It wasn't long before a large dull grey van pulled up discreetly on the road nearest to the bushes. The van was very muted in color and caked with a thin layer of dust and dirt, as though its owners had not washed it in a while and did not consider the vehicle's hygiene a very important priority. It was a little banged up, the odd small scuff, scratch, or dent, but nothing too large or notable. In other words, it was completely inconspicuous. Anyone who saw it would likely forget about it before the day was out.
The other rangers were still busy tended to themselves and the damaged ranger HQ, as well as distracted fending off the odd Omni foolish or desperate enough to trek back for a second futile attack. They didn't notice the van, nor the four men dressed in white overalls and dull blue button-up t-shirts, their faces obscured by grayed ball caps and dark sunglasses, who piled out of the back of it with a stretcher. They would even guess that these men all wore face masks, white surgical gloves, and white aprons, all of which much cleaner than their method of transportation would leave one to believe.
Keenan recalled his team, conjuring them back into their balls, and waved them over to the bushes, and thanked the other trainer again for his help. The four men, with great care and caution, brought Ren onto the stretcher, and with equal carefulness loaded her into the back of the van. All the while, Keenan stayed with her, reassuring her that these people were friends and that they would help her- regardless of whether her cawing Altaria, now silenced by another man who emerged from the driver's seat and forced the bird into the back with its trainer, was willing to co-operate or not.
Keenan stayed in the back with Ren as one of the men, who took a few minutes to sanitize himself and ready medical supplies, prepared to operate on her wound. Before he put her out, however, he allowed Keenan a moment to give her one last reassurance; "All of this will be over soon."
