[centre][h2]VTOL[/h2]
[h1]Approaching Dorchester[/h1]
[sub]21st January, 2011[/sub][/centre]

“Well,” Gestalt said with a reassuring smile, “you don’t really get powers without being damaged goods.”

A voice cut in over the radio, from the cockpit. “Speaking of, we’re just about there. Get ready.”

Meanwhile, on the ground, Pipeline had just finished his little display when he noticed the incoming Protectorate VTOL. His eyes narrowed. “You just don’t listen, do ya? I told you I’d deal with them [b]myself[/b]!” he roared out to the heavens, before throwing a glob of acid directly at the VTOL’s left motor. 

It ate through the hardened steel as though it were paper, and the vehicle suddenly tilted and began losing altitude. 

“What the-” cried the pilot. “Oh, shit. Brace for impact!”

The sudden lurch to the side threw Septima across the passenger compartment, as she scowled and considered how bad today had been.

And it wasn’t even lunchtime. 

[@Banana][@PlatinumSkink]

[hr]

[centre][h2]The Consortium Corporate Headquarters: Alverton Building
[/h2]
[h1]Downtown Boston[/h1]
[sub]21st January, 2011[/sub][/centre]


Maxwell accepted the drink, praying it was stronger than the one he had poured himself. 

At this rate, he was going to need it.

“I’m afraid our current intel on this group is basically non-existent. As such, wandering around is about all I can ask you to do. The chaos between Gladius and Wonderland may be enough to draw them out, given how much of a problem they seem to have with the gangland way of thinking in this city, but I can’t be sure.”

“If I were you, I’d begin there. If nothing else, I expect them to be watching.” 

[@ProPro][@FancyHats][@hagroden]

[hr]

[centre][h2]PRT Base[/h2]
[h1]Boston[/h1]
[sub]21st January, 2011[/sub][/centre]

A rather interesting letter landed on the desk of the PRT Director in Boston, which marked the second in a day. Given how unusual an occurrence this actually was, she wasted no time in thumbing the envelope open and taking a look inside. 

Glancing over the written text with her eyebrows raising a little more with each passing line, she reached the end and gently laid the letter back onto her desk.

She sighed, long, drawn-out and utterly fed up. “I need a vacation,” she said to the empty room.

[hr]

[centre][h2]Gladius Base[/h2]
[h1]Brookline[/h1]
[sub]21st January, 2011[/sub][/centre]

After reading a letter from one of the newer resident crazy people in the city, Whetstone wondered just what she had planned. 

And just what she wanted.

From the sound of things, the author was capable of controlling diseases and bacteria. That could come in extremely handy. Taking out a pen and turning the page over, she began to scribble. 

[i]Toxic,

I believe the two of us could enter into a rather mutually beneficial arrangement. If you are interested, leave the details with the foot soldier attached to this letter.

Yours,
Whetstone.[/i]

[i]Now then, Sickle,[/i] she thought, [i]let’s see you handle a new kind of biological warfare.[/i]

[@Old Amsterdam]