John B waved Mag's forward when she appeared. Good girl, hard worker and top notch stress relief when the finer points of his work began to encroach on his emotional well being. Perfect example of how hard work reaped rewards in his company. It would be a stretch to think that these folk of the ash [i]catch[/i] on to the obedience. Johnny knew these lost sheep needed a Shepard. Ignorant to the joy and power of wealth, only used to this baser living off of whatever scraps the humans had left behind. There was a world beyond this poverty and filth. He'd lead them there, kicking and screaming if he had to.

Or in slave collars, wishing they had taken the offer. If they were stupid enough to ignore his offer the mighty Wanderers would serve as a reminder to the rest of the ash he placed under his boot-heel of what arbitrary things like 'values' and 'ego' earned you when one found themselves faced with an unstoppable force.

Johnny's eyes followed the screaming child as she rushed forward. Spunky little shit. His secretary had stopped her, but not before receiving a wooden stake to her arm. Johnny's teeth clacked together in amusement. She showed some potential. Wouldn't need too much training to be turned into a killer. Pain was apparent and pain  was something he could capitalize on. 

Kids were easy enough to control. Even the strange ones. 

Drake spoke up, the one with the wings, it drew his attention, not because he was talking, but because of what came out of his mouth. Some ideological bullshit, musing about something the boy obviously didn't understand.

[color=yellow]"Slavery, AH." "You speak like those academics begging for a handout from whichever ignorant Lord finds their prattling 'interesting.[/color] John grew breathless. running his hand through his slick backed hair. [color=yellow]"No this is living a life where you earn for yourself instead of digging through human hand me downs. This is SELF RE FUCKING SPECT.[/color]

[color=yellow]"Don't tell me you don't want some R E S P E C T, Drake. Don't tell me you don't want to work for the company that own the air you're breathing, the ground beneath your feet. Don't tell me you're stupid, you don't look stupid, not stupid like Toby here, who thinks he speaks for ALL of you"[/color] 

He knew all their names. Their history. No expense had been spared on that.

He also wanted the brothers. A lot of money in them. Good pair to build a little branch of snatch and grab off of. Worst came to worst tho, he'd just slap a collar on them both and sell them to some Lady who wanted some pretty looking lap dogs. 


[color=yellow]"[i]You[/i] got the memo, you know what a once in a shitty existence digging for scraps offer this is. Tell your friends, tell stutters over here that there's more to life than whatever he has going on."[/color]

Wait. 

[color=yellow]"Drake, you said something. Freedom. Let me tell you something. Freedom belongs to those who have power. Freedom is what people like me have. Winners. When you live life like a loser, freedom is always in someone else hands. Your freedom is in my hands, because I'm the guy with power. You ain't anything, until you have power."[/color]

That's when that ash rat he had ignored before yelled. 

As if a rat would dare to interrupt a King.

It was that arrogance that removed any fear of death from Sweet Johnny as Specter threw the object into his vicinity. 

All he did was jut his chin forward in defiance. 

The flashbang did little. Shades paid for by top dollar went beyond a little bit of gold. 

That didn't stop him from snapping his fingers, high above his head. Johnny's men reacted immediately, the armoured truck behind him hissed as hydraulic doors opened, loosing professionals from its innards, met by those who had been lurking in the trees. 

They were fitted like private security officers. Ballistic and energy resilient vests, visors that put old world night vision goggles to shame with their ability to switch between the spheres of vision. 

Their weapons were set to stun, because to John, their lives were expendable in the face of capturing the Wanderers alive. 

Why would they accept? To them, nix powers, the job was easy and the pay was [i]fantastic.[/i] 

Now, that wasn't to say they wouldn't switch to the kill setting to save their own skin, only that option one was tag and bag. 

They advanced through the smoke, some pursuing Specter, slow and steady. Some flanked the house, a detachment moved to sweep the premises, their aim to leave no crevice unchecked. There was a bonus for those who managed to capture the Wanders, and that bonus was generous.