The Eleventh Hour
(Chapter 11)

September 16th, 12:04am PDT
Pier 80, San Francisco

     "Do you still have faith of that which came before we were alive to see?" asked Tamamo-no-Mae. "We should say a prayer. That our actions be swift, graceful, and victorious in the name of Kuni-toko-tachi no mikoto. Just as he was swift, graceful and victorious in doing the work of the Creator, which bore Heaven and Earth out of chaos; we now do the work expected of us by the divinity to which we must have everlasting faith." She reached for Sinopa's hands.

Tamamo, in the possessed body, bowed her head, so that her forehead came to rest against Sinopa's own. They chanted softly together in prayer of victory in battle. At the conclusion of their quietly murmured séance, Tamamo reached behind her back and, from thin air, withdrew a brilliant sword from an unseen sheath.

She offered the three-tail a smile. "Your sword is of fine craft for having just been fashioned, Sinopa. But I wield only the kogitsune-maru in battle. Perhaps, one day when you're ready, I will allow you the honor of taking it into battle. But tonight, that honor is mine." She held it aloft, admiring it, then twirled the weapon once in each hand.  She moved it back to her right palm and offered an almost sardonic grin. 

"You will be using muscles your vessel is not used to stretching. If you injure yourself, you will be the death of her in battle."

"You know so little about possession, because you have your physical body, Sinopa. Now, as a newly liminal being, she has become flooded by what the humans call a 'hormone' from their 'adrenal gland.' Don't question my knowledge – I have proven to be beyond wise in all areas of academia. Besides, from working the docks, this vessel is rather strong and tone for a female human." Tamamo twirled her sword, again, causing a deep 'whooshing' sound. "And the endorphin release… I've not felt the rush before battle in far too long. It's intoxicating. Come, then!"

"Hai, sempai," murmured Sinopa, worried for the dockworker's body. She unsheathed her katana once more, then shifted the spare one to her shoulder, so that it rested along her back.

The two women came around the corner of the metallic container with a casual stride. Their confident gait attracted attention from the men in the black gear. The first ones to see the kitsune reached for their ski mask and pulled them down to cover their faces. The mercenary on the left whistled long and loud to attract the attention of his coworkers.

The men put down their working tools, ropes and pallet jacks. They reached for handguns on their hips or against their ribcages. A series of soft metallic clicking sounds – the slides atop of each pistol – could be heard over the intermittent breeze that swept across the dock. They pointed their weapons forward, towards the approaching women.

"HEY!" Everyone froze at the sound of a young girl's voice. The entire group canted their heads back towards the city, seeing a young lady and middle aged man approach. "I'm here to party crash!"

Tamamo narrowed her gaze and held her hand up towards the approaching succubus. "This fight is my honor. You may spectate… For now." She narrowed her gaze further. "I recognize your face… you're the daughter of Azazel Cambion. He had a sister, Meridiana, who was famous for her secret romance to Pope Sylvester the Second."

Karla clapped her hands with a laugh. "You know my family? That's awesome!"

One of the mercenaries shouted, "Who are you people and what are you doing here?" He kept his gun pointed at Tamamo's possessed body.

"Hai," said Sinopa. "We are kitsune. A pleasure to meet you again, Karla-san."

Donovan glanced to Karla, adjacent to him, and said, "So your father was an incubus? I didn't know that incubi or succubae could reproduce."

"It's succubi, honey," said Karla. "And the Malleus Maleficarum didn't have all its facts straight. It's difficult to impregnate a succubus but not impossible; an incubus has a low sperm count. Very low." She grinned back at the two women. "I doubt the kojiki had all the details perfect, too. Am I right, ladies?"

"Shut up!" said another mercenary, pointing his weapon towards Karla. "Identify yourselves!"

"Oh shit!" said a third, "The blond is that chick that keeps killing our squads! Watch out, she can teleport and throw objects around!"

Several of the men responded by shooting towards Karla. The rounds stopped, just short of her. She plucked one from the air then flicked it over her shoulder. The rest dropped to the ground. "No, no, boys. I was told to spectate. Those two white babes have swords. This should be interesting, right?"

Tamamo let out an exuberant battle cry and charged the group.

Karla blinked and folded her arms, impressed. "Did she just say Banzai?"

"I do believe I heard that word somewhere in that statement," Donovan murmured in reply. "They don't appear Japanese."

"Yeah, no kidding." Karla flinched, eyes wide, seeing a flash of fire sprout up like a pillar near the squad. Another fire exploded out of thin air up on the cargo ship. An alarm sounded on the cargo vessel, with flashing LED lights on various sections of the ship's main deck.

"Holy smokes. I love the whole fire thing," said Karla, while watching the two women dive into battle, full on.

Meanwhile, Sinopa shifted her sword a fraction of a second before a handgun fired in her direction. The round struck her blade, damaging the tip. She pivoted on her foot then came around at full swing. The sword sliced through the gunner's hands and separated the handle from the handgun. Bullets spilled across the concrete and blood gushed in unison to his shout of agony.

Tamamo, several feet away, pulled her sword from one man's chest, then flipped it around and drove the blade backwards into a man approaching her from behind. She put her foot on the dying body in front of her, then kick-flipped away from him, over the head of the man behind her. The sword, still in the second man's torso, moved with Tamamo's somersault. When she landed behind the second attacker, she pulled her sword free from his backside and he dropped to the ground on the left and right, split vertically in two halves.

Sinopa thrust her left hand outwards. A fist-sized fireball launched from her palm and struck a nearby mercenary in the chest. His gear ignited in flame and he ran to the edge of the dock then jumped into the water, screaming.

Sinopa turned about and extended her arm. Her katana glanced across a soldier's gun, knocking it from his hands. He dove away from her to evade her next attack.

Back by the nearest lamppost, Karla shifted her weight while watching. "I wish I had popcorn. Battle scenes are so much more epic in real life than they are in movies."

"That's because you're more emotionally engaged due to the fact that what you're seeing is real," Donovan told her.

"I want popcorn," the succubus said. "Slathered in butter. Y'know, back when I used to watch a lot of TV in the 80's and 90's, I used to think those TV commercials said, 'Orlando Lakes butter.' I always pictured Mickey Mouse selling butter by the stick to little kids."

"Karla…"

"No, seriously. You know what? If Land O' Lakes changed their name to LOL Butter, they'd increase their sales to the youth crowd."

"Karla…" Donovan eyed her, shook his head, then glanced back at the combat unfolding twenty-five feet away. A hint of a grin touched the man's lips. "Sounds like a butter substitute to me."

"Honey, you're so cute. But, honestly, unless you made it yourself, all butter is fake, Donnie." She put her hands on her hips then huffed with indignation. "They're going to kill all the bad guys before I get to fight. I'm kinda' jealous, here."

"It's dishonorable to interrupt unless invited. Japanese or otherwise."

"Oh fine." Karla stuck out her lower lip then blew air up, causing her bangs to flit about. "You're not fun."

The two women came back to back as the mercenaries flanked them in a horseshoe, with the ship and water blocking them in.

"Kitsune-ken?" Tamamo asked.

"Seriously? You know of that game?"

Tamamo smiled again. "Knowledgeable in all things, little one." She brought her left hand from the bottom of the handle of her sword and held it out. Sinopa did the same and they shook their hands then each made a gesture.

Karla, a little ways a way, squinted her eyes. "Are they playing Rock, Paper, Scissors? Seems trite. I like it."

"I'm not sure," Donovan replied.

Tamamo appeared delighted to have won the little game. "You thought I would have chosen hunter? Fox bewitches your village headman. I win. The spotlight is mine. Watch and learn, young one, as I put them all on their backs." She turned back to the group and clutched her left hand into a fist. A massive fireball erupted on the cargo ship, knocking all the mercenaries to the ground. "Now!"

Sinopa followed suit, pouncing upon the nearest soldier. She drove her sword into the man's chest just as he lifted his arm to fire his pistol.

Tamamo gracefully swayed her right arm outwards, cleaving two heads from the shoulders of the distracted mercenaries. Two gunmen remained. They quickly got to their feet.

Tamamo-no-Mae stumbled then blinked. Sinopa could see the confusion on her face. Tamamo looked at the body of the man Sinopa had just defeated then she gazed down at her overalls. A dark ink-like stain began to grow through the denim. "I… They didn't have such sil…silly objects in my day in this realm." She slowly lowered to her knees, struggling to keep her balance so as not to fall over. "Confound it… not again." Her sword, the kogitsune-maru, vanished.

The dockworker woman reached into the pouch of her overalls and withdrew a glowing ball, orangish stars swirling within. She clutched it in her palm then said, "You were right, Sinopa. I've endangered this vessel. I disregarded your wis…dom." The woman flopped over onto her side, dead. The glowing ball disappeared from her palm.

The mercenary nearest to the dockworker pointed his pistol down and shot the body several times, causing it to flinch from each administered round. The other soldier pointed his gun at Sinopa and said, "THIS ENDS NOW!"

"IIE!" Crevan drove her katana through the man's chest and used her left hand to blast the other man with a ball of fire. The second mercenary flew back over fifteen feet then struck the forklift. The fire on his clothes ignited the propane tank on the back of the machine, causing it to explode. The other gunner slid back from Sinopa's blade then dropped to the concrete with a thunk.

Karla stomped her foot. "I told you she'd kill everyone before we could get in on this fight." She sighed then said, "Wait here." The demoness disappeared. She reappeared besides the dockworker's body and put her fingers on the woman's neck. "Oh man, she's dead."

"Iie," Sinopa said again, in a softer tone. She pronounced the word as a long 'e', followed by, 'eh.' "It… it means 'no.' She is not dead. Tamamo-sama has returned to the celestial realm. This vessel, however, has lost her life and for that, she should be mourned.

"I have been looking for you," said Karla. "My friend Nathanial wants to see you. What brings you here to Pier 80?"

"We sought to find an artifact that was stolen from the Emperor of Japan. I believe it may have been shipped here on that cargo vessel."

'Yeah if there's anything left of it," Karla mused with a chuckle. "Your buddy blew the shit out of it."

"Pardon?" Sinopa moved her sword to its sheath but it was too badly damaged to go all the way into the case. She glanced over her shoulder at the cargo ship, with the flashing fire alarm lights. However, it appeared unscathed and unblemished. "We kitsune possess the gift of elemental control, such as fire. But to cause such an explosion? No. She ignited the air with heat. The rapidness of such caused an intense clap of thunder – much like the way this realm creates lightning. But nothing exploded. My kind is famous for our tricks and deceptions. My sensei merely deceived their eyes and ears. But the distraction wasn't enough to keep the man I killed from firing his weapon. I am partially responsible for the death of this woman. But Tamamo-no-Mae's rash decision of folly should never have happened to begin with. She is intelligent but impetuous. Her decision to meddle in the affairs of humans has always given her a bad name and painted her as an antagonist in the stories of our worshipers. Sadly, her actions were typically misunderstood moments of poor choices in action."

Karla sighed and put her hand on the kitsune's shoulder. "Sometimes, hon, the smartest and most intellectual people have little or no common sense. And that often gets them into all sorts of trouble. So… wait, you have worshippers?"

"Some worship the kitsune as deities. I cease to exist without the faith of the human soul. It is far more powerful than any heavenly being."

"So, wait," Karla paused, blinked, then said, "So when people all believed the earth was flat… it could have actually have been flat at one point?"

Sinopa offered a dry laugh and shook her head. "Be not silly. It can shape reality but not change the laws of nature. There is one ultimate being that created life throughout the universe. That being exists whether or not people believe such. But that divine being created a power in the human soul to give life through the power of faith. Humans have created their own protectors by the power of their faith, alone. And we all, humans and deity alike, serve a purpose and put the power of our faith into… He-who-created-the-Hitorigami, and breathed life into all kami, and the gods of all religions. Your people give them many names. Angels. Saints. Demigods. Titans. Olympians. The list is rather long."

"Well then." Karla licked her lips then stepped back. "Whatever hubris I had left… is rapidly dwindling. C'mon. Let's find your unknown artifact."

"Hai. You have my thanks." She nodded back towards Donovan, "and to your friend."

"Not a problem. Let's get started on searching these containers. I'll have Donovan cloak the area in a wall of shadows to ensure privacy for now."

X

 X

September 16th, 2:40am PDT
Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco

     "Say, what time is it over there?" Rufus shifted the cellphone to his other ear. "Yeah, hoss, it's the middle of the friggin' night over here. My flight leaves at six in the morning. I'm just kinda' spinning my wheels over here." The southerner paused a moment then chuckled. "Yeah. I arrived over at Pier-80 about thirty minutes ago. And get this… the place was crawling in cops. The cargo ship was locked down. I dunno what in th' hell happened. I'm following the scent of a mercenary to see where it leads. So how's South Africa?"

Over the line, Collobulous said, "Peaceful where I'm at. Do your best to find that thing Sire wanted, and I'll see you when you get here."

"Ayup." Rue slid the phone into his pocket then sniffed at the air and continued walking into the historically cultured heart of town. He crossed the street then stopped in front of a store called, "A Pane in the Glass." Rufus peered in through the windows then sniffed the air again. "That's definitely the same thug-ass bitch from the docks."

Rufus gave a gentle tug on a fashionable chain that hung from his neck then made his way back towards the alley behind the store and sniffed again.

"What're you doing over there?" asked a voice.

Rufus paused in mid-sniff. He turned about, slowly, until he came face to face with a rather elderly looking white male with a short gray crew cut. "Oh, me? I'm jus' sniffin' around, hoss."

The old man eyed Rufus for a moment then smirked. "Rufus Darken?"

Rue blinked. "You some sort of mind reader or somethin'?"

"No…" The old man folded his arms. "Why, did you have your own name on your mind? Isn't that how the whole mind-reading thing works? You've got to be actively thinking words for them to hear it, right?"

"Hell, I dunno." Rufus mimicked the posture, folding his own arms. "How ya' know my name, y'ole fart?"

"Let's uh… let's just say I know an oracle. That work for you?"

"It might."

"Good. What're you doing here, outside of Evan's store? Do you know him yet, or something?"

"Uh… I can't really say I know anyone named Evan. Sorry. I was tracking someone from Pier-80."

"Yeah?" The old man grinned. "I'm Nathanial Carrington. And I'm willing to wager the nincompoop you're hunting… he wears black gear, body armor vest, and typically walks around armed, right?"

"I found his gear in the trunk of a car," Rufus said, adding, "Well, Nathanial, at least we know each other's name now. So, if you know an oracle, and if you know about them jackhole morons that go around shooting people… does that mean you're in-the-know?"

Nathan held his left hand out, palm up. A soft spark of electricity appeared, hovering above his palm. It grew in intensity and size, illuminating the alley. "Does this answer your question, dog breath?"

"Yeah, guess it does, y'ole coot. What're you doing out here at this hour? Shouldn't you be in bed with a sweater and some applesauce?"

"I came out here to make sure you didn't catch Parvo, kid. There's supposed to be a sickness going around the Bay Area."

"Parvo huh?" Rufus gave another tug at the chain-link necklace he wore. "Tha's funny. Hell, I like you – you're perdy funny for an ole' fogy. Due thee, ah, success of those mercenaries' campaigns, I guess that puts us on the same team, huh? How'd you outrun those guys anyways?"

"I hobble fast when I'm not bein' stogy or wiping out Falcon's Inquisition squads with bolts of lightning. So… to be honest, I had no idea you'd come to San Fran. I thought you'd be in Miami or Africa at this point."

"Damn…" Rufus offered a wry grin. "You really must know one hell of an informed oracle. I jus' came from Miami. I'm headed to Africa in the morning. I got a lot to do. I went down to the pier to steal something off a boat. But the place is a war-zone. So… I tracked one of the bad guys that eluded the cops. I have no idea what I'm supposed to be taking. Just a briefcase with the number '437' on the label. Then I fly out in the morning. So, did this seer also tell you what I can do?"

"Yeah, yeah." Nathan folded his arms. "I'm trying to change how things play out. I'm trying to make everything happen differently than it's being foretold. The briefcase, 437, has an artifact in it that belonged to the Emperor of Japan. It needs to be returned to that guy. And yes, I know that you're a descendant of Fenrisúlfr. And I know that chain," Nathan trailed off and reached out, poking a gnarled old finger against the necklace, "Is supposed to be a mock-up of the Gleipnir for the sake of fashion. Right? Thin as silken ribbon, stronger than any iron chain. Yeah?"

"Ayup. You know a hell of a lot, old man."

"Yeah. Guess I do. You learn a lot when you're approaching a hundred 'n fifty years old, pup. Anyway, that artifact from the briefcase will wind up in the wrong hands. If you're hunting for it, then I bet that Japanese broad is looking for it, too. Which means Karla is looking for it. How about we finish tracking whatever it is that you smell… and we go pay that guy a visit and demand to know where it is?"

"I'm down with that. You gunna be able t' keep up without a walker?"

Nathanial disappeared in a brilliant, blinding flash. He reappeared directly behind Rufus, leaving the ground charred beneath his feet. "Son… I ride the lightning. So the question is… are you going to be able to keep up without a headstart? Now get that nose into high gear."

"How'n the hell you know so much, old man?"

"I told'ja. It's Nathan. And that's my secret. Besides. The chicks dig the whole 'man of mystery' thing. Now let's go change a rotten prophecy, yeah?"

X

 X

A little while later
…Just a few miles north

     "So, like, all the kid makes there is glass stuff?"

"Yeah. He's known for making anything out of glass that people want. He sets a one-week turnaround time so that no one knows he's using anything more than traditional means to make stuff for them. He's also got a pretty good presence on the internet. The rent in the Haight is pretty high. Apparently, with all that he does, his most popular item is a glass chair. I don't know what's special about it, but the kid sells them to insanely rich people as the new 'trendy object' that celebrities want."

"How come I never done heard about it, huh?"

Nathanial shrugged. "Maybe because Oprah hasn't talked about it in front of a camera; she's apparently too busy sitting in it. Plus the kids charges enough that he doesn't become overwhelmed by buyers."

"Dayum. What's he do with all that money?"

"He won't tell anyone where he lives, but trust me… it's high dollar. The rest of his money goes into a collection of nerdy stuff, tabletop gaming books, computers and sleek tablets… He's only twenty. He over spent his means up until he came up with the idea for his chair. Anyway… are we close?"

Rufus sniffed again the nodded firmly. "Aw hell yeah, we're close." He stopped on the corner of Vallejo Street then paused and sniffed again. "The scent forks. It goes right over to that cop station. Why would the dude…was he arrested, you think? Why would it go all over town, then come up to North Beach? There's lots of stations closer to Pier-80 that could've processed'em."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Because the mercenary was a cop working out of Central Station. Okay. So he goes in and stops by the job. He probably came here and picked up his personal car. You said the trail forks… where else does it go at the split?"

"This'a way." The pair headed southeast.

A few miles down, the two made their way to Mission Street. Several sections had buildings that had been recently condemned, with a few more that were now just large lots of dirt and construction. They made their way to an intersection that had an abandoned church with scaffolding around the sides, and tarps thrown over the roof.

Rufus stopped and sniffed at the air then nodded for Nathanial to follow. He continued past the night club and said, "That place ain't even finished and it already smells like debauchery, son."

Nathanial glanced back at it and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. You have no idea." He passed the building with a shake of his head then saw a warehouse up ahead with four silver vans parked on the side. The old man opened his hands and closed them a few times, able to crack his knuckles in this way. "The vans. Now we're talking. You ready to change history and save the world?"

"Uh… reckon so, pops. But how're we going to do that in this warehouse?"

"By hopefully changing the outcome of, well, everything." Nathan shook his head. "It's either that or I wind up out in a field, south of the Sausalito Vortac Tower, in the fight of my life. That's another option but I'd really rather not wind up there. Long story and I don't wanna talk about it."

"Yeah, sure, hoss. Just… what's a …Voctac?"

"Goofy space-age looking sombrero tower. It's for airplanes and jets. Anyhow… are you ready to kick the door in on that warehouse and level it?"

"No offense but… ain't we out numbered? I mean, y'know. Going in there with Bull is one thing. We work well together. But I dunno if we got chemistry, bucko."

"Just… trust me. We can do this." Nathanial pulled out his cellphone and called Karla. He put it on speaker phone. On the third ring, a girl answered the line. "Hey, sweetcheeks. I need you to do a favor for me."

"Nathan!" Her voice suggested that she'd been drinking. "Aw, man, you gotta meet the kitsune! That girl can hang, man! We just had sake until the bar closed. Even Donovan had a few!"

Nathanial groaned. "So much for having backup right now." He took a slow breath, shook his head, then said, "Okay. Here's what I need you to do. Drop 'Foxy Lady' off with her boyfriend and tell them to head out to the Sausalito Vortac tower. They can look it up online or something. It's sort of a backup plan. If they don't see me in a field a little ways south… right around nine in the morning… then that's a good thing. In that case, I'll meet her up there and give her the briefcase thing – provided you don't already have it. And as for you, I'm about to raid Falcon's warehouse. I'll text you the address. Meet me here in one hour. With Donovan. Be ready to rumble."

"Okay, I'll go grab some coffee and toast. I know where the warehouse is. Fox Parker was supposed to be there, and you said they moved him. See you in an hour. Don't go starting the fight without me. I've already missed out on one good fight. I'd hate to miss out on two in a row."

"Don't worry. I'm just going to soften them up for you. See you in an hour." Nathanial ended the call then pocketed his phone. "Karla and Donovan will show up to rescue us if it's too much to handle. Are you ready to wolf out on these guys?"

"Aw hells-to-the-yeah, I'm ready. You'd better be a badass, else I'mma be disappointed." The two approached the side of the warehouse, made their way between the vans and stopped adjacent to a pickup truck.

Nathanial lifted a tarp off the back of the truck bed then frowned. "Damn. I know what that thing is."

"Yeah? Wha's that?"

"Trouble. Let's not give these slops a chance to use what's on the back of that truck. C'mon." He went for a small side entrance door and put his hand on the knob. He paused then his hand incandesced briefly.

Nathan grimaced, giving the door more juice. A muffled click came from the door. "Heh. Magnetic locks don't work very well against me. You ready?"

"I'm jus' hopin' I dun regret this, son."

"Yeah. Same." Nathan opened the door and they both stepped into the warehouse. The large first room housed more vans, lockers against the far wall, and various odds and ends, from towing gear to seemingly random machinery. At the far end of the room was several pallets with shrink wrap.

"You smell anyone close? Adrenaline surge? Possible attackers?"

Rufus sniffed long and loud then shook his head. "They have a weird ventilation system in here. I can barely smell you and yer standin' right next to me, man."

"They're smart, I'll give'em that," the old man murmured. "C'mon, let's start with those cargo containers over there. I'd laugh if it was that easy."

The two crossed the large warehouse and approached the group of pallets. Nathanial motioned to the plastic stretchy sheet that covered the cargo boxes. "Alright. Arthritis. Tear that crap."

"Yeah, yeah." Rufus carefully ripped the plastic, tensing his arms in the sections that were wrapped the thickest. He made his way straight down to the wooden pallet then pulled the excess free and balled it up. "A'ite… let's see what we done got for Christmas, yeah?"

Nathanial ran his fingers over the first wooden crate. The nails and carpenter staples holding the containers together magnetically pulled free. The first box came apart with ease. The two men started rummaging through the filler fluff. Not finding anything that seemed important, they moved onto the next box.

"So why're you going to Africa anyhow?"

"Bull 'n I have to meet this dude that has some artifact. The guy who hired me to grab it called it a 'power core.' He said it's real important that we get it to some guy named Steven Milford, and don't let anyone else take it."

Nathanial blinked and glanced back at Rufus. "Yeah. It is important. That power core needs to disappear and if anyone will know what to do it with it… it's Steven. Have you met'em?"

"Naw."

"He's the oldest man on Earth. But he doesn't look a day over thirty. If that. You'll meet him eventually, I'm sure of that. So long as you keep your head attached to your shoulders, that is."

"You tellin' me that I cain't miss mah flight huh? Life and death sorta thing?"

"Yeah. That's what I'm telling you. Heh. I didn't realize it was going to be you that takes that thing back. That's a comforting thought, to be honest. If that thing falls into the wrong hands… well… let's just find this briefcase and get you to the airport. It's important that you go to Africa and get this thing. Trust me."

"A'ite, a'ite, now. I'll handle it soon enough. We're supposed to stay in Africa until the dude who has it comes through. God only knows how long this will take."

Within twenty minutes, they were on their seventh box. Nathan pulled a briefcase from the containers and grinned brightly. "Well now. Would'ja look at that – it's labeled 437."

"Jackpot. This th' thing that goes to yer sake-drinking pal? Is she cute?"

"Yeah. But taken. Alright. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Wait." Rufus reached for the briefcase and used his strength to pop the clasps. Nathan created a spark of electricity between his thumb and forefinger, illuminating the briefcase.

They looked at one another then back into the empty briefcase. In unison, they both muttered, "Shit."

Without warning, the main lighting came on, brightly illuminating the large building. Rollup doors on the far ends went up and mercenaries, too many to count, rushed in from both sides.

Nathanial and Rufus exchanged glances, once more. Again, they both muttered, "Shit," in unison.

X