When scanned, the intercepted message had, contained in its coding, a set of coordinates. London, England, Earth. Further detail showed that the destination was on the street, in the open. Ellis studied maps of the location. There was an underground network, like a rat nest, under the city. Ellis had never heard of such a thing! A very interesting investigation, at the least.

[i]How odd[/i], Ellis thought as he watched the Subway entrance on Baker Street, the terminal nearest his destination. [i]No one entering, no one leaving[/i]. Old steel gates, once painted, now hang, rusted and tarnished, forgotten relics of a primitive era. To even imagine such a proud race as humanity once crawling under the dirt like a worm felt almost heretical. But it was truth. And it was truth that Ellis was hoping to find, truth in the intercepted coordinates, truth in a second chance, or truth in himself. His first truth lay in the darkness under London.

The night air was stiff and cold, but Ellis felt none of this, nor the wind that cut through London like the Ripper's ghost. There were no pedestrians in the area, not even a security drone, or a lonely cop watched the station. This could mean one of two things. Either this was simply a typically deserted area, or this street was empty for a reason. Ellis assumed the second, and drew his sidearm. The matte-black coat was specially layered to soften sounds, and the click of the safety was muffled to a tiny rustle. This would do nothing for a shot, however, so Ellis was careful to make a mental note to be neither seen nor heard if possible.

He dropped from one of the oak trees decoratively planted along the sidewalk, boots leaving deep imprints in the loamy English soil. He set his Talon back into its holster and shot across the street like a shadow. The chain on the terminal gate was no matter. A single Throw was enough to break its brittle links. Slipping inside, he debated on whether or not to close the gate. He decided, [i]Why bother?[/i] and left one open, offset by less than an inch. 

He waited to see light as he made his way down to the designated location, listened for voices, monitored his comm. scanner for stray transmissions, but there was nothing.

It seems that this is the place. Nothing but dust, old rubble, and rusted stacks of ancient steel. The steady [i]drip drip drip[/i] of water echoes through the room. The voice filter buzzes as Ellis calls out. "I know you're here. Show yourself." His voice bounces down the tunnel. No response. Still suspicious, Ellis draws his sidearm and searches the area. 

[i]I know these are the coordinates. This is it.[/i] There is no one here. Could he have been mistaken? He Pulls a stack of old brick and stone into a rough seat, and sits, and waits. Hidden in the shadows in armor that reflects almost no light, one hand on his pistol, Ellis Taevon readies himself for an ambush that would never come.