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The woman in her suit of armor remained motionless on the floor as the time ticked away, though the mercenary would likely notice other sounds coming from within the armor in addition to the gasped breaths. Faint liquid sounds as if something was going on in there and whatever it was could not be pleasant, but the details of what was going on would remain uncertain.

It would not be a full hour before a representative of his employers arrived. What seemed on first glance to be a large garbage truck pulled up outside of the warehouse. The truck then proceeded to back in through the damaged doorway and when it came to a stop the back of the truck folded outwards revealing that rather than a trash compactor the truck instead was filled with advanced technology and what would likely be obvious at first glance to be soldiers of some kind. Their uniforms were black and crimson in color with the red appearing mostly on the sleeves and chest. Each of them wore black gloves, and boots, each of them held a weapon that looked similar to an assault rifle but with a cable that connected it to a pack strapped to their backs. And each of them had their faces covered by an almost featureless black mask that was obviously sealed off.

The first to emerge from the back of the truck was a man who War Pulse would recognized as Randall, the man who had given him the mission in the first place. He unlike the other men was dressed in a suit rather than the uniform that the rest wore and in on of his hands he carried another briefcase. His blue eyes flicked around the warehouse, over war pulse and the fallen figure in armor before he raised his hand and made a gesture. His stretched, oddly uneven face, bore the slightest hint of satisfaction as the ten men from the back of the truck also emerged.

They moved with clear training and precision, always keeping their weapons trained on the target as one of them moved forwards and bent down to examine the figure.

Randall's voice sounded then, voicing something that War Pulse would likely not be surprised to hear. "Your contract was to bring her in alive. If she is-"

"Sir, the asset is still breathing."

"Good." Randall replied then to the soldier who was bent over the fallen woman. "Secure her for transport." Then he turned his attention back to War Pulse again. "Well done, you have not disappointed, and our employers are pleased with your performance." He held out the briefcase for the mercenary to take and once it had been taken he continued. "There are two things enclosed within. Firstly your next assignment for which you will be paid double what you have received thus far, secondly a syringe, follow the instructions concerning it. Once ou have completed this task you will have proven your worth and our employers will meet you pers..."

But Randall's explanation was cut off as chaos was briefly unleashed in the wreckage of the ruined warehouse. One of the soldiers, one who had been attempting to set up the restraining field on the woman fell to the ground in two pieces with a spray of blood and a grunt of surprised pain. The armor had largely pealed back and what had now risen to its feet bore only a passing resemblance to the woman who War-Pulse had subdued earlier. 

The hair had been completely replaced with the electrical tendrils that had earlier shocked the man, still platinum blonde in color, but now crackling with electricity and lashing around in a frenzy. The face which had earlier split wide with an abnormally large mouth was now inhuman, the brilliant orange eyes now looked completely alien as her mouth hung open and a horrifying set of teeth showed. There was an unfinished look to the face, the features vague and ill defined. Her tongue, now coiling within her mouth appeared bladed, but what was truly shocking where the bony blades that had grown from her arms, and which had just sliced the man clean in half.

In that very moment the same shriek that had proved so effective earlier sounded, and as the soldiers staggered for a moment the horror that the woman had become moved. The scything blades cut down another soldier and the tendrils lashed outwards towards Randall. The man though simply held up his arm and as the tendrils coiled around it, grabbed them and pulled, ripping a number of them away, seeming completely unphased by the electricity. Recovering with great speed the soldiers began to fire as well, their guns firing a stream of something that looked awfully like pudding, but that clearly wasn't. Where they struck the streams solidified but the woman had moved too quickly and one of the explosive orbs that had been used earlier dropped and detonated, this time with a blinding flash of light and a thunderous bang that covered her escape. 

For when the dust had settled she was gone. Randall still held the writhing tendrils that he had ripped free in his hand and his facial expression was now one of extreme interest. "Follow the instructions." The man said simply, "And our employers will meet you personally." There was something odd about how he said it, and the fact that rather than anger or irritiation he seemed interested in what had occurred was certainly unusual. He turned and walked back into the vehicle the unwounded soldiers removed the corpses of their fellows with the same efficiency they had shown before. War Pulse would likely be able to see as the tendrils were bagged and then the truck closed off again and drove away. 

Likely there would be a number of questions, Just who were these people? What had he been hunting? And many others.