---

Atlas pressed his digits further into his comm piece to hear Gale over the odd static that was rolling through the dedicated line. Nothing was supposed to be giving interference. “Understood,” he remarked calmly and altered his trajectory. If they could secure Dr. Fleche there would be minor concern on who they opened fire on in the warehouse. The terrorists would lose their bargaining chip, and it should be a painfully quick mission. Yet there was something that didn’t sit quite right with Atlas. “Agent Cross are we supposed to be getting any interference? I’m catching moments of static. These are dedicated lines- nothing should be able to jam our line unless they know the frequency. Right?” He was far from a technology expert, but he did remember a few things that had been explicitly drilled into his head from Signet. “They would only be hurting themselves in they spam jammed the comm units.” That second part was more or less a mental reminder to himself than an informative statement to Gale- she was probably very well aware of what it would do.

Gabriel popped in momentarily to offer a plan to Atlas- one that would hopefully give him a window to Dr. Fleche. “Sounds good. I’ll be at the ready.” Of course that involved him having the good doctor on standby- which inevitably meant that he needed to make contact with the other man. Atlas approached the other’s position. He was able to hear them before he saw the man. Slowly he slid down the corridor, and padded his steps all the while so wasn’t detected. When he managed to make eye contact with Dr. Fleche he brought a finger up to his lips in the universal ‘shh’ motion. The man just stared at Atlas wide-eyed almost as if he was attempting to communicate a thought without words or gestures. That pale gray eye implored Dr. Fleche to expand on the terror in his eyes, but there was only a stunned rigidity to his face.
“Gabriel,” Atlas stated in a husky low voice. He hated to be so informal, but he was quite literally in a jam here. Yet as he was greeted with nothing but silence he had to decide what to do. ‘Not a very brilliant A-Team moment right now.’ He thought somewhat stormily. That gray eye of his pressed against Dr. Fleche once again but the man just stood there. It wasn’t as if he was being uncooperative- it was more so as if he had a gun to his head.

And that is when Atlas saw it. Of course the doctor’s captor was more interested in what the others were doing, but the agent had no doubt that he was a mere muscle spasm away from pressing down on the trigger and blowing a hole through Dr. Fleche’s head. Atlas knew he couldn’t fire at the man for fear of hitting Dr. Fleche, and he couldn’t approach them more closely for fear of the man using the doctor as a meat shield. While the mission had stated that the doctor’s life was more or less expendable- Atlas at least wanted to offer somewhat of a decent attempt.
Atlas grabbed his gun and whipped it forward. In a brash move he yelled: “duck.” And the doctor did so. His intended captor jerked his head around in enough time to get a bullet between his eyes. Of course this unfortunately alerted those at the computer. The doctor managed to crawl briskly over to Atlas where he pointed behind him. “The way is clear behind me. Hurry outside- we should have a Signet member waiting for you.” It was then he pressed his hand into his earpiece as he took cover. “Dr. Fleche is headed your way Agent Cross, but I may have alerted them to my presence. I’m going to try to take them down as quick as possible, but backup would be much appreciated.” There was another squeal in his earpiece and he hoped that someone got that message.

Gabriel had heard Atlas all too well, but was in no position to answer. He just hoped it wasn’t urgent, but given the nature of their mission, it probably was. As he tried to turn around slightly, he immediately felt the pressure of the gun increase.
“No, no, no Larry. You keep perfectly still,” the woman continued to speak, “so, you’re ‘catering’ eh? Tell me, how do your brains taste? Because they’re pretty close to being blown out of your he-“ she stopped talking when a gunshot echoed across the Ark. The pressure at the back of his head decreased. Gabriel decided this was the best chance he was going to get and turned around, grabbing both wrists of the woman and pushing her against a crate. He kicked her in the stomach with his knee before releasing his hold and grabbing her head with both of his hands.

“I could use my powers on you, but this is so much more fun,” he whispered as he studied her face. She was easy on the eye, he intended to change that before she caught her breath. He slammed her head first into the crate, repeating the process until the gun slid from her hand. He then dropped her and picked up the weapon. He surveyed it quickly and then noticed the safety was still on. Not only were these people clearly deranged, they were also amateurs.

His musings were disturbed by Atlas. This time he did respond as he checked the gun.
“You got Fleche? I don’t know how you did it, but good job, I’ll be with you momentarily. I had a slight problem, but it’s resolved now,” Gabriel muttered as he ran from behind the crates, coming eye to eye with the woman who had been searching through the crates before. He had completely forgotten about her. Luckily for him, she was even more taken aback. He raised the gun and shot her in the chest twice. Without making as much as a sound, she dropped to the ground.

Gabriel heard numerous shouts coming from nearby and slid closer. He saw numerous terrorists looking around fervently. One of them wasn’t, as he was clearly dead. So much for subtlety.
“You think you might have alerted them?” he snapped into his earpiece, “I’m pretty sure they are alerted. Ah well, there’s nothing we can do about that now. Here we go,” he took the smoke grenade and hurled it at the group. As the smoke started to spread he fired the gun at them, trying to avoid hitting anything important. After a couple of shots it was out of ammo. He quickly tossed it aside, drew his own gun and decided to move up to a new position. As he leaned against the crate he searched for Rachel. According to Ignatius she had been near the southern entrance. No doubt she’d get here soon. He took a deep breath, if she showed up he would have to confront her. He just hoped most of the other terrorists had been dealt with by them. It was rather difficult to defeat a fellow puppeteer when the bullets were flying across the room.

Felix looked up as the ticker changed in front of him, revealing that Porter and Celero had succeeded. Standing up, he whispered into his comm. "Mission success. Everyone get out of here-"...the sentence was ended with a slight oof. Felix looked up to see that he hand ran into someone, a burly security guard. "Hey, watch it!" He said, but stopped when he saw that Keith's face was...flickering. The HIDE was now disturbed, and was giving out to reveal Felix underneath. "Security, we've got a live one!" The guard uttered into his radio, but Felix simply turned the HIDE off and looked at him. The Network leader simply raised one hand and said one command.

"Down, boy." Felix ordered before using his Elemental power to bring a section of ceiling down on the guard, causing a chair from the floor above to drop on him and knock him out cold. "They found me, get ready for some fun, boys and girls." He advised, but he knew they should escape. A black van rolled in front and released four more guards, in addition to the three in front of Felix. They came from the back of the office. The workers were all cowering under desks and praying that the terrorist didn't kill them.

Felix picked the chair up off the downed guard, and set it down. He then took a seat. "You're under arrest! Get on your knees!" One guard ordered. "Oh, come now. Do you seriously think I'd get these nice pants dirty? I'd much rather sit here." Felix rose his hands, and his seat began to float. It was a little strenuous, but in the moment of fear the guards had, Felix had enough time to coalesce a little psionic energy in his palm. Felix wasted no time, and sent this little bullet straight into the heart of the biggest guard, knocking him down. "Fire!" The other ordered, and like some bad fantasy vid, Felix soared through the air using the last bit of energy he had.

He landed behind the desks, where bullets began firing. Thankfully, the desks were lined with metal, in case of armed robbery, so the workers could take shelter. Felix's head pounded, the small act of forcing the psionic energy draining him for a moment. "Could you guys shut them up? My head needs a second to recuperate." Felix asked the entirety of his team.

---

---

---

---

The situation was quickly escalating, it seemed. Gabriel had been discovered, if what she could hear over his signal about catering was any guess. She supposed if you could control minds, you didn’t have to worry too much about coming up with plausible excuses, but that was a new one, and she might have found it funny if anything about this situation was funny at all. She was swapping cameras when Ignatius came in over the communications link, announcing that he’d found Dwyer. Immediately, Selena split her screen and brought up the nearest camera there as well.

It was about this time that the static interference began. She wasn’t sure what was causing it, and as Atlas correctly pointed out, that was a problem. This was a unique frequency, dedicated to them and this operation—nothing should be interfering with it. Selena typed quickly, trying to determine if something the group was doing at their computer was creating a universal jamming, but they were still only looking at data, trying to find whatever they really wanted here, and a signal jam would also interfere with their communication, so someone was targeting this exact frequency… probably remotely.

In that moment, a message popped up on her screen, entirely unbidden on her part.

From: The Hanged Man
Re: Signet Operatives

Who the hell was in her systems? From the outside, this server was supposed to look like it belonged to a moderately successful architectural firm—she’d even saved design portfolios and business accounts under the first layer of defense! The only way anyone could possibly know what it was was if they accessed remotely from… the field office.

Okay, Selena, one thing at a time. She managed to reduce the static enough to still be heard, then spoke. “I am not the commander of this team, Mr. Serafino, but if you are asking for my advice, I suggest that if you plan on confronting her, you do so whilst you can still catch her unawares.” She may be the team’s information analyst and occasionally its eye in the sky, but she didn’t run it. That was his job.

And the damn signal was still acting up. Banishing the message from ‘The Hanged Man’ for now, she sighed, to herself and thankfully not through the link. So many things could go wrong on an operation, and this was beginning to look like one of those times when everything unfortunate converged at once. “No, it shouldn’t be this problematic. I’m working on it,” she told Atlas neutrally, but then one of the cameras on her screen drew her attention—the one with him on it, actually.

She nearly choked, eyes wide. Must you, truly? She internally asked him, though of course, the thought was semi-professional at best and wouldn’t make it to the comm linkup. She had standards to maintain, after all, and personal feelings of frustration and concern did not make it into the official mission recordings. Even if nobody would ever listen to it.

Reckless or not, the move secured them Dr. Fleche, and she couldn’t argue too much with that. There was a frantic pounding on the back of the van, and she swung the door open, pulling the good doctor inside and shutting it thereafter. “Confirmed. I have Dr. Fleche. Gentlemen, if you find it tactically preferable to bring this out into the open, please do. The fewer of the objects inside that building we destroy, the better.” Gale reached down below herself to a small box, pulling from it a pistol and a clip of ammunition, which she slid home with a decisive click. They’d just given up the game, and she was going to be much more valuable on the ground than here in this van quite soon, especially since the comms were on the fritz.

And then, through the static, there was confirmation from Gabriel. More gunshots, and a lot of movement on the cameras.

It was then that they all lost communication signal entirely.

“Dr. Fleche,” Selena said calmly, sliding on a black Kevlar vest, unmarked, of course. “I’m Selena Cross—”

“I know who you are,” the old man said, raising a silvered eyebrow. From the significance of the look he gave her, he also knew that she wasn’t who she said she was, and she wondered just how he’d come by that information. Regardless, there wasn’t time.

“I’m going to go in there and help my agents. I request that you stay here, and if things get much worse, I want you to take this van and drive it away. Your safety is paramount to us, and we will do everything we can to preserve the Ark, but you must not linger if matters go south. Do you understand?” He nodded, and she smiled reassuringly, opening the back door of the tactical van. “Thank you. I suggest you take the drivers’ seat, just in case.” Taking the safety off her pistol, she closed the van door behind her and set off for the nearest entrance. She wasn’t the best shot, but she’d passed her marksman’s exam, and it was really just secondary to her Elemental powers, anyway.

---

---

"Please remain calm," said a soothing, clinical voice from the server room intercom as a warning klaxon blared overhead. "An emergency situation has occurred. The building is currently on lockdown. Our security personnel is currently working to ensure your safety. Do not leave your workstations and follow lockdown procedures. The situation will be resolved shortly. Please remain calm. An emergency...."

Porter frowned. Complications. He tapped the small red X on his current Terminal window and accessed the Signet security system. Outside the server room, a security nodule hidden in the ceiling popped out and began tracing the hallway. Just outside, Operative Cell eyed the now roused guards at the far end of the hallway and made for the door. Porter glanced quickly over his shoulder as she crept inside with him. He could see panic beginning to worm its way into the operative. Her gaze darted quickly from him to the door, wide-eyed with fear. She seemed to vibrate with tense energy and she leaned against a server tower by the left side of the doors, just out of the doorway line of sight. Porter crouched low and moved behind the server tower opposite to Cell. He looked back at the holographic video feed.

On the first floor, Felix Grelen was floating in a chair. Porter pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to three before releasing a heavy sigh. Stealth mission. Of course. The leader of the Network floated past a few stunned guards (who should have been filling him with holes instead of watching him in disbelief) and landed behind an overturned office desk after incapacitating a guard with a psionic projectile. His security armor registered his quickly dwindling vital statistics, noting a single puncture through the right ventricle of his heart. He was flatlining as he fell. He was unconscious in four seconds. In seven seconds he was listed as KIA. Terrorist Response Team Officer, Naseer Ayad, 32, bomb disposal experience and current American Lev-Trans Association member in good standing. Survived by sister, Hafsah Ayad, 34, risk management.

He switched his monitor to his current floor. The three security guards stood at attention with weapons drawn. Securitas brand name kinetics, a reliable if aesthetically unappealing manufacturer in Porter's honest opinion. The woman by the door hefted drew a Viktor series semi-automatic rifle and kept watch of the elevator. Two of them equipped with wide-spread kinetic firearms (the archaic shotgun had survived through the centuries in everything but name) moved down the hallway, checking side rooms and guiding frightened staff to a safe room just beside the elevator.

"What's the plan," Cell mouthed to Porter from across the doorway. "Do we hide or do we fight?" Porter turned the options over in his head. Hallway, three guards between current location and elevator. Side rooms full of staff. Alarm raised. Alarm is sound system controlled. Porter nodded once before looking up at Cell.

"Follow my lead." He slowly reached into the waistband of his service uniform and pulled out his telescoping stun baton. On the holographic video feed, the two searching guards positioned themselves just outside the server room door, one giving the other a countdown. In a flash of fingers, Porter pulled up an audio file on his Terminal. He set it to play over the speakers in the room to the right of the server room. A series of loud thump came from behind the closed door of a Mr. Carson Mikado. The two guards instantly wheeled around on the noise. They slowly approached the door and kicked it down, guns drawn. Inside they found Mr. Mikado who was busy trying to send a SigTweet regarding the emergency situation in his office building and the two personnel who were currently telling him to stand up with his hands on his head while they patted him down.

They did not see nor hear the the service technician or the secretary slipping out of the server room past Mr. Mikado's door. They were unaware of the service technician quickly typing up false security ping, ordering the third security guard at the elevator to abandon post and proceed to the fourth floor through the elevator to take care of the security threat endangering property and civilian life. The security guards also returned too late to see the service technician quickly reopen the elevator doors. They certainly did not see the service technician and secretary jump on top of the elevator roof as it descended, with the secretary dampening the sound of their landing to soft tap. Nor did she realize that the security cameras in the elevator were aimed squarely at the wall. As the elevator doors closed behind her, the guard arriving on the fourth floor didn't notice the air-elemental secretary opening the elevator roof hatch with a sound-muffled click. No one saw the service technician and the secretary go through the hatch into the elevator as it opened up to the first floor.

No one saw aynything at all.

An uncharacteristically fiendish grin slid it's way across Zane Hendricks's face. An unwitting co-worker tilted his head in confusion. "Umm... Mr. Hendricks..." The dim-witted moron stuttered, completely unaware as to his own immediate danger. Zane stood, hands slamming down on the table; a spider's web of cracks danced to life, skittering across the tabletop. "Hear that? No more playing nice. Bossman's given the all clear. Gimme two seconds, I'll have every guard in this place focused on something much more... pressing." Zane spoke, though apparently to no one. When the increasingly dull office worker stepped close to "Zane", shortening his life span astronomically, Vasska's animal instincts took over. Zane Hendricks roared, a mighty bellow shaking the lounge in which he stood. His maw seemed to stretch unnaturally, as if some sort of beast lay hidden underneath the office worker's skin. As the foolish man, who was now far too close for Vasska's comfort, tried to run, the smell of sweat and fear clinging to him like a thick coat, Vasska swatted at him. The back of "Zane's" hand caught him under the chin and sent him rocketing through the air and out the nearest third story window. Several other office workers tried to detain the seemingly crazy and berserking "Zane", but they met similar fates. One hung from the ceiling tiles, his shoulders and down were all that was visible. He appeared quite stuck. Another was sent through several cubicles. He didn't get up. Another still was shoved into a garbage can and mercilessly kicked down a long hallway that ended in several flights of stairs. Soon, every guard on the premises was headed to "Zane's" location. Vasska made sure that he was even more of a menace than Felix could ever be. There was no way that Felix was getting left behind, not if Vasska had something to say about it.

Vasska took this lovely opportunity to smash as many important looking computers and devices as he could, making his way down to the main lobby where he had more exits and his opponents had less room to contain him. While he rampaged, Vasska didn't focus too much on making his attacks stronger or faster, instead, he was growing tired of the horrendous itching that the HIDE collar was causing. So, doing the only thing he knew how, Vasska, "filled in" the mold created by the HIDE's display, allowing his face to naturally form an accurate likeness of Zane Hendricks. Only close relatives, extremely close, or attentive co-workers, and spouses would be capable of noticing the minute details Vasska missed. Though he was a beast, in every sense of the word, Vasska was no idiot. He knew the hide could die at any moment, and that keeping it in one piece was a priority, so as he ran to the lobby, causing as much mayhem as he could, Vasska removed the HIDE and hid it in one of his jacket pockets. Finally, that taken care of, Vasska took the final turn and found himself down in the lobby where he'd walked in that morning. He had no knowledge or memory of the place's layout and how it was organized, structurally or otherwise, Vasska was just following his nose. When he reached the main lobby, Vasska roared once again, stretching his vocal chords, expanding his lungs, and allowing a massively loud bellow to echo throughout the building. People didn't know what was happening, but their instincts told them all they needed to know. There was something strange about Zane Hendricks. It was a primal feeling, something they couldn't explain. All they could recognize was that he was dangerous. The prey viewed their predator with eyes full of fear. People froze in their tracks simply hoping, praying, that "Zane" would let them be. The fear coated their bodies like sweat, dripping to the floor and filling the room with its stench. I was an instinctive fear.

Soon, black shirted, muscle bound men stormed the room. They weren't professional hitmen, they weren't even armed. They were most likely bouncers. Rent-a-cops armed only with their fists and with the intimidation such measly weapons provided. Vasska smirked. It was like Signet was just sending sacrificial lambs to him now. "Think you boys can wear me out?" Vasska taunted, it was oddly sickening coming out of "Zane's" mouth. "You won't even be enough to make me sweat." The predator challenged, stepping forward and causing the herd of worthless men to flinch backward instinctively. Vasska cracked his knuckles. "Who's first?" He asked, a wicked grin on his face. What was about to happen next could only be described as the single biggest kerfuffle in military/police policy in dealing with powerful rogue elementals.