[b]SIXGUN[/b]

"Well, I reckon you might try the kitchen, for starters," Fletcher Ross said as he put on his Panama hat and white suit jacket. "These folks can afford to have a second house just fer guests, I do imagine they might have shelled out for some cornflakes." He smiled at the helmeted figure, even as his mind was racing yet again. Music had international connections, he knew that. The man had discussed bringing in more soldiers, some of them metahuman. By the voice, this fellow was a Limey, and by his costume he wasn't just some wannabe Kray twin- this guy was likely serious. That was worrying- barely a few hours had passed. Was the muscle just waiting here in Chicago waiting for the go-ahead?

More importantly, was the Panamanian already here?

He forced the thought out of his head, focused on his mission. He'd burn that bridge when the time came. "Let's find some food, pal," he said with a smile, giving Wire a friendly pat on the shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the tiny camera and mic Sixgun had placed on his jacket- the better to learn more about him.

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[b]SONJA[/b]

"She might make it? Good," Sonja said, nodding sleepily. Her energy reserves were pretty much spent, she would need a few hours of sleep and some food before she could get back in the mix. If she could- she doubted having MAJOR SUPER-CRIMINALS ESCAPE, DOZENS KILLED on the front page of the [i]Post-Dispatch[/i] was going to solve her magical problems. She began to drift off to sleep. She thought about Sarin, she thought about Bluegrass, she thought about Music. And of course her teammates.