[center][h1][b][color=dodgerblue]Wards:[/color] How Do You Like Your Coffee?[/b][/h1]
[@Old Amsterdam][@Gardevoiran][@Lugubrious][@yoshua171][@BCTheEntity][/center]

The alert came in early in the morning, a few minutes before 6 am. Each of the Wards, the four established members and their newest fifth recruit, received a written message on their Protectorate communicators. Whether or not they were ready for the day was irrelevant, as it beeped and beeped with an alert to force their attention. Once retrieved, the communicator relayed a hologram of a written message, which felt unusual. Decoy normally provided audio messages accompanied by a hologram of his body, meaning something was definitely off. 
[i][color=cyan][b]Warning: Do not speak any of the following out loud.[/b] Emergency mission for the Wards, approved by Decoy. Details to follow. Meet at the Little Owl Cafe ASAP in civilian clothing. Tiger Lily will provide crucial details on what could be the most important mission of your whole careers.[/color][/i]

And that was it. Most critical mission ever? Sounded important. With a public meeting off the books, civilian clothes, and the rest of the cloak and dagger stuff, this certainly came across as serious, if not also somewhat sketchy. What exactly was going on?
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The Little Owl Cafe certainly lived up to its name. While there were a high number of online reviews praising the place, it was certainly… Cozy, one could say. A fairly small hole in the wall location which would endear it to the locals, or tourists wanting to get that “local experience,” the interior decor was nothing too impressive, yet held a charm all its own. A small drink serving station along with cash register stood perpendicular to the back wall along the left hand side when you came in the entrance. Immediately to the right stood a corner V-shaped bar for sitting and drinking, while a single long table sat in the middle of the room, a bookshelf along the right side wall. The back wall was largely left unused, but decorated in a white/gray marble pattern. Altogether a small, quaint little coffee shop.

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[center][h1][b][color=red]The Jacks:[/color] First Class Ticket to Fame[/b][/h1]
[@yoshua171][@BCTheEntity][@Eklispe][@Old Amsterdam][@Crusader Lord][img]https://assets.simpleviewcms.com/simpleview/image/upload/c_fill,h_645,q_50,w_1024/v1/clients/denver/DIA_Credit_VISIT_DENVER_1a9d48a1-528c-4912-b97f-f8233fd96734.jpg[/img]
[img]https://www.amesconstruction.com/img/project-images/139im6.jpg[/img]
[img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/9/90/Blucifer_Sculpture.png/200px-Blucifer_Sculpture.png[/img][/center]
Denver International Airport. DIA for short. Being a central hub for air travel in the United States allowed it to grow and prosper until it became the largest airport in the entire country, including the longest plane runway. With nonstop service to more than 205 international locations 24/7, nobody could doubt how vital and important a role it has to the United States infrastructure. Near the entrance stands the iconic Blue Mustang statue, or “Blucifer,” as the locals call it. The evil horse which killed its creator before being placed, having fallen on him. A portent of things to come, perhaps. Then again, that is exactly why the Jacks were tasked with maintaining a presence at this most important travel hub.

With reports of a possible class A villain attack, the Broker assigned the team with protecting the airport at all costs. It was not difficult to understand why he would want such a goal accomplished. If he were half the businessman he appeared to be, he would have been highly reliant on the airport’s success. As long as it remained standing, he continued business. As long as he continued business, the Jacks would still be funded. It was a decision based in logic and self-preservation, albeit one which would have drastic positive consequences for the citizenship at large.

What was not so easy to understand was how the Broker knew, fifteen days in advance, that a class A threat would be attacking the airport. He did not appear to have any thinker powers himself, or at least any thinker powers that would help divine the future. It made no sense to risk endangering his own profit margins and stop said risk with his own people. Then again, it was apparent he had many employees outside of the Jacks themselves. Could one of them be a thinker capable of determining the future? Such a power was indeed a tremendous asset, ones the Jacks could make use of themselves. Alas, better to focus on the task at hand.

7:14 a.m. and all was quiet. Well, as quiet as you could be in a constantly jam-packed airport, but still, no signs on the outskirts of any trouble. Not yet, anyway. And the outskirts was indeed where the team of villains currently was, as getting closer could prove to be… Troublesome. Sans Alloy, all were on the city’s most wanted list, something the airport would no doubt have been 100% informed of. Naturally they could leave their costumes behind, but that presented its own problem if and when the threat reared up and they had to take it down. Not to mention Raymond relied on weapons that he had little hope of sneaking past security. What to do indeed?