Joe was a bit of a troublemaker in grade school, starting fights fairly often, and winning almost constantly. Not being the biggest or strongest, he was declared victorious through his ingenuity, having learned that he could hit harder with a belt buckle or rock than he could with his most tightly clenched fist. He was quick, and smart, adapting to each new opponent with relative ease. This new adversary, this Mr. Hart was no exception. Joe would learn his moves, analyze the way he thought, and break him. This Inimicus Novus would bend to his will in no time.

Joe swiftly swung the door open, attempting both to maximize the speed of his operation, and minimize the attention he drew. He strode into the crowd, a man with a purpose, and ripped the pin from a gas canister, the pin and lever dropping to the floor, an unheard clatter echoing amongst the sound of footsteps and conversations, unnoticed. Joe rolled the bright yellow grenade acrossthe floor, counting out the four second fuse, dropping as many others as he could, before the first activated. He sprinted back to the bathroom, and drew two flash grenades from his belt, and yanked the pins out with his teeth, feeling his molars begin to ache from the force. He spun, and hurled them into the crowd. One soldier was struck in the mouth with one, and dropped to his knee after recovering, and raised his weapon, shouting, "Zeds! 12 O'clock!", before selecting a target, and opening fire. In the ensuing chaos, Joe tossed the other flashbangs, and made his way to the restroom, his ears ringing from the first two, and his teeth sore, one bleeding, from ripping the pins from his instruments of anarchy.

"THEY'RE COMING!" Joe screamed, desperate to empty the airport as quickly as possible. He kicked open the restroom door as he ran in, hoping to whatever god he followed that Myztii was inside, and Gabe was dead.