Special Agnet Kaleb Mitchell's threat to assemble a team to crawl all over his ranch. Henrey's face turned dark as he glared at Agent Mitchell and sat his ccoffee cup down wth enough forse to rattles the saucer and splash coffee over the rim. Mrs. Timble looked at Agent Mitchel and just shook her head. It was obvious this man did not understand how things were down in Texas.

Henery stood up and said "Well now I tell ya just what ya do thar Special Agant Kaleb Mitchell. .... Ya git in yur fancy govermant car thar and ya just go on an git yur team of hyerd hands ...... Ya bring em' on out char with a court order and ya just look all ya want. Ya be sur a look under evry rock, behind evry Mequite bush and in evry water hole on this har five thousand acre ranch. Mean time I gotta cattle ranch ta run so you suited up bastards can have McDonald burgers ta eat durin' the week an' prime steaks ta eat on Satr'day night." Henery then walked over, leaned down and kissed his wife. "Me an the boys be out mendin' them fences on the south forty. Be back 'bot dinner time." Henery then stoled over to his horse, jumped up in the saddle and started to leave. "Oh Kathy ifin' this har "Gentleman" can't find his way ta tha gate you git Juan and Charlie ta show him tha way" Henery then rode off.




Footnote: leap back in time used as a means to reintroduce some backround investigation by the FBI - time will catch up for these characters shortly

Agent Mitchell, tucked his pen and notepad back into his pocket as he stood up to face Mr. Timble's roaring protests. He had said nothing in reply, remaining calm and politely acknowledging every angry word which just seemed to piss the rancher off all the more, and he knew it. His smug smile was one of his best weapons, and Special Agent Mitchell had his sharpened to the edge of a razor.

When Mr. Timble was done, Kaleb reached back into his pocket and pulled out his search warrant, reminding the rancher that he had the power to turn every stone over on his property, but to be fair to his wife he tucked it back and proceeded to leave. After the crusty saddle bag road off, Kaleb turned to Mrs. Timble with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for ruining your morning and I am afraid you'll be seeing me again but it will be on the terms of the government." He told her as he walked down the stairs of the veranda. Mitchell turned to her, getting one last good look at the Texas beauty. "M'am." He bid her, "You've nothing but hospitable, I promise that my men will respectful of your home and we'll get this sorted out as quick as possible. I'll find my own way out." If Kaleb had been wearing a hat he would have tipped it to her but instead he just gave a little smile and went on his way.

He jumped into his SUV and started to head back to his hotel room at the Embassy Suites in Lubbock.

(May 1 - 9:15 am - Circle T Ranch - Arnett, Texas)

Morgan watched Frank through half closed eyes, fighting the darkness threatening to overtake her. She couldn't afford to pass out now. Frank had gone out and returned within a few minutes, carrying a longer rope. As he came over to her, his smile, once again, was chilling. He was actually enjoying her torture and that scared more than anything.

He didn't say a word as he looked up, turning in a circle, finally finding what he was apparantly looking for. Tieing the board with nails to one end of the rope, he threw it up and over a long hanging beam the board hitting the cement floor with bang about 10 feet from the chair Morgan was in. He then untied the board from the rope and walked over to the railing at the stairs and laid the rope down next to it. Shaking the railing, he made sure it was still sturdy and solid.

Walking over to Morgan, he chuckled.

"Now, the real shit begins, whore of the devil. Now we have fun."

Untieing her hands from behind her to only retie them in front of her, he drags her over to the end of the rope dangling from the beam. Tieing that end to the rope binding her hands he lets her drop to the floor, laughing about her legs not holding her. Walking over to the railing, he grabs the rope and pulls until Morgan is hanging there by her arms, her toes barely touching the floor.

Morgan looks at Frank, knowing that soon, she is going to have call to the rats, no matter what Frank does to her, before he kills her, even if it means some of them would lose their lives.

Frank comes over with the razor strap in his hands, ripping the tape off of Morgan's mouth again.

"Now, let's go through this one more time, Morgan. Do you confess to your sins and where is 'Cowboy'?"

Morgan, her eyes glaring at him, smiles at him.

"I confess to nothing, you bastard!! As for 'Cowboy', I will take where he is to the grave if I have to before I tell you anything!"

Frank's face turns red, his dark eyes becoming darker. Raising his hand, he brings the razor strap down on her, the strap wrapping around her waist, leaving a nasty red welt. Morgan jerks, but makes no sound. Frank then remembers the tape, and covers Morgan's mouth again.

He brings the strap down again and again, leaving bloody welts on her back, mid-section, and legs. Again, muffled screams are heard from behind the tape.

"WHERE IS COWBOY AND WILL YOU CONFESS TO YOUR SINS?!!!!"

Again, Morgan glares at him, her eyes turning dark once more.

Frank can't believe that she is still not doing what he wants her to do and his anger knows no bounds as he stares into her eyes, slamming past the barrier she'd erected in her mind, causing a whimper to be heard from her.

Morgan suddenly smells burning flesh, then she feels the pain in her midsection. First a C then an A, next an S, another S, and an I, and last an E is somehow burned into her skin. The letters are only one inch high and half an inch wide, but the pain is excrutiating and if her mouth hadn't have been taped shut, the group would have heard her screams down at the safehouse. Looking down, she sees Cassie's name seared into her flesh.

"Damn, didn't know the 'angels' would help me do that. I did pretty good work, don't you think so, Morgan? Now you will never forget that poor baby girl you got killed."

Frank walks back over to the table, laughing, wondering what else the 'angels' will help him do to purge Morgan's soul of it's sins.

Morgan hangs there, her toes barely touching the floor, blood dripping from her toes, onto the floor from her bloody welts and the puncture holes that have been reopened on her legs. She wants so badly to let the darkness take her, but she doesn't dare. She has to beat him, she has to win, she has to destroy him or she'll never be free, she knows this.

Frank puts a call in to Birkshire, but doesn't tell him where he's at.

"Birkshire, I got Morgan but 'Cowboy' wasn't with her. She was alone. I'm going to find out where he is and get back to you............what do you mean, Slither wasn't there when you got there?!................How in the hell should I know where she went?!.............she was there, sound asleep when I left..............Fine!!! I will finish with Morgan and then finish with Slither, have the other vials of blood ready for me for the escapees so that I can track them down for you............yea, yea, yea, I'll do it your way the next time and stick with the perp.........Yes, I understand."

He hung up, wanting to break something. Didn't Birkshire understand that he had to avenge little Cassie first, then the others would be taken care of. Sighing, he turned around to face Morgan.

While he had his back turned to her, Morgan called to the rats in the building, having them stay in the shadows, waiting.

May 22, 2010 9:00 p.m.

McManus opened his eyes, he had only been sleeping for a few hours. There was movement outside the door of his cell, the mechanic could hear tumblers turning, R.A.I.D. was coming in.

The foot thick door swung open, it swung out into the hall. Four R.A.I.D. troopers in full gear were in the doorway, they all had V batons, the weapons crackled with electricity.

Come with us McManus, no fighting or we'll give you the business.
One of the troopers motioned to the mechanic to come. John hopped onto his one leg and moved toward the agents.

Can I get a little help, I only got one leg ya jerks. McManus intentionally hopped slowly at the agents. The trooper that was doing the talking motioned to the others, two of them holstered their batons and approached McManus with caution. John hopped to them leaning on their shoulders, the tops of their helmets came to about John's shoulders. John put all his weight on them with a smile, the troopers groaned as they tried to stay up straight under the bulk of the big man.

You girls are doing a fine job... McManus sneered as they moved slowly towards the open door of the cell. The two troopers stumbled as they moved, the other two watched intently still brandishing their V batons.

Ow, ow..... John winced as they carried him through the cell door.
What is it McManus?. The lead agent barked.

It's my...it's my BALLS, I thought you could scratch 'em for me. John had a big grin on his face.
In one swift movement John swung the troopers that were carrying him into each other. Their heads collided, their helmets crashed face to face, broken visor pieces rained onto the floor. They lost their balance and composure and fell to the floor. John began to smash them with his fist, they attempted to roll away from the mechanic.

The other two agents jumped at John, gouging him with their batons. Blue flashes filled the room again and again as they shocked the hero. The mechanic did not make a sound as they punished him with the weapons. They beat him and shocked him for several minutes, an alarm was sounding in the hall as other agents became aware of the scuffle.

John slipped to his knees, he grit his teeth as a few more agents joined the fight. The agents John had got the jump on were stiil close by, John grabbed one by the ankle, he swung the man at the others.

God D@mmit men, subdue the prisoner! The lead man barked as John tossed one of their own right at him. The man collided with the others that were still on their feet knocking them back onto the hall. John hopped back to his feet (or foot as it were). He moved like an animal, he jumped at the R.A.I.D. troopers, it was now 4 or 5 on one.

Take this bastard down, he has one leg for F#@ks sake! There was fear in the trooper's voice as he tried to regain control of the scenario. The baton strikes were beginning to take their toll, John could feel his muscles beginning to shut down. John wavered a little as he struggled to stand on his one leg.

The troopers moved all around the big man, the batons flashed and hummed with each blow.
This was fun girls we have ta do it again... John mumbled as fell to his knees again, the fight was leaving him, he slugged one more agent as he fell. The trooper flew back several feet and fell flat on his ass.

They gave the hero a few more blows for good measure, the big man's eyes rolled back in his head and he finally passed out, his skin smoking from the many baton charges. The troopers caught their breath and gathered up their wounded.

Get this ape to the transport level, we have orders to take him to headquarters for interrogation. Jesus, I am sick of going through this every time we have to move this a$$hole... The lead agent huffed as he glared at the giant one legged man laying before him.

It took four troopers to haul John to the garage level, they dumped him in an armored R.A.I.D. vehicle and pulled away from the bunker like facility. All four men rode with their prisoner.

Mrs. Timble simpley smiled as Agent Mitchell smiled and climbed ito the govertment SUV. She gathered up the coffee cups and walked into the ranch house. Once inside she called to Conswello "Conswello will you take these please."
Coswello had been in the employ of Mr. & Mrs. Timble eversince she had imigrated to the United States. Tim Rutherford had found her one night walking the streets of Dallas, homeless, and brought her to the Circle "T" ranch. In fact it was Mr. & Mrs. Timble who had arranged for her to obtain her green card, paid for her to attend the required classes to become a United States citizen eight years ago.

"Si Mrs. Timble, will dis govenmant man cause trouble for Senior Timble?" Conswello asked in broken english.

Mrs. Timble smiled and said "No Conswellow, I think Henerey will probabl cause Agent Mitchell a few sleepless nights. If I know my husband." she surpressed a giggle and turned to walk to the study. There she picked up the phone and dialed (512) 463-0128, the office of Senator Robert L. Duncan at the Texas State capitol in Austin, Texas.

"Senator Duncan's office, this is the Senator's Secretary Jullie Rainbridge, speaking. How may I help you today." .......

"Hello Jullie, this is Kathy Timble, may I speak with the Senator please?" Mrs. Timble said

Jullie said "Well hello there Kathy, how is life on the ranch?.....I am sorry the Senator is on the Senate floor can I have him call you?"

"Oh I love it Jullie, everybody is doing great and we have three mares close to having fowls. Yes, have Bob call me as soon as he can. You and Steven must come for a visit soon, hun, and bring Stevie and David. I gota run now, talk to you soon. Give Steven and the boys my love." Mrs. Timble then hung up and walked back out on the porch.

By the time Agent Mitchell had arrived back in Lubbock he had already been in contact with his Director and arranged a team to meet him at the Embassy Suites by tomorrow afternoon. That gave Kaleb the morning to catch some of the sights and he planned on stopping by the Buddy Holly museum but until then he planned to have a relaxing supper then perhaps he'd check out the night life.

Kaleb cleaned the steam from the bathroom mirror and debated whether or not he should shave. He was nude except for the towel he wrapped around his waist. He was a fit man, large rounded shoulders and a defined abdomen. On his his left pectoral was a tattoo of an eagle resting upon an anchor crossed by a trident, the symbol of a Navy Seal and below it the dates, 1998 - 2002. He reached down and grabbed his shaving cream just as his blackberry rang. His Director had just gotten off the phone with a Senator Duncan who was apparently a relation of Mrs. Kathy Timble and the search warrant had been revoked. "This was signed by a judge." Argued Special Agent Mitchell, but it seemed that the corruption of the country he tried everyday to believe in just kept on growing. "Yes, sir." responded Mitchell, "I will, sir..... You too."

Agent Mitchell put down the phone and sighed. The Director had superseded Simon Henkel's authority and had as of that minute reassigned him to a new case. He was to leave first thing in the morning and meet up with other agents in Austin and he was to have nothing further to do with the Timble's. That's the part that pissed off Kaleb the most because he knew that guy was hiding something. He had Henry on the ropes, and he definitely wasn't the type to back down from a fight which is why he suspected that his wife arranged all this behind his back. "Women!", cursed Kaleb aloud.

There was only one thing to do now. Kaleb pulled out one of his suitcases and threw it on the bed. It was the case that he rarely had to open, but he kept with him for just these occasions. Opening it revealed an array of military gadgets and a dark grey and black camouflage uniform meant for night operations, the kind he wore when he was a Seal. He quickly gave his weapons a check, then put on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, and made his way out of the hotel with his case and got into his SUV.

It was one in the morning as a black clad, Agent Mitchell scanned the Timble ranch house with a high-tech pair of night vision binoculars that accessed the thermal imager that he had placed on top of the hood of his SUV. If there was a heat source, he saw it. There could be no mistakes, he couldn't risk being caught and even more so he didn't want to end up in a situation where he would have to take a life. Not that the killing bothered him, he'd killed before, but he would be a prime suspect and he didn't want to go down for just appeasing his curiousity.

Kaleb made his way to where he had spotted the old truck that had earlier sparked his interest and found it was still in the same location. Expertly he jimmied the lock and used a hand held device that somehow shorted out the interior light. He was wearing a sleek pair of night vision glasses, that appeared to be sunglasses, but in fact they allowed a limited range of light sensitivity so that he would be able to search the interior of the vehicle with no light.

Quickly the agent, rifled through the glove compartment and found some old faded bills which he kept then a thorough search of the rest of truck yielded nothing of interest. The biggest clue of all, however, had been right in front of his eyes the whole time. Hanging from the rear view mirror was a pair of dog tags and Kaleb knew that they were authentic not just by his military experience but because he recognized the name. "Son-of-a-bitch." he whispered. The tags belonged to a Seal.

He was alerted to the sound of a rock being kicked off a hard toed boot. Smoothly and calmly, the former naval officer slipped out of the cab and lightly closed the door. A ranch hand rounded the corner as he lit up a cigarette and as he walked passed the old truck noticed nothing and the unsuspecting man carried on his way, while Agent Mitchell slipped into the night and back to his SUV. It would be several weeks later before Kaleb would be able to return to analyzing his finds and when he did learned that the dog tags did in fact belong to a one, Sergeant Jim Beck, killed in the line of duty in 2002, the year that Kaleb left the service to start his training in the Bureau.

Kaleb had never known, Sergeant Beck personally but after some extensive investigation into his service records learned that he had been involved in some pretty intense operations, missions that his unit thankfully never saw. After reviewing Beck's unit, he found two that had ties with Texas, one who was born and raised and the other a law enforcer who was a New York transplant. The native Texan really didn't fit the profile, but the other, a Tim Rutherford seemed to fit the bill. The perpetrator had extensive knowledge of New York, yet was reported to have a Texas accent and when Kaleb saw his picture he knew he had found the Wrangler, otherwise known as Cowboy in the meta-human world and was filed as such by RAID.




Senior Special Agent Simon Henkel and his partner Special Agent Rick Jameson exited the airport and started walking toward a black Crown Victoria that was propping up two men in suits wearing the exact same style of sunglasses. They had just been transferred to Chicago to assist RAID with the recent increase in meta-human crime and would be working along side, of all people, Supervising Agent Birkshire who had been recently called in as well. It was a joint effort to quell the resistance and also to deal with a new organization called Umbra, that local enforcers attributed most of the violence to.

Agent Henkel stopped when his phone rang and placed his luggage on the pavement. "I'll catch up to ya, Jameson." He told his partner as he took the call. "Hello."

"Simon. It's Kaleb, I think I found your man, I'm uploading the information to your PDA right now." Informed the Texas agent.

Henkel took a quick glance then put his blackberry back to his ear. "Good work, Kaleb! I owe ya!" he praised as he picked up his baggage and continued on to the car. "Look, Kaleb I can't really talk right now, but I'll look what you sent over and get back to ya. Alright?"

"Sure thing." Answered Kaleb then hung up.

Henkel placed his luggage in the trunk of the car and greeted the other two agents. He got into the back of the car and immediately began scanning through the data then he looked over at his partner with a worried expression . "Shit! Take a look at this." He said as he passed the PDA to Jameson.

Jameson reviewed the identification. "Tim Rutherford." He recited, then nodded when he saw the picture. "That's definitely him." he verified then his eyes widened as he read on, "A navy seal? He's also ex-law enforcement, a detective." Jameson laughed. "No wonder." Then he handed the PDA back to Henkel. "Sensitive situation." he commented.

"Tell me about it." Replied Simon as he scrolled back up to Rutherford's place of residence. "I think I'm going to send Mitchell back to Arnette, Texas to check out this guy's home. We'll see what he can dig up before we proceed any further." Henkel decided. He then looked out the car window and surveyed the familiar Chicago landscape.

Special Agent Henkel had been stationed in Chicago for years before he transferred to New York. His familiarity with the city was one of the reasons he had been brought in for the special assignment, that and he was requested by Birkshire for some reason. Jameson believed it was because the RAID supervisor respected him, but Henkel simply thought it was just because Birkshire knew that he was the only agent that could tolerate his bullshit. Whatever the reason, he was glad to be home. RAID needed back up and he was going to provide it and he was glad to have the opportunity to work alongside the NSA for a change instead of against them. That's all RAID really was; a special branch of the National Security Agency that was formed to deal with meta-humans, but the problem was becoming so rampant now that they were over taxed and their resources stretched. The President himself had encouraged this partnership, so now the FBI and RAID were going to partner up to clean up the mean streets of Chicago.

(Friday, May 22, 5:00 pm. Chicago)

Bronze Devil walked around Sigma's desk to take a look at what he was monitoring and was surprised to find that he had accessed the R.A.I.D. network. He noted the safety timer in the lower right of the screen then realized that Silicone Surfer had somehow setup a permanent tap that could be accessed for a certain amount of time. "Damn that girl was smart." Gabriel commented, "A R.A.I.D. tap. Why'd ya bring this up?"

"There was an alert of the capture of a well known meta." Answered Sigma leaning back into his chair as the timer entered the final ten second count down before logging off.

"Who?" Asked Bronze Devil impatiently.

"I don't recognize the name. John McMannus, New York resident." Sigma informed Bronze.

"You're shittin' me!" Exclaimed Bronze, "You're sure?" he asked and Sigma responded by simply nodding his masked face. "Crap!" Roared the Devil looking to Wraith who was as in the dark as Sigma. "John's work was a little more covert, but I met him once a while back. I know he's registered, which makes this all the more serious." Explained Gabriel. "Did you happen to see where he was, Sigma?"

"Just said he was in transit." Answered Sigma.

"Well the next time you can log on, you find out all you can about McMannus." Ordered Gabriel.

Sigma nodded as he checked the scheduler. "Be at least an hour before I can access the system again without exposing our worms." he told Bronze Devil.

Gabriel nodded, then turned to Wraith. "I'm gonna need your help to follow through on this one. Y'know I can't involved." he said regrettably.

"I know." Wraith said understandably and wondered if either Yelena or Cowboy knew this McMannus since he was from New York as well.

(Friday, May 22, 4:15 pm, Green Street Base)

"Thank ya Mikala." Tim sais as he took the diary back from her, then looked at Totem, "I recokn we need a set of eyes ta go along wit' that thar nose of yurs Totem. Let's git ar asses back ta the Green Street base and pick up Yelena an' Shawn. Then we can comense ta havin' a look see 'round." Tim saw the confusion on Totem's face and said "That thar blind boy kin see thangs we can't, trust me on this un, thar pardnar. Tim tossed the diary on the dash, climbed in and he and Totem rode back to the Green Street base in relative silence. Nothing but the occasional chatter from the police band radio filled the interior of the Hummer. ............ When they arrived Tim immediately started to look for Yelena and Shawn, seeing Yelena in the common room he said "Yelena, find Shawn were gonna need them thar eyes a his." Tim's face was dark, his jaw set, his eyes as dark and cold as an Antartic night. ..... Stopping by his room, he picked up a sawed off 12 gauge pump riot gun and loaded it with law enforcement issue "shreader" shells. Carrying it at his side, Tim returned to the common room, seeing Torril and the Bronze Devil he asked ... "Ya all got a medical bag? Oh ya I'm gonna need a body bag ifin' ya' all got one. Ifin' ya ain', a couple a trash bags 'll work. I gots some trash ta take out." he said coldly then sat on a metal chair staring at the door, the sawed off shotgun laying across his lap, coiled like a Texas rattlesnake ready to strike.

Zoe paused silently outside of Sigma's door, her interest piqued by the discussion of getting into RAID's systems. When Sigma mentioned the lapse in time before he would be able to access it again, she knocked lightly on the door. After being told to enter, Killswitch slipped inside and looked coldly at the three men.

"If you need to get into RAID's system a little quicker," she said, "you realize I can do this with the same level of precaution and no time limit." She cocked an eyebrow at Sigma for a moment before lighting a cigarette and looking expectantly at the two men. When the Bronze Devil vigorously agreed, the young woman merely motioned for him to follow with one subtle motion of her head before turning and slipping out of Sigma's office headed for her own in the hidden crevice of the basement.

On the way, they ran into Yelena who asked if they'd seen Shawn. Killswitch merely shook her head and kept her thoughts of a tracking device to herself. In a labyrinth like this, it was going to be quite a challenge finding a quiet loner who couldn't hear them calling for him. As she descended into the basement, she deftly tapped some ash into the ashtray on a desk as she passed before sitting down in front of a monitor. Leaning back in the chair, she puffed nonchalantly on her cigarette as windows and text began to fly across the monitor at an indecipherable rate.

"It'll take a minute," she said finally in her monotone voice, "I can't be rash when getting into a system run by people who hunt metas for a living. I'm going the safe route." Slow, however, in Zoe's world, was about equal to that of the average computer geek as in a matter of minutes, windows began to pop up and overlap one another containing information on John McManus. When she'd pulled up every record she could find, Zoe peeked up at the large Bronze Devil and said flatly "have at it."
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Shawn had tucked himself away in a tight corner not far from a flight of stairs. It was a spot he had begun favoring as it was a small little nook just big enough for his somewhat stocky form and whatever he had brought with him, which today was one of Nietzche's books. The man's immortal words of power and greatness flowed through the young man's fingertips as though he were absorbing the philosopher's thoughts through some untapped power of his own.

It wasn't that he felt useless or ignored-- on the contrary, Yelena and Ayana checked on him quite regularly and Kekoa had shown some odd fascination in his books-- it was simply that he was accustomed to and very much preferred to be alone, something he was finding to be somewhat incompatible with his new life. When Yelena and Tim would stumble upon him, his head would be down, low enough such that he would look more like he was sleeping than reading, his stringy brown hair over his face and his hand running in perfect lines across the page. They needed only to ascend the stairs however for Shawn to catch their scent, raising his head, his empty eyes staring without focus just slightly past them.

He looked up expectantly, not bothering to close his book as he figured they were simply making sure he didn't get lost or needed something, a somewhat annoying habit but one which he didn't mind since their intentions were in the right place. His head swayed between them as Tim and Yelena knelt on either side of him and Yelena typed on his device, her words immediately soaking into him through his fingertips.

"We need your eyes," she said. Shawn furrowed his brow, surprised at this unexpected message. The idea that he would finally be useful again washed over him in a wave that he didn't dare let on. Gently closing his book, the young man got to his feet and slipped the book into his messenger bag before raising his hands to sign what he spoke.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Morgan's in trouble. We need find her," Yelena replied. There was a split second in which Shawn seemed to consider it. He lowered his hands however and simply said "okay," before following them out to Tim's car. Tim smelled of gunpowder and rage. This was sure to be interesting.
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As Tim, Yelena, and Shawn headed towards the car, they passed by Totem and Ayana, who reached out a hand to Tim.

"Hey!" she said, "Totem told me what happened. Let me come along, or at least help. Kekoa and I can be, if nothing else, an extra set of eyes and hands. I don't know what he meant when he said Demon can see things we can't, but I believe in strength in numbers."

"Shur 'nough, climb on in." Tim said coldly as he opened the driver's side door of the Hummer, slipped the sawed off shotgun, muzzel down between his seat and the console, then climbed in. He buckled his seat belt, and started the Hummer. "Ya'all buckle up now." Tim's words were short and to the point, as if he were giving commands to a S.W.A.T. team.

The police band radio began its spuradic transmission of police codes, the GPS display illuminated and the emergency broadcast scanner emitted and occasional code. Tim placed the secure link radio ear piece in his ear so he could hear any messages from Zoe.

Bronze Devil, wasn't exactly sure what do, computers weren't exactly his thing. Not wanting to become a stereo-type, he simply stood staring blankly at the screen, that's when Sigma moved smoothly into the control room and brushed by the big meta, his head shaking. He jumped into the seat and started sifting through the RAID network, of which he was completely familiar.

Sigma glanced over at Killswitch then back to the screen, his face emotionless. It was going to take some time getting used to a new controller and Silicone had described her 'cyber-kinetic' powers a while ago. A neat trick, but kind of exclusive. Sigma needed to be able to access data when he required it, and didn't want to have to wait to be accommodated into someone else's schedule. He didn't like being spied on either and later, Sigma figured he'd have a little chat with the new controller about her sneaking around his office.

John McMannus' name was highly classified, and Sigma had to dig into his arsenal of passwords to crack the locks. He supposed he could have gotten, Killswitch to bypass them, but he wasn't used to asking, just people doing and so far she hadn't done a lot by his book.




When Toril ran into Cowboy in the common area he asked if he knew a John McMannus, but it seemed he had more important things on his mind and before he knew it, he, Totem and other resistance members had headed into the long underground corridor that lead to the vehicle storage area. Yelena seemed preoccupied too and so with Bronze Devil and Sigma busy, Wraith decided to tag along with the search party. He dropped his wallet and cell phone off in Sigma's office and faded into his wind form.

Flying invisibly, he followed Cowboy's hummer and decided he keep on eye on he, Totem and Yelena just incase they needed some back-up. It was the first time in a while that Wraith had actually headed out in the day in full costume and knew that it was imperative that he remained invisible. A costumed super-hero in Chicago, or anywhere for that matter was a target and he had to be careful not to attract any attention to the group. He would only materialize if it was absolutely necessary, until then he would be the wind.

(Friday, May 22, 6:30 pm)

Supervising Agent Birkshire accepted the cup of coffee that one of his men offered. "Thank you.", he said, took a sip then continued watching through one of the high powered scopes that were set up all through the top level of a vacant warehouse. "Are all units in position?" he asked his surveillance officer who was sitting behind him in front of desk laden with computers and monitors.

"All units on standby, Mr. Birkshire. Operation Sandman is live." Replied the surveillance specialist.

Birkshire nodded and continued to watch the thermal images of Frank Shepherd as he tortured his daughter. "They'll be coming along shortly." he assumed. knowing all to well that Cowboy wouldn't let his girlfriend die at the hands of her father. Sure was taking his sweet time though, the girl was need some serious professional help after this ordeal. That is if she made it.

RAID had started Sandman, the moment Birkshire started working with Hunter, a.k.a, Frank Shepherd. They knew that they could take advantage of the relationship between Cowboy and the operative's daughter and now their patience had paid off.

Frank had been bugged from the start, and they had known his location at all times and since his first scouting of his 'killing-ground', RAID agents had set up a perimeter in order trap Morgan Shepherd's rescuers. The entire area had been fortified and any meta's that went into the abandoned warehouse weren't coming out and there were only a few alley ways that could act as escape routes and the agents had them covered. It had been painstaking operation, all communication has been secured and RAID had gone to incredible lengths to make sure that they were unseen. They had also employed the use of 'psy-wave scrambling devices' to prevent clairvoyants and telepaths from detecting their presence and even though everything seemed to be going smoothly Birkshire had taken other precautions as well to ensure that these resistance fighters were captured and put away for good.

(undisclosed time)

John's head was pounding as he opened his eyes and sat up in the RAID vehicle. There were no windows, so no way to tell where they were heading. The truck was traveling fast, it turned here and there and ran a siren a few times. John guessed that they were running the squealing sirens to pass through red lights and busy intersections.

Although John enjoyed making things hard for the RAID goons, he was sick of wearing the hospital gown style clothes they gave him and tired as hell of being without his leg and hand.

The mechanic looked down at his clothing, a hospital scrubs style shirt and some scratchy generic boxer shorts that barely covered his personal bits. Over those he had some baggy pajama style bottoms that were many sizes too small for the big man. To add insult to injury they did not give him any kind of shoes, not even a singular flip-flop.

This shit is undignified... The hero grumbled as he looked at the pants, torn from the scrap with the RAID agents.

A rush of blood flowed to the mechanic's face as he decided that when these RAID mutts opened this vehicle to retrieve him, he was gonna go at them again, and again and again.

Outside of that solid bit of planning John hoped that they would transport him to a more relaxed facility, he hoped to have a chance to break loose and get back to street level and find his friends. At the very least he hoped to force an opportunity to get his mech limbs back. Just one small moment, that's all he needed. All he needed was to fight his way through two dozen RAID troopers armed like it was D Day, maneuver through a vast, unfamiliar secure facility, sidestep the facilities automated defenses, locate his locked down mech limbs and hit a clearly marked exit. Piece of cake right?

I'm gettin' to old for this... John laughed at the seemingly impossible task before him. John knew that if it was possible to let some of the others know where he was that they might bust him out, they would at least try. RAID had shipped him to Chicago recently, John was not even sure if Cowboy or Yelena knew that, perhaps the mechanic was all on his own.

The big man rocked and bounced with the motion of the speeding vehicle as he pondered his next big move.

Jessica was walking home, relaxed after having spent time in the park with the trees. She was humming a tune, smiling to herself.

Turning on South Green St., she headed for the safehouse. She was lucky in the fact that she looked normal and you couldn't tell that she was meta until she used her ability, controlling plants, trees, vines, etc. They were her best friends and she loved them all. She just wished she could live in the park or out in the country, but there was safety in numbers.

As she walked by the two story abandoned warehouse, she noticed lights shining from out from the small windows.

~That's odd. I thought this place had been abandoned years ago.~, she thought to herself. Shrugging her shoulders, she walked on by, thinking that it may have been bought as some of the old buildings had been in the past.

She kept walking, thinking that she'd mention it once she got back. If the others thought it was important, then they could check it out.