Mitch blinked, and shook her head to a room where nobody could see. Chosen breaking ranks, odds dwindling, more and more lines converging in unfavorable directions. She swallowed, and kept tapping away at her machines. Amity and Saika had surged on ahead, but the team would not be so divided for long. Mitch tapped her com into the Blessed channel again, a new steel in her voice. [b][color=#96c2f2]"The body count is rising- [i]Three,[/i] now."[/color][/b] She cleared her throat. The evacuation alarms were still droning on in the endangered sector, and a few adjustments to the traffic grid on Mitch's end assured that nobody else would be coming in behind the team, at least not in a car.

[b][color=#96c2f2]"I've also fixed the lights for a few blocks around you- I'm rerouting any inbounders to keep bodies out of the way."[/color][/b] Her eyes, owlish and tracking like a security turret behind their lenses, let on to far more of concern than her voice. There was nobody left to send after them if things went south- the security forces could not leave the gates weak, and the remainder of forces were on deployment. Normal police would just be flesh against something like this, and possibly tripping stones among chaos. [b][color=#96c2f2]"Good luck, and gods be with you."[/color][/b]

-----

Maeve breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She put her hands in her lap, folded. Then she fidgeted to shift the way she was sitting, and her hands found their way to her seat belt. [i]Unclick. Click.[/i] She pulled at the edges of her gym shorts. Then, hands back in the lap. Her green eyes skimmed back and forth with a motion akin to reading as her gaze fixed on a spot out the window and followed it for a moment as they passed. It was an oddly nice day to go full-on Saturday morning cartoon on some 6'6" bitch, she thought.

She leaned back to look at the ceiling, flickered with a light on the roof. Someone cleared their throat. Her gaze and hands fell back into her lap. 

Morgan was across from her. Weird kid. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe "we got this," perhaps, but nothing came out. She covered it with a cough, which gave her hands something else to do. She nodded to the disembodied voice, and cast a glance around when Clifton spoke. When she landed on Oren, she did manage to choke out, [b][color=#c4422b]"I'm on you."[/color][/b] What she really meant to say was, "I'm with you, on your mark." She didn't say that, and gave Silvarae a squeeze on the shoulder instead of horribly mangling the phrase "We can do this, but please don't run away on us." 

The road wasn't peeling away fast enough. If this truck went any fucking slower, she was going to- 

They stopped. 

[i]Thank the fucking gods,[/i] they stopped. 

Maeve was standing as soon as she felt the parking break, and out the door before Clifton could even get it all the way open. Because Odin in an omelette, she was going to lose it if she sat in that sardine can for another fifteenth of a second. She caught sight of Makorai's flare, and definitely heard him. 

Good- make the thing come to you. A fair fight on even footing was better than some running around nonsense. [b][color=#c4422b]"We gonna do- Um."[/color][/b] She looked to Oren, who seemed to know something about this. [b][color=#c4422b]"Your call, boss."[/color][/b]