Morgan nearly jumped out of her skin when the other woman ran over with a tablet. Her wings almost came out involuntarily, but she caught herself just in time. It'd be a shame to shred her top, at any rate.

She relaxed, though, when the other woman began working to help her. "Relaxed" was a relative term, considering the two of them were trying to disarm a deadly chemical weapon together, but you have to take what you can get in this situations. Morgan took a moment to glance over the melee. The Raiders seemed to be getting the worst of it, by far- here a car mowed down a group of them, there more were cut down by heavy bullets.

And all the while the countdown ticked on unabated.

After what seemed like an eternity, punctuated by gunshots and the cries of wounded, the newcomer announced she had reconfigured the timer to accept the captive's fingerprint. Unwilling to speak and knowing the mask would muffle her voice, Morgan flashed a thumbs up with one slender hand, then grunted as he strained to lift the dead weight of the limp man's hand to the terminal. She pressed his thumb against the screen, heart in her throat as she waited to see what effect it might have.

COUNTDOWN SUSPENDED

She wanted to jump for joy and scream, but instead settled for a satisfied nod. The danger was far from passed, though. Someone could easily detonate the weapon remotely, or even a few stray rounds might puncture the seal. With that in mind, she took up her baton once more, crouched down and looking for a more permanent solution to the problem.