Seated within the modest confines afforded to him by the current means of transportation Zephyr eyes wandered to the darkened skyline behind the vehicles tinted glass, mentally tracing the silhouettes of the numerous buildings which created the glowing cityscape in the distance. Ever so gradually the pinpricks of light were growing larger as the van neared its location and idly Zephyr how much distance remained between his current position and his final destination. It was only passing musing though and as such the thought was easily discarded when the elementals cobalt gaze returned to the folded paper atop his lap, specifically the completed crossword and trivial grid of numbers on the back pages. Despite their self proclaimed “expert” difficulty setting the two puzzles had only managed to distract the mercenary for just shy of thirty minutes and the majority of that had been due to his lack of familiarity with the strange math game, which he still deemed nothing more than a mere children’s exercise.

Releasing a blasé sigh Simon resigned himself to at least an hour’s worth of tedium until the coach concluded its journey, it could be worse he supposed; at least there were no wailing infants or puerile youths causing a clamor, though at this point they would almost have been a welcome distraction. Closing his eyes and leaning against the headrest of his seat the elemental cast his thoughts back as he recalled the purpose behind this rather dull voyage.

As his current situation should have professed his journey was one of pleasure rather than business, had the kabal member any say in his method of transportation he would have chosen his motorbike without hesitation. Sadly though his parasitic employer had not wanted his presence to attract any unusual attention and as the elementals driving habits were anything but subtle Antonescue’s people had arranged a ticket for him to travel on one of the many greyhound coaches scattered around the country; simply another college student returning home for the thanksgiving break. The brainless bureaucrats had even prepared a duffle bag for him, though its weight was so cumbersome that the mercenary would have been hard put to carry it had the container not come with wheels.

Returning to the point at hand though, the reason he was currently en route to Boston was due to some piece of intelligence the Kabal leader had managed to come across concerning a small biochemical company owned by the government. The facility had apparently managed to obtain some highly noted personnel in the field of biochemical engineering under some rather odd circumstances and so the bloodsucker had dispatched the hazel haired mercenary to investigate and see what he could find. As was Antonescue’s recent trend though Zephyr had been paired with another member of the Kabal; a new recruit under the alias of Vagabond who was apparently more skilled in the realms of stealth and reconnaissance than the elemental himself. In either case the two of them had had little time to become acquainted; due mainly to the asinine administrators at labs arranging for separate means of transportation. Admittedly Simon wasn’t the most social of individuals, however he would have appreciated the chance to at least learn the older man’s mutation in order to have some idea of what he was working with. As it was he was having to make do with what little information had been provided in the briefing, still there was no point in dwelling on the issue, he would reconvene with his partner in a few hours and settle the subject then if necessary, for the time being he simply had to find something to distract him from his current sense of ennui.

Opening his eyes once more the mercenary lowered his gaze to the publication still resting in his lap, without a word the hazel haired youth stripped away a sheet from the main body of the newspaper, staring at it silently for a moment before his hands went to work; deftly folding and creasing the page as worked to construct the image in his mind.

Precisely two hours and fifteen minutes later Simon took his leave of the coach as it at last pulled into its final stop. After taking a moment to collect his luggage from the storage compartment the elemental wandered to the nearest street light before consulting with the map he’d been given and confirming the directions to the rendezvous point, with that accomplished the kabal member shifted his suitcase and made his way towards what was, in essence, the cities commercial district. Despite the late night the streets were far from deserted and the city’s populace wandered back and forth around the sheer structures of metal and glass which towered into the clouded night sky, vehicles of various construction raced through the narrow roads filling the air with the low roar of motors and the screech of hastily applied brakes. No one had time for anyone other than themselves and as such the elemental was able to proceed without delay to one of the few establishments offering residential services. After a brief conversation with the hotels receptionist a cash transaction was made to secure a key card which, after a brief excursion through dimly lit hallways, gave the merc access to a room on the top floor of the structure.

Approximately twenty minutes after he had taken possession of the room Zephyr could be found waiting atop of the roof of his current abode. Leaning against a nearby cooling unit with his hands in his pockets and one leg crossed atop the other, the elementals position was one of nonchalance and it was all to clear he waiting for someone.

Roland looked out the window as the plane circled Logan International. It had been an uneventful flight to Boston. The first class section was fairly thin in terms of population, having upgraded the coach ticket the company had given him. He hadn't been on coach in some time, unless he was supposed to be on coach. He had spent the better part of the trip looking over the documents he had requested prior to leaving. Structural plans of the small company's building, the other suites in the building, city street maps that he had highlighted routes on as possible escape paths. Roland knew there were many situations that had to be dealt with as they came, spontaneously. For all other things, plans and details were key to him, even if they seemed either frivolous or paranoid.

Once the plane had landed and Roland was in the airport, he made his way through the security detail. The screeners looked him over, but didn't pull him from line. He placed his briefcase on the conveyor belt and stepped through the metal detector. A small ping and the emptying of missed pocket change later and he was on his way. His gear would be delivered the next morning via the company, to avoid any hangups. It felt especially satisfying to appear so legitimate when there would be so much to do later of the illicit variety. He hailed a taxi and gave directions to the hotel where he would be staying.

As the taxi rolled through the streets, the cabbie did the normal bit of shallow digging at his agendas. He answered politely with various lies about conventions. He looked out the window at the passing scenery, his mind trailing off to Nehanda. She had left town on business, so it made it easier for Roland to go as well. he would go regardless, but having her be away made it easier. He also thought of Melissa and her position of being his superior. It made for interesting possibilities. Next stop, his teammate in this endeavor. A young guy, but going by what little he had heard, he had the eyes and mind of a hardened merc. Merc types were random in their views and ethics. He knew little about the young man's abilities, though several things came to mind with the code name he was given. Zephyr.

The cab eased up to the curb in front of the hotel. Roland paid the man and entered the lobby. The doorman greeted him and opened the door. The wind was furious and bitter. He nodded to the greeter and entered the lobby, which was warm and rather stately. Roland stepped up to the counter and met the man behind the desk. He provided his false credentials. Ronald Turpit, Sales Consultant. The clerk mentioned a jewelry convention in the area, which Roland agreed with. It sounded good enough. He asked if his associate, Johnathon Stone, had checked in yet. It took a brief exchange of too much cash given with no change accepted to find he was on the top floor. Roland arranged having his own suite moved to be on that floor as well.

A few moments and an elevator ascent later, Roland had freshened up and poured himself a small drink from the minibar. Once that was in his system, he locked up and headed down to the room in question. A few knocks and some waiting passed before Roland decided to look elsewhere. Somewhere out of the way and quiet on the top of the building. Roland accessed the roof stairwell and arrived at the door leading out to the roof proper.

A young man was standing there, with hazel hair and a look of determination on his face. Roland looked around the rooftop, out of general habit to survey and observe. He stepped a few steps closer and announced himself. " Johnathon Stone? Ronald Turpit." He was sure it was him, but best to give the aliases a run before shaking hands and getting to business.

Across the night sky stars danced in and out of view as thunderous clouds soared across the upper atmosphere propelled by bitter surging winds whose influence extended from heavens to the very streets of the city. Far below the elementals position pedestrians battled bitter gales, gradually gaining ground on their intended destination as they hunched their backs and crossed their arms against the gelid currents. Zephyr however seemed oblivious to the adverse conditions surrounding him for he graced the night air garbed in little more than jeans and a light weather jacket, yet his features showed no sign of discomfort. While such a scene may initially seem perplexing to a simple passerby a more observant onlooker would perhaps note that, against all logic, the air streams contiguous to the elementals position were curiously calm, almost to the point of being immobility and practically silent, thus allowing the rooftop to retain residual heat rather than relinquishing it to the night air.

To any who were aware of Zephyr’s capabilities such an exposition could be interpreted as nothing more than a means of adapting his environment to increase his own comfort, and indeed part of that was true. However, that was not the mercenary’s only intention; by allowing his influence to merge with the air and inducing it into an unnatural state of quiescence Simon’s awareness of his surroundings increased tenfold, he could distinguish each and every object which fought against the barrier he had crafted along the roofs perimeter as well as perceive each item within his own personal atmosphere. Consequently, when his self constructed haven was intruded upon by another Simon became aware of the others presence immediately and his azure eye flickered towards the unannounced, yet expected, visitor.

”Johnathon Stone? Ronald Turpit”[/color]

An idle nod of confirmation was given to the blond businessman in response to his query before the elemental turned to fully face his fellow Kabal member, for only one associated with Mondragon labs would have known the soubriquet of Jonothan Stone, and the alias of Ronald Turpit was one Zephyr had been informed of moments prior to his departure. ‘And so the players arrive’ the merc mused as he absentmindedly measured his associate; the man was roughly the same height as himself and even possessed a comparable build, however that was where the similarities ended. A simple glance at his partners face showed that the man was easily a decade greater than Simon himself and despite the plain suit which adorned his lithe form it was clear his fellow Kabal member was also superior in terms of physical strength, though considering the elementals physique was rather lacking that truly wasn’t saying much. In either case it was clear that the man before him was far more suited to the clichéd Hollywood style form of stealth than Zephyr himself and thus would hopefully prove useful in procuring their objective.

“Turpit was it? I’m glad you could make it. We can speak freely here so before we head out I would like to confirm that we both know our roles and, if possible, I would like a cursory description of your abilities. I’ll assume you have already grasped the meaning behind my own codename but if not I can expand upon it. ”

The mercenaries words were polite yet the tone he chose to employ was entirely bland, as though he were reading from a script. It was no intended to be condescending, simply straight forward and to the point. He knew almost nothing about the individual before him and it was only logical for him to seek a better understanding of his partners skills, hence why he had asked after the man’s “abilities” and not simply his mutation. For although both were of interest many mutants were often reluctant to detail their powers, thus he had given “Turpit” an invitation to disclose only what he was comfortable with. Had the elemental been given more time to prepare for the assignment he would have had the opportunity to browse the man’s records for himself, however as that was not an option Simon would instead make do with what he could learn from such perfidious pleasantries.

Stepping out onto the rooftop, Roland made a quick survey of the immediate surroundings. All was quiet. Too quiet for a windy rooftop. It was the lack of wind that made him suspicious. Even on a relatively calm day, most rooftops were generally quite breezy, if not blustery. The air here was serene, free of movement. Quiet. There was no doubt that he had found his partner. He saw the young man standing on the rooftop in wait for him.

Once the confirmation was validated with the young man's nod, Roland could tell he was being sized up. He smirked, though only on the inside. It was customary, regardless of tenure or experience, for the agents of a job to feel each other out. This person may very hold your life in their hands at some point, so it was best to find out if they were lacking in a manner or if they were simply a professional. He hoped for the latter, though with the briefing he had received, he felt as if this younger man were actually the senior man in the company's eyes. It was fine with Roland either way.

“Turpit was it? I’m glad you could make it. We can speak freely here so before we head out I would like to confirm that we both know our roles and, if possible, I would like a cursory description of your abilities. I’ll assume you have already grasped the meaning behind my own codename but if not I can expand upon it. ” Straight and to the point. Something that Roland appreciated and respected. " The West wind. I assume you have a great deal of control of air and wind, considering the display here on this roof. As far as roles go, I will generally defer to you, as you have the seniority with the company. As far as my mutation..." Roland reached into his pocket and produced a platinum money clip, bills crisply tucked within. He removed the bills and returned them to his pocket, fingering and displaying the money clip for the other to see. He then threw the clip off of the roof. As it was about to disappear from sight, it was in his fingers again, as if he had never released it." My mutation deals with the teleportation of inorganic materials. I must be able to see the item or it must be within a few containers that I am intimately familiar with."

He caught the cue as to the rest of Zephyr's question. A simple mutation was rarely enough to make it in the company. " As far as what I am capable of, I have spent the better part of my life training my mutation to seamlessly fit with my other skills. Be it procuring items from well defended places, convincing marks to go along with presented material, or tying up loose ends, I have at least 2 decades of experience. I can't imagine that I would slow you down much, though I cannot fly, which I assume you can."

Roland walked closer to the younger man. He could see the hardened look in his eye. He immediately grasped that this one was not going to be a liability, which made the mission more pleasant for all involved. He stepped over to a metallic box, no doubt containing electrical conduits. It was at their waist level, which made it a table. He spread out the structural blueprints he had of the building in which the office was located." Tomorrow, a hardware tech will be making some maintenance checks of the machinery used in the office. I've arranged things with the company so that I will be the tech. I'll be placing some surveillance equipment inside so that we can get the general routines and passwords and the like. This way we don't go in blind. I prefer plans. Speaking of roles, which one shall you play?"

Remaining stationed by the quietly humming cooling device Zephyr’s azure orbs remained fixed on his companion as he listened to the man’s elucidation, nodding appropriately as each detail was revealed or confirmed without embellishment or exaggeration, a rare quality for those in their line of work but one which ensured that this “Turpit” would function professionally. As an added bonus the man also appeared to posses at least a modest intellect correctly referencing the origins of the elementals alias before going on to accurately surmise his talents. That, in addition to the vagrants display of his own mutation easily made the man one of the more dangerous individuals the mercenary had encountered so far however, it was Turpits apparent willingness to follow the Kabals chain of command which swiftly placed him within the upper ranks of the elementals preferred partners. All too often those who exceeded him on years believed they also surpassed him in skill wisdom, and while occasionally he encountered one who bested him in either the former or the latter Zephyr had yet to associate with anyone who could claim to eclipse him on both accounts.

Once Turpit concluded his compendium of his abilities and turned to the mission at hand Simon abandoned his indolent position by the cooling unit and strode towards the metallic cube acting as a makeshift table, directing his gaze towards the blue toned paper which detailed the layout of their targeted building. In truth Zephyr had always disliked the overly complex two dimensional diagrams which architects and engineers alike used to design and designate their creations; they were simply too limited, for no matter how many notes and measurements were placed on the plans they could never be completely relied upon. Construction workers made mistakes, some cut corners or, most commonly, the owner of the building would see to it that certain features were never committed to paper thus hindering the machinations of individual such as himself and Turpit. Still, simply because the elemental disliked blueprints did not mean he was unable to see their uses, in many cases they were the only guidance many had to unfamiliar territory, however they could never be more than a mere guide and so the elemental was pleased that his partner would be able to spend the next learning the layout of the building firsthand. For his own part Zephyr intended to allocate the early morning hours to analyzing the structure of the construct with his own unique senses; examining the currents and displacements of air within the building from afar, it would require him to get somewhat closer than he would like but provided he was subtle the elemental was confident he could perform his own particularly brand of reconnaissance without arousing suspicion.

Rousing himself from his internal machinations as his companion ended his epitome regarding his role in the impending assignment Zephyr lifted from the plans and refocused on the man before him as he recalled his own objectives for the upcoming mission before then relaying them, “My function is mainly one of support, ideally my presence won’t even be needed, however should something happen to go amiss during your reconnaissance or during the mission itself then my task shall be to either create enough of a distraction to allow you to finish your objective or, if such is not possible, to pull both of us out as swiftly as possible. To those ends I shall be visiting several electrical substations in the nearby area and wire them with sufficient explosives to cause a blackout throughout a significant portion of the city, however our target building is likely to have a backup generator somewhere on the premises so the blackout will likely last only a few seconds at best.” While such a minimal window might seem useless to some the fact of the matter was that many cases of subterfuge relied upon such fleeting distractions, and while Zephyr was not overly versed in such matters his opinion of the subject that any advantage attainable was worth having. “In addition, on the night of the mission arrangements have been made for me to enter the building as a new member of security so that I may best deal with any problems which arise.” Allowing a moment’s pause to indicate the end of his explanation the elemental allowed his hands to drift down to his sides and into the pockets of his jacket before speaking for what he hoped would be the last time that night. “Now, unless you have any questions I plan to retire for the evening.”

As Roland pointed out the few details of the blueprint, he made an ote to watch the younger man before him. He knew that he was watching and paying attention and yet there seemed to be an air of boredom. He had probably seen as many blueprints as Roland had, which made them mundane and chore-like. No, it seemed to be something elese. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Of course, considering Zephyr's age and his apparent position within the company, he may just be such a prodigy that most things seemed as less than a challenge for him. The proof would be in the pudding once the job began.

“My function is mainly one of support, ideally my presence won’t even be needed, however should something happen to go amiss during your reconnaissance or during the mission itself then my task shall be to either create enough of a distraction to allow you to finish your objective or, if such is not possible, to pull both of us out as swiftly as possible. To those ends I shall be visiting several electrical substations in the nearby area and wire them with sufficient explosives to cause a blackout throughout a significant portion of the city, however our target building is likely to have a backup generator somewhere on the premises so the blackout will likely last only a few seconds at best.” This seemed to be good news. Multiple distractions, a security guard and even a blackout. This showed Roland the level of professionalism and courtesy of the company. He imagined they could be harsh as well, but only to those who failed missions. He was not a part of that group. He always finished a job, even if he failed secondary objectives. The primary objective had to be completed, regardless of casualty. It was just a point of ethics for him. Who would hire someone who had an average record? Average employers.

Seeing the man was more than prepared to fill in his part of the job, Roland relinquished his speech to him." Very well. I will deliver pertinent information to your room tomorrow afternoon and we can meet once more prior to the actual recovery. Either way, I'd wish you luck, but we don't need luck, do we?" He allowed a small smirk and chuckle to escape his lips. With efficiency and skill resoloved, no reason not to loosen the tie a bit, so to speak.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roland sat in the parking structure, preparing his notes prior to entering the office. He was thorougly impressed with the details provided by the company for this job. Only governments had been able to pull strings and change details to such an extent prior to his current employment. He wondered if he shouldn't visit upper management when he returned from this little suarez. In general, as long as the money kept coming, he was the last to ask questions. However, work of this scale offered a modicum of curiosity. To ignore the scope would be to disrespect it.

A small tech case in hand and a jumpsuit and hat displaying the name of the tech company were worn. ID badge, so realistic that he wondered if his company didn't own this one. Arriving in the office's reception area, he used the subdermal trigger in his finger to activate the monitoring devices in the case. The young and fresh secretary took his name and noticed his efficiency. He waited patiently as he noticed the heightened level of security for what the office was supposed to be as a front. Even with Dr. Hu's credentials, the cameras and keycoded doors seemed a bit much. All the more excitement for later.

A few moments later, a peppy man in his thirties arrived. His badge read 'Judson Perry, Data Technician'. A gopher sent to deal with the help, no doubt. He shook hands with the man, who seemed terribly cheerful. Perhaps he enjoyed his work. Roland enjoyed his as much. After general details and a varied array of perusing, Roland set himself to task. He assured Mr. Perry that should he need him, he would let him know. The server banks awaited.

Subroutines and coded messages were applied as test programs as Roland walked the server banks. From his blueprints, he knew that Hu's Laboratory was on the other side of a wall from his current position. He initiated a string of viruses that caused the temperature to fluctuate in something called a 'Cold Room'. Alarms sounded and he noticed that a security guard entered the offices and several men and women in lab coats and facemasks came from a different direction, more than likely leaving this room. It had to be the target area.

Once the general alarm was over, Roland was surprised to see Dr. Hu himself enter the server banks. The door closed behind him. " I need to see the data on the cooling systems. Am I able to access that without interrupting you?" Roland stepped back, flourishing. " By all means." He already knew that the program he had introduced would show a random faulty circuit in the coolant tanks. No matter how many times a circuit was replaced, the subsequent tests would reveal the fault in a different line until Roland shut the program down. It was an educated risk and it seemed to pay off.

" It is out of the ordinary, but I need you to enter the Cold Room and find this faulty circuit. This problem will set my research back by weeks and I don't have weeks." Roland began to gather his equipment, a feigned look of worry plastered on his face. So, there was a timeline. But who had put it on Hu? It was odd enough that he had stopped his research on the common cold for this new project, but now a timeline as well?" It's against normal policy, but I'll see what I can do, Doctor." He was led through a coded door. Easy enough. A second with a longer keycode. Not a problem.

Arriving at the vault-like door of the cold room, he was given a facemask and goggles. Immediately the red light of a retinal scanner and the gel like substance over a grid indicated its brother the palmprint scanner. Roland expected as much, just not so quickly. He pretended to fumble with the goggle straps until Hu took the goggles from him and handled them well enough to glean a palm. While he was busy with that, Roland sent a small plastic adhesive covering to the right eye of the goggles strung around the good doctor's neck. The covering was thin enough to evade detection of anything short of an electron microscope, itsp urpose to record the retinal pattern as it was scanned. Another billion dollar patent in the works for Mondragon Labs.

Located a few miles past the outskirts of Massachusetts primary city of commerce a quotidian chain link fence separated the desolate terrain from an imposing array of steel constructs, each almost humming with the energy of the nation’s electrical grid. A few feet behind the metallic towers rested a series of dusty cuboid objects topped with multiple undulating rods, around which were wrapped a collection of onyx wires which served to connect each transformer to its respective switch tower. Printed upon the side of every humming box was the age old yellow triangle and obsidian lightning bolt which signaled the machines danger for anyone foolish enough to overlook the ever present static in the air.

The defense of this facility was not truly a primary concern for its caretakers, that much could easily be derived by the paltry barricade along the perimeter. Such blatant disregard for security however could easily be overlooked since in many way the substation looked after itself; on more than one occasion an errant arc of electricity had chosen to break free of its mechanical bonds and ground itself via an oblivious rodent or unwitting bird. Needless to say the local wildlife had long since learned to grant the facility a wide berth, however there was still the rare creature which seemed to take it upon itself to commit a shocking suicide by venturing within the towers radius and as their carcass would only serve to attract larger animals the chain link fence had been constructed and a large iron wrought padlock placed upon the entrance to thwart such anti Darwinian efforts.

Today though the metallic gate lay open, the cumbersome padlock hooked around a random link, which even now was causing it to sag slightly. A set of tire tracks etched the simple dirt road which led into the hazardous substation and trailed all the way to the facilities center where an unmarked white van silently rested, both the machines driver and side door were open carelessly, as though the owner had no expectations of being long removed from his vehicle and indeed if one were to spare a moment to survey their surroundings they would surely spot the automobiles owner. A slender individual, garbed in an achromatic set of overalls emblazoned with some unknown company’s logo, the man’s upper half was attired in a long sleeved plaid shirt with rubber gloves adorning his hands and a Yankees baseball cap resting atop his cranium. An obsidian duffle bag was slung across the stranger’s right shoulder and although it did not seem unduly heavy the man’s posture appeared somewhat tense.

‘Next time, aspirin.’ The thought echoed through the mercenary’s slightly throbbing mind as he paced ever closer to the row of slate coloured transformers. Even though the elemental was still a fair distance from the electrical devices he could easily detect a static pulse in the air, one which fluctuated so frequently that his skull was beginning to ache giving him a constant wince. It was not a debilitating pain, not at this level, it was merely a rather pointed annoyance, the mercenary had dealt with similar sensations during thunder storms but those were generally short lived and cleared the moment lightening breached the clouds and struck the earth. In this instance however the mercenary had already dealt with three separate substations so far today and although it only cost him six minutes or less to plant a charge multiple explosives were typically needed to ensure the complete termination of the facilities output, thus the time had added up in a rather annoying manner as the hessian sought down each primary location within each substation thereby leading to the aforementioned headache.

A small amount of research on the subject after a particularly obnoxious thunderstorm had led the elemental to discover that his discomfort was likely due to what was termed ionized air, gaseous molecules which had been stripped of electrons to so as to increase their conductive potential and thereby create a path of least resistance between the sky and the earth. This information had proven itself to be something of a double edged sword for on the one hand if the elemental actually tasked himself he was able to locate and identify the fluctuating energy regions, once identified these regions could be avoided and, if necessary, maneuvered. In so doing the mercenary markedly decreased his odds of becoming an overcooked corpse. The downside of such an approach though was that since the presence of the energy fields alone was enough to induce pounding headaches within the hessians cranium focusing upon them served only to increase the effect tenfold.

Standing perhaps ten feet from the first transformer Zephyr allowed his azure eyes to close as he swept the immediate area with his own unique senses, grimacing as his attention came to focus upon the unsightly areas of ionized air and the throbbing in his skull racked up another notch. For approximately five minutes the Kabal member remained quiescent; allowing his perception to probe and slowly brush the hazardous region away from his target. When at last a path had been cleared the elemental strode forward at a sedate pace before kneeling at the base of the first transformer, carefully sliding the duffel bag and onto the ground beside him before unzipping the container with swift a flick of his arm. A moment later the same appendage had dipped into the bags contents and tentatively withdrawn a cellophane wrapped cube roughly the size a traditional fire baked brick, along with this deceptively passive package was a small coil of sand coloured wire, one end of which was quickly threaded through the plastic covering and into the gray substance beneath.

In truth Simon had no idea as to the precise name of the explosive under his care, it was some form of compound the Mondragon scientists had concocted during the registration phase for the purpose of disabling the ever troublesome stalkers. The initial prototype had failed its test run however; lacking an adequate damage output to cause any sufficient harm to the metal monstrosities. Despite this though the elemental had been assured that the compound would pack enough of a punch for his purposes and he had been left with a more than ample supply.

Having planted the first charge Zephyr dabbed at his brow the edge of his sleeve sparing a moment to glance up at the noon day sun before adroitly rising to his feet and heading back to the white van, returning a moment later with an unnaturally large cell phone clasped in his rubber grip. After taking a moment to double check the devices settings the elemental bent down to retrieve the end of the tan wire he had released seconds ago before slotting the cord into one of several niche’s distributed along the machines back.

‘One down, three to go.’