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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Calinon" data-source="post: 1570303" data-attributes="member: 13737">Epilogue ShanghaiMia Toan sat bored in her lavishly decorated appartment. The man on the table in front of the television had stopped twitching long ago. She idly threw another dagger into his corpse as she watched a satellite news feed from the NAA. The phone rang and she picked it up. "Ten? Who gave you permission to call me here," she said angrily, already considering ways to kill the annoying gang leader. But as he spoke, she found herself intrigued. "You are certain?" she asked. "Introduced himself?" she laughed. "Killed Nova? Splendid!" She paused. "Describe them," she said, then smiled as she listened. "Oh yes, alive most certainly. You've done well, Ten. I will be at your hideout soon," she said, hanging up the phone. "Kevin York. You're alive and have come to me. And you brought me so many of your troublesome friends. I will thank you," she said, stabbing another dagger viciously into the corpse on her table before her. "Before I finish what I started in New York." Somewhere in South America…“Are you sure this is something we should have our hands in, Mole?” “We are mercenaries, Anithos, and we are getting paid. What part of that didn’t you understand when you signed on,” comes the rumbling reply. The Mole poked his head out from the back of one of the three huge armored vehicles and fixed Anithos with a squinty stare. “Aren’t you enjoying foiling some of the finest security systems in the world?” he asked with a twitch of his nose. “That was before the whole plan started unfolding. I could appreciate the theft of the vehicles.” “And meeting those young women, I’m sure,” laughs Flick as she sits atop the truck the Mole was in. “Yes, well,” Anithos responds with a cough. “I could even appreciate stealing something from a secure location like Lockheed.” “Stellar use of illusions there,” Aerin says, sitting on a bench nearby. “Why thank you,” Anithos says flatly. “But it doesn’t take a genius to add cryogenic containers, highly defensible transportation and the fact we are breaking in to a chemical and biological research lab together and come up with a bad scenario.” “Not bad for us,” the Mole grumbles. “Profitable for us.” “At what cost? Do you even know what it is we’re stealing? Do you have any idea what it could be used for?” “No. And I don’t really care,” the Mole says, stepping out of the back of the vehicle. “But if you don’t want play a role in this, you’re free to go. I’ll deposit your pay in your account.” “What!?” Aerin and Flick say in unison, with confusion. “And if I talk to someone about this?” “You won’t,” the Mole chuckles. “So I can just go,” Anithos says suspiciously. The Mole lets out a great sigh. “Yes.” As Anithos turns and he adds, “I can completely understand. You likely couldn’t pull off a robbery of this magnitude.” Anithos stops. “I mean the security is second to none in SAP’s facilities. Nobody likes to take on a system they know they can’t beat.” Anithos clutched his hands into fists. “I suppose,” the Mole says calmly, “your reputation is a bit overblown.” Anithos spins around, “Now just wait a damn minute! I can beat any security system in the world, defeat any camera, and break into any vault…” “Prove it,” the Mole interrupts. Anithos’ face twitches as the Mole’s play on his ego works like a charm. Angered, he stalks across the room and into the adjoining sleeping quarters, slamming the door behind him. Somewhere in New York…“Is it completed, doctor?” the shadowed man asks a middle-aged woman in a lab coat. “Based on the data Ghost provided from Afifi’s lab, this agent should pass all examinations. It will, for all appearances, be the Anaconda virus, though it is actually harmless,” she replies. “Until he adds his mutagentic agent to the mix,” the man in shadows says with a grin. “When that happens,” the woman says with an equally cold smile, “the virus will become deadly to humans without the mutant gene. All you need to do is swap the canisters.” “Excellent work, doctor.” “I have some bad news, however,” she adds. “I tested the samples that mercenary recovered for us. None of them have the Omega gene.” “Unfortunate and unexpected,” the man calmly pondered. “Perhaps I misread the flames,” he says with a pause. “It is of no matter,” he says finally. “Mason,” he called to nobody. From a nearby wall, a man of stone disengaged himself from the stonework of the wall. “You and Ghost, take the doctor’s canisters. Make sure they are swapped with the real virus before it reaches Afifi.” “And if those EPIC brats interfere?” the stone man asks. “Since they are of no further use to us, eliminate them.” The stone man lets out a grating chuckle, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. End of Issue 4<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1570506#post1570506" target="_blank">Link to Issue 5</a></blockquote>

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