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((WAITING ON JERKFACES AND HUNTING VENOM))

Cado's mind flashed with imaginations of the faces of the cops in the car that had been tailing them. He had been so caught up in the moment. The excitement. The fire and passion.

And like they were ants, he had burned away the lives of innocent human beings for no apparent reason, it seemed.

((WHERE ARE ALL THE POSTERS?!))

((I'm waiting on them too!))

((Oh, does it?))

Jack pulled a package of cigarettes from his packet, pulled an individual out, lit it, and took a drag. Hades grunted in irritation and Jack grimaced. "Clever folks they were. Did their part well. Took advantage of their elements, people giving pressure," he flashed a slight grin here, "and pretty much just accomplished their whole escape pretty smoothly." He took a moment to let out a puff of smoke. "Now am I done?" he grumbled. Hades rolled his head as though in emphasis of an eye-roll.

"Very well, Jack. You're free to go. You too, Mrs. Daley, Mr. Daley. Anita, not done with you," he added as the only figure they hadn't actually seen in the light nearly made a move away. "One last basic assessment. Combat." Hades looked to the boatman. "Steven?" he inquired.

Steven stepped forwards. He was still carrying his rifle. "All their combat situations were handled better than most would've expected. Extreme skill in the placing of both rounds and grenades was proved; very decent self-control was shown even under extreme circumstances." He stepped back. Hades nodded to the last figure, who stepped forward. It was the girl whom Marcus had apparently disarmed - her name was apparently Anita.

"Well, beyond minor injury," she looked down on her arms here; all the larger cuts were covered with bandages of some sort, "the mercenary was very capable of performing a disarming maneuver. Albeit painful and slow to remove, the injuries were very much non-life threatening, presuming lack of infection." She glared at her arm as though daring it to infect. "And given Bullfrog medical technology, I have a feeling we need not fear that."

Hades nodded. "I think that covers everything. If you have questions, you can turn on your communicator and we'll have a chat. In the meantime, get out of my office," Hades demanded pleasantly. Apparently not having much of a choice, they complied. Just out in the waiting room was Jack, blowing puffs of smoke onto everything classy-looking within the building. He looked irritated. The boatman - er, Steven went over to meet him.

"Hey, I'm a bit holed up," Steven said, indicating his shoulder. "I'll meet you somewhere for lunch?" he suggested quietly. Jack thought a moment and they began to plan this. As for the agents, all those who were injured (which was pretty much all of the agents) were accosted by paramedics, who quickly guided them back to the elevator. They then proceeded downwards into the bowels of the earth. After stopping, they exited into a clean white hallway. A half minute more walking and they arrived at a large pair of doors marked 'Agent Repair'. They were ushered in, then Cado was pushed in one door and Alyx another. Inside was a table. It was wide enough that a very large man could lie spread-eagle upon it and not have any worries. A few restraint systems lay about; they didn't look prepped for use at all. The medics indicated that Cado should lie down, then physically made sure he did it anyway. Since his sleeves were already gone, they didn't need to put any more work into that. One starting fiddling with a device which he placed against Cado's head; the others began to remove the bandages and started working on proper repair. Surprisingly, it was painless.

Meanwhile, Marcus and Gabriel were dropped down but not as far, only to an underground parking garage, where they had originally parked their personal vehicles to get to work. The message was clear; job's done, go home.

After perhaps thirty minutes, Cado discovered to his surprise that the gentlemen working on him were done. They told him he probably shouldn't exert his arms for perhaps a day or two, but that it wouldn't do him any substantial harm. They also pointed to the pitch black skin grafts placed into the bullet wounds, and told him that eventually his skin would simply grow to the point that they would leave. They then pushed him back into the elevator, where he found himself after a moment at the parking garage. None of the other agents or mercenaries were there; it seemed that either he was faster out than Alyx or slower. Either way, it was probably time to go home.

((Next post will be a TIMESKIP, so now you can do like a post's worth of char/house development, since you, unlike most agent teams, don't actually live in the facilities provided by Bullfrog. Lucky, lucky you. Maybe some day you'll find out why.

Sorry, Demidom - your patience is appreciated.))

It took the medics a full three hours to properly rebuild Alyx's hand with surrogate materials. Bone structure was hard enough to replace, even though it was already made of metals and plastic; her muscles and tendons were even harder, as artificially grown materials had to be given time to grow and attach to their proper locations, not to mention re-augmenting the individual knots of muscle.

By the time she actually got out, she was a little disturbed; like Cado, there had been no anesthesia beside the literally perfect pain control device attached to her skull, so she had been given the pleasure of watching her own hand pulled apart and rebuilt.

She got to her car, tried to open it, and miserably discovered she didn't have the keys. With a groan, she slammed her forehead into the door repeatedly, time after time after time. After perhaps two minutes, she gave up, sliding to the concrete beside her vehicle. The parking garage was surprisingly almost empty, if not entirely. She checked her watch; 22:21. Almost everyone would've gone home.

Her saviors, however, had been out partying.

Steven and Jack burst out of the elevator, both singing loudly. One might've thought they were drunk; this would not have been accurate, as they both knew they had to drive home. No, they were just singing for the heck of it. Steven had apparently disposed of his rifle, but there was still the 1911 strapped to his hip. They were advancing across the parking lot when Steven caught sight of Alyx slumped against the car. "Look, she's trying to steal it," Steven cut into their song, and they both burst into laughter. Alyx tried to hide her face, and the gentlemen's laughing subsided. "Need a ride, then?" Steven offered, and she pulled herself up.

Thirty minutes later, Alyx dragged herself up the last of the stairs to her sixty-second story apartment. Of course the elevator was out. Of course she couldn't afford to waste adrenaline on getting upstairs. She went to open the door, and thanked the stars that there was a keypad entry system, since she didn't have her keys. Barely managing to pull her shoes off, she stumbled through the sitting room and collapsed onto her bed, practically asleep before she touched down.

((By the way, Joe, I was wondering if you wanted to use your mercenaries. I mean, you said you're in charge of a group of mercenaries, right? So do you want to use them? And if so, how would they be armed?))

New weapon proliferated: M21 SWS

((Description added when I have time.))