{Drake, I have Paragon transmitting on emergency frequency delta-alpha-four....opening wav.file...} Jym's voice announced, an brief crackle following. It was immediately replaced with the voice of VE's founder. {Marshall! What's your situation?}
"Can't talk now, Doctor...." he replied to the cell-link attached to his left ear, circling back away from Mueller.
{Well, whatever's going on, it's getting the Brood's attention!}
"What?"
{We've detected the main swarm heading your way....they altered their immediate course about three minutes ago....}
"Position?"
{Twelve miles north, and closing at roughly seventy-miles-an-hour....I've gotten word to the authorities to stay clear of your position, and to begin evacuation of the northern edge of the city....}
"Dammit...." Drake murmured. "....it's got to be Mueller.....he's atttacting them...."
{There is no way I can have our contingency device ready in less than forty-minutes.....add travel-time to your location....}
"I copy." Drake nodded. "Best possible speed.....we'll hold the line...."
{Transmission wav.file closing} Jym announced.
Seven seconds.
That's all it took.
Synapses fire, neurons channeling signals near the speed of light. Patterns link, lock, and form.
Two seconds for three passive-combat scenarios. A third for sixteen aggressive ones.
Three seconds for assessement of speed, strength, tactical potential, and calculative ratios of damage control given the immediate group of players.
One second to measure defense strategies, and extraneous weak points concerning the power level of the team.
Seven seconds. And, Drake Marshall's brain synched into a tactical machine....
"Gaunt, Sidewinder!" he yelled. "Meet the swarm head-on! All possible measures! Jym, relay coordinates!"
Gaunt nodded once, folding his body into the shadows in a single back-step. Simultaneously, a ball of exhaust exploded from Icarus, launching him across the night sky.
"Ozzy, Lykopis, Mueller's yours!"
The indestructible boxer and the greek warrior queen began slowly circling the deformed creature.
"Adem, you and I will handle those two!" Drake ordered, pointing towards the figures lumbering out the front of the decimated home.
"We will?"
"Yes, Adem...." he replied, cocking his sword. "....we will."
"I am not much of a fighter, Drake..." Adem added.
"Then, you had better learn fast...." Marshall said. "....armor-up.....now....."
