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[b]Sunday, May 11th, 11:13 am
Abandoned Warehouse, Edge of New York[/b]

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The sun had finally started to shine through the cloudy skies that dominated all morning, but it’s shrill shadow still cast across the eastern docks and one could still see their breath. In the distance, you could hear the roar of a motorcycle, and as it got closer the more unusual it’s sound seemed. No one visited this part of town anymore since it had been scheduled to be demolished back in 2009, but because of some rather strange and yet unnoticeable hiccups in the system, the contractors hadn’t been paid yet. There was one reason someone would visit though.

Coming to a slow stop upon the gravel spread across the old concrete pad, Ranae turned the key and put the foot-stand up. She was wearing traditional bike gear for the moment with the highlighted vest and helmet, but underneath was a black hoodie over her costume wear. Sliding her sleek midnight blue helmet off, she used her free hair to free her hair from it’s slightly tangled mess. It hardly bothered her though as she unsaddled the bike and looked over the ancient building. It had been once used to move the catch from fishermen boats, but now sat in seemingly disrepair and neglect, but she knew better.

Rolling her bike into a side door as to hide it, she slide into one of the outside closets, a room used for the janitors at the time and pushed a hidden button on the wall. Something inside the walls seemed to hum to life and Ranae felt a familiar jerk of the floor before it began to unfold and descend. Yes, she had made the cliche hideout from an abandoned warehouse, but there was more to it than people would’ve realized. She had to have things shipped in over the years to avoid suspicion while practicing her martials arts, though the place had been done a few years ago now. The biggest issue was having power as you didn’t want the city knowing of it’s existence, so she did the only thing she could think of - had the walls underneath taken out and installed a hydro-generator. One big generator was more than enough to power a single person’s operation into the net and such (which had been more or less wired in with firewalls to keep her hidden).

The room opened up into a nice, clean square that hosted as a bedroom on one side of it, a personal shower and bathroom, along with a makeshift kitchen and her computer area that also served as storage for weapons and gadgets. She walked to the computers and hit one of the keys, making it wake from sleep and typed in the name ‘Ted Jackson.’ It was already opened to the program some private hacker made her for an amount of money that was beyond most. It suddenly pulled up GPS coordinates and video footage of the man within the last hour along with current surveillance. [b]”In the next town, hm? Guess I’m taking another bike ride...”[/b]