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As expected, the man explained to him that the woman's powers were at this point unknown. Of course. A super secret job to chase down a woman who took out other metahumans with mysterious powers? Great, about as vague as you could get without Randall just shrugging and giving him the old 'I dunno". However, just before Trent was about to shrug and roll with it, the man produced him a bit of evidence in the form of an audio recording.

"...I'm...honestly a little surprised that your employers knew I was going to ask that question. More so that apparently you have dudes dying on tape and thought 'you know what would be great to keep around? This. I bet we're going to need this in the future." He chuckled and placed the earphones on, adding. "Oh who am I kidding? I bet this is comedy gold."

As advised, he placed on the headphones and listened patiently to the whole recording, and surprisingly, his attitude seemed to change when he heard the killings begin. His brow furrowed, lips pursing as he listened to the men describe what little they could explain about the attack, the woman's voice, everything he could analyze from an audio file went through his head. He made a few conclusions almost immediately, the people this group was hiring before him were nowhere near prepared to fight a superhuman. Whoever or whatever this woman was, she was fast, able to either dodge or avoid weapons fire, possibly resist it entirely as well from the sounds of it. Her voice at the end also had a clicking to it, either pointing to robotics or some kind of mutation, he couldn't tell which. He'd certainly be sending this information to Warden to see what he could make of it, but he was indeed dealing with a threat, not a victim. If this woman was going to be captured, she would not be captured without a hell of a fight.

And Trent would love every minute of it, guessing by the enthralled grin he sported when he put down the headphones.

"I think you've made a good choice hiring me, Randy." Trent said, popping the SD card out of the audio recorder and placing it with his dossier. "This ain't my first metahuman rodeo, and I don't need a gun to make an impact. I'll bring her to you alive, but don't hold it against me if the goods come a bit...damaged."

And with that, he tucked the dossier into his arm and got up from his seat. "Nice talkin' to ya, Randy. I'm sure we'll be keeping in touch."
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"Welcome home, boss, I trust you had a decent flight from the East?"

A larger man in a suit was there to greet The Cowl and his entourage when they landed in an airport just outside of Lost Haven, shut down for the night after some money was exchanged for the airport's security systems to have 'malfunctioned'. He had a large scar on his right cheek, punctuating his strong jawline and slicked back hair, a smile on his face as The Cowl came over to shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder.

"It was long, but necessary, Wesson. It's good to see you're still in charge when I left."

"Well, I'm only running the manpower, Smith took over the books." the man known as Wesson smiled and placed both hands on Cowl's. "I don't know how you managed it all yourself, or how you kept that rat-bastard Teddy in check."

"Honestly, he was going to turn eventually, I just had to make sure I had a backup plan."

"You couldn't have taken him down without us losing a cargo ship?" 

The joyful gaze of Cowl's turned sour on that question, his eyes boring holes into Wesson as he asked in a very calm tone. "Are you questioning how I handle things, Wesson?"

"N-no, I don't think--"

"Good, because without my careful planning we could have lost a lot more than one cargo ship." The Cowl stated defiantly, striding past the bigger man to the waiting limo. "Now, I trust that the party has already begun?"

"Most of the guests have already arrived." Wesson said, walking alongside The Cowl with a clipboard. "Gang cells from all over the city have appeared, the Syndicate still stands fairly strong, even with the inclusion of superhuman interference."

"Of course, there were a few absences, I trust?" The Cowl asked, a few of the thugs around him moving ahead to open the car door for him. 

"That's where the interference comes in, boss." Wesson sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I know Mr. Stone could not make it, something about one of the places he shakes down fighting back."

"Is Mr. Stone attacking the defenseless again?"

"It keeps the revenue coming in."

“No it doesn’t, but that’s his problem.” Cowl muttered. “I offered him my advice, and as long as he continues to kick up to us, I suppose he can do what he likes. Is there anyone else missing the party tonight?”

“A few, Bulldog and Johnson are both pre-occupied in protecting your territory in Little Sicily, there are a few others dealing with possible heat down in the Financial District.”

“Fair enough, everyone else made it to the festivities tonight, then?”

“They’re already enjoying themselves back at your estate. Everyone is eagerly waiting for your arrival.”

“Then we should not keep them waiting, shall we?”