Allen was still in the same position with his face in his hands as Jay approached the bench. Caitlyn immediately shied away, placing her face in to her father's arm. He slowly looked up, and then peered over at his daughter. "There's an outbreak going on... Infected are roaming all around, I think. The military quarantined this entire airport and we were forced in here." Caitlyn simply lifted her head at the mention of 'infected', as if she were linked to the word in some way. "It'll pass by, I hope. I'm just dreading to see what Vegas looks like..." Allen stood up and gave his daughter a small pat on the head before he sighed heavily, as if he were nearly out of breath. "You don't need to get your hopes up about leaving the airport until the quarantine is lifted, buddy. I'm Allen, by the way. Allen Staymore" He then gestured back towards Caitlyn, who surprisingly kept her face in view this time. "and this is my daughter, Caitlyn."

"You just landed in this chaos, didn't you? How's that for a warm Los Angeles welcome?" Allen spoke, attempting to lighten the situation in the least bit. "I've heard of stuff like this in movies and video games, but this is crazy, you know?"

Myztii raised a brow crossing her arms as she moved a bit closer and sat near him, resisting the urge to ask about the camera he set out. "...Todd huh? Just because that's what everyone calls you doesn't mean that it is your name.."

She pulled her bag around her to sit it in front of her legs on the floor. She opened it up and pulled her own equipment out. She put her Canon EOS 5D Mark III on the floor carefully and then pulled her Canon Vixia HF R40 camcorder on the floor next to it. Though the bag she used wasn't a typical camera bag. She kept a backpack type bag with her at all times thanks to the unusual places she tends to find herself in while taking her photos.

From the bag she pulled out a small first aid kit, a few bottles of water, some flavor packets for the water because really- who wants to drink plain water all the time? She also pulled a few yogurt bars and snack bags of chips from the bag, extra batteries and SD cards for her cameras, a box that held a flashlight, batteries, and a compass. Myztii also pulled out a small wooden box that had a lock on it.

"As for what people call me, my name is Myztii.. So since we're obviously stuck here for a while, why don't you tell me what you're doing here at LAX?"

Apparently there was some kind of outbreak spreading throughout Los Angeles, or at least, that is what Jay gathered from the man. After the brief news flash, the man introduced himself as Allen. "What kind of outbreak? Like flu or something?" He asked, "I'm Jason by the way, everyone just calls me Jay though". The man briefly introduced his daughter, "nice to meet you" he said in a softer tone. "Yeah I came from..." Jay paused for a moment, "Ohio and there was nothing significant happening there". When the man mentioned seeing 'things like this in movies and video games' Jay wondered just what exactly was happening. "It seems pretty crazy. I heard a gunshot a little bit ago, and the crowds of course." Jay was lying through his teeth earlier, when he said he was from Ohio. He hoped that the man would not pick up on that slight pause.

When Aaron's plane lifted off in Minnesota, there were people with coughs, but that was it. That was the only thing that stuck out in his mind. Am I infected? How contagious is this fucking thing? Jay thought as he waited for a response from the man. When the plane ascended from the airport, there was still no significant news regarding an infection or outbreak of any kind. Maybe if there were not gunshots, panicking mobs, and a quarantine, Jay would have not believed this man. But everything around him pointed to something big happening. All things considered, it was pretty calm since the gunshot rang out. Hopefully that was a good thing.

Allen gave a nod to him as he mention his name. "It's real nice to meet you. Every one here is on edge, and it's really tense." As he peered back to Caitlyn momentarily, Allen let a small groan out as if he were stretching. "No real news has got out of it yet... All I know is that people are bitten, and they are turned. At least, that is what I've saw. I'm not for sure." That was when Caitlyn, who has been silent beforehand, spoke.

"How much time do I have, daddy?"

The words rang through Allen's ears and forever implanted themselves in his head. He stared at Jay, nodding frantically. "Just uh... don't worry about her, alright? She's kinda concerned about the whole situation, y'know?" The poor man scratched his head worriedly as Caitlyn stared at him, her dark green eyes just as beady as ever. "Look, we'll have to talk in private sometime, Jay, if that is okay with you." Allen spoke as he sat back down beside his daughter and placed his arm around her. "Everything's gonna be okay, Cait..."

"I'm here for a convention. I was supposed to be heading home today. Oh well. I guess I'll just have my homecoming celebration here...". He lifted the film canisters, checking the weight until he deemed one satisfactory. Upon opening it, he extracted a packet of cigarette papers and a green ball of plant material, covered in orange hairs. He muttered as he pulled it apart. "To... Seattle." He finished one quickly, but continued, rolling another one each time he finished one. "So, I've told you what I'm here for... why don't you tell me... why you're here? You're not a traveler, I don't think. You a local?" He finished ten rolled white cylinders, and put one in his mouth. He also held one out to Myztii. "Here. It's on the house."

EDIT: OOC post in the IC thread. Again.

She shook her head, declining politely. She looked up from her equipment as she picked up the digital camera. "Oh no, I'm not a local at all.. And I wouldn't quite call myself a traveler. I'm here on a trip to Del Rey Lagoon Park, it just so happens that I specialize in photography. I snagged some out of this world shots of great whites in the area!" Her eyes lit up a bit as she smiled, glancing down to the camera screen. "Photography is my entire life.. You see, I'm a student in Jacksonville specializing wildlife photography and these shots could be my ticket to a very nice life ahead of me."

She frowned a bit putting the camera back on the floor and leaned back on her hands with a sigh. "I was supposed to be on my way home by now, but whatever is going on out there has all the flights cancelled. Go figure." She paused, jumping slightly as another stranger tried to open the bathroom door, beating on it a bit before moving on. She relaxed a bit looking to the door though her frown deepened. "I just want to get home to my brother.. What on Earth is going on out there.."

"Photography... Makes a shit career." Joe lit a match from his pocket and held the flame to the joint in his mouth. "Believe me, I know all about it. Companies don't want to pay for serene wildlife photos, or photos of peace and happiness. They want war. They want men with guns. They want gritty survival stories. You know, I watched a man get split in half from machine gun fire? The hell of it is, he was still alive. Trying to put his own guts back in. Of course, he'd bled out by the time we got to him." Joe lifted his baton, and smashed it shut against the tile floor. "It was... depressing, to say the absolute least. I got to know people who were nothing more than drones in America's ant army. Blown to bits here and there, and no one says anything about it." He'd almost finished his first joint by now, and it showed. He made more unnecessary hand motions, more head-bobbing, and was getting more and more heated. "I don't know... It's just not good unless you can get past all of that. If you stick with it, well done. Great job. If not, you're a normal human being."

He stood up, a little shaky, and made his way to the door. He put his ear up to it. "More commotion. I've seen things like this before. If you don't hunker down, you get caught in it. Then you get blown up by a cashier in a stylish new bomb belt. Or you get hit with a phone bomb on the subway. Or, gunned down by the most reasonable terrorist on the planet. I'm getting ahead of myself." He stepped back from the door again, and returned to his spot. "Once we start hearing gunfire, we're not gonna move, alright? We're gonna stay here until it's over. Then we're gonna move in and claim anything useful left over. Especially if we can drag a couple of those M240s in here. Do you have a weapon? You'll need one. We don't have the supplies to treat a critical injury. We may have to euthanize." He grinned to himself slightly. "I've been praying for a break. A big break. This could be what I need."

He turned toward Myztii. "I'm gonna get you back to your brother, alright? By the time you reach him, the world'll know your name. And mine."

Myztii looked to Todd with a blank expression listening to him describe the war scenes that he had been. The battles, gore, and destruction that laid in wake of what was happening all over the world. She shook her head, what a waste of human life.. to fight so pointlessly. She laid back, using her empty bag as a pillow and watched him smoke. "Luckily for me, wildlife may be my specialty, but there is a war waging in the animal kingdom, too. For example, the shots I got of the great whites.. They are of the sharks attacking and tearing into one another due to territory issues. It's pretty crazy stuff. I'm just thankful I was in a cage, or I would have been a total gonner.."

She paused sitting up on her arms as continued to talk. "A weapon, no not really.. but I did take some martial arts courses, so I'm good with hand to hand.. and I'm fair with daggers and blades, if needed.." She sat up at the mention of Grevin and did her best to keep her features blank, though worry crept in. Her eyes darkened a bit as moisture glistened over her eyes but refused to fall. "Todd, do you think whatever is happening here is local? I mean LAX is a pretty big place to go into such chaos.. What if its a terrorist thing or something? What if by the time you can get me back to Grevin, that Jacksonville will even be the same? We're all the way across the country and without the planes, getting home isn't gonna be easy you know.."

Olivia saw that Moot preferred to take the stealthier option, so she waited until Moot disappeared into the jet bridge before she went. Moot successfully went by without attracting any attention, so now it was Olivia's turn. She took her phone, got out of the restaurant as inconspicuously as she could, and saw that none of the soldiers were interested in her, and that blockhead guarding the grenades was still having his smoke. It all seemed too easy, and Olivia was able to sneak into the jet bridge without attracting any unwanted attention. Advertisements for travel plans and airline offers lined the hall in the jet bridge, but Olivia saw no sight of Moot. She got to the door at the end of the jet bridge, which led outside to stairs that led down to the ground, and still no punkish-looking Russian woman in sight.

She opened the door and went outside onto the stairs, into the dark of the night, only to see that the soldier guarding the grenades had spotted her, and it looked like he was calling to the other soldiers in the terminal. They headed into the jet bridge, so Olivia made her way down the stairs as fast as she could. She disappeared under the jet bridge, getting into the shadows where the light coming from the terminal windows did not reach. She watched as the guards came down the stairs of the jet bridge, and with flashlights attached to their rifles. Olivia made her way along the walls of the terminal, under the windows. She then went behind a baggage carrier, hidden from both the light of the terminal and the soldiers outside. From there, she was then able to hide inside a large shipping container, with both ends of it open. She could not see inside it, so that was good for her, or so she thought.

The next thing on her mind was where Moot went. Deep down, Olivia wondered why she was trusting a stranger with escaping. What if Moot lured her outside to kill her?

"It looks like things are still escalating out there. The good news is that they aren't gonna get better. That gives us the option to further our own agendas."

"How about this... we do what we can to screw up the situation in the airport as much as possible. If we can get everyone out, we'll be free to access the planes. Maybe we can find a pilot, even. But in the meantime, we have to empty the airport. And for that, we need a plan. I vote we break into the security room and secure tear gas grenades and flashbangs. The soldiers outside are packing serious guns, as well as M67 high explosive hand grenades. We use the nonlethal weapons to get ahold of those, and cause as much of a panic as possible. Honestly, at this point, it doesn't matter what the disaster is. They'll be safer if they're scattered. So, two birds, one stone: we'll be dispersing them, as well as emptying the airport."

Joe shrugged and cocked an eyebrow, a small grin on his face. "What do you think?" He leaned closer and said softly, "We can both go home. You can see your brother again. Isn't that what you want?"

Harrison continued to drink his whisky amongst the chaos in the airport terminal. He was enjoying the succulent taste of the honey in the drink when he realized that his basic osmoregulation system has started pestering him. He has to take a piss. Harrison gives a sigh of frustration and places the whisky bottle back into his internal jacket pocket. He stood up from the restaurant and went onto the terminal floor looking around for the toilets. Everywhere he can see, the public toilets were queued up and occupied like mice to cheese. The toilets in the fast food restaurant behind him had a coded lock on them and a worn out sign that says: “Ask staff for use”. Harrison didn’t want to go to the bother of asking and the staff probably doesn’t give two shits.

He then started to think outside the box and think where there would be toilets that no one would think to use. He then noticed on the far side of the terminal building, a door that reads: “Staff only toilets”. Harrison then started to make his way towards the toilets. His only worry is that it is locked but amongst the mess that is this ‘police state’, remembering to lock the door behind them isn’t probably there biggest problem. Plus no one is going notice Harrison go into the staff toilets. Mass disorder is the greatest hiding spot known to man.

Harrison reached the door to the staff toilets and tried the door handle. It was open. Harrison slowly opened the door and took a peek inside. The whole bathroom was vacant. This was pleasing to Harrison as he walks up to one the empty urinals and unzips his trousers. He then gave a sigh of relief as he empties his fireman into the drainage of the urinal below. He zips up his trousers and turns himself to the sink to wash his hands. While sanitizing his hands he noticed at the side of the sink, a set of keys. In bewilderment, Harrison picked up the set of keys and analyzed them. The keys had the names of rooms on them. It must be a set of staff keys that gives access to most of the personnel rooms in the terminal. The only question that remains is: Where is the owner of the keys?

In alarming suspicion, Harrison looks behind him in the direction of the stalls. One of the stalls was locked and some feet can be seen from Harrison’s point of view. It seems the bathroom wasn't as vacant as he thought. He then started to walk slowly towards the stall with caution. He then got on his hands and knees and looked under the stall. The man appeared to have been puking into the toilet, due to the stale vomit around it. He was also in military uniform. It must be one of the soldiers from outside. The set of keys by the sink must be his.

“Are you all right?” Asked Harrison. The man doesn't look well and he might need medical attention. The man then quickly turned his head towards the bottom of the stall door where he could see Harrison. However, the man wasn't himself. His eyes were a reddening bloodshot, his veins were disgustingly noticeable and his teeth were growling like a rabid dog. From the look in his eyes, it wasn't a ‘his’ anymore. Harrison didn't what it was.

The man then tried to attack Harrison by leaping aggressively towards the bottom of the stall door. His shivering hand and top part of his body were sticking out of the stall door. This made Harrison jump back in great fear. His natural reaction to back off quickly caused the glass whisky bottle in his pocket fall out; it did not break on impact with floor. Harrison pushed himself back towards the sinks. All he could was stare at him or it. He was paralyzed with fear, his adrenaline pounding as the former soldier started to gnarl and growl like a demented demon dog.

The thing started to wiggle its way out from under the toilet door and Harrison had no form of defensive. He looks around anxiously for some sort of weapon but the only thing available was the glass whisky bottle on the floor beside him. With no other ideas he picks up the bottle and smashes it against the wall beside him to create a sharp tool to stab it. Harrison has never killed anyone before. Well, not intentionally anyway. The man managed to free himself from under the stall door and made a leap for Harrison. Harrison quickly raised the broken glass bottle at him and closed his eyes. All he could hear was some sort of gasp and all he could feel was some mighty force pushing against his hand. When he opened his eyes the bottle jammed in its throat and it seemed to have it. Harrison moved the bottle to the side, along with…whatever it was. He then got up and darted himself to the sink to wash the blood of his hands. His hands were shaking with horror. He then unintentionally vomited into the sink below.
He has never seen anything like this. He was doctor for nearly two decades and has seen or read on all manner of horrid plagues that roam this earth but this? What is this new type of infection? Harrison wiped his mouth of the vomit and dried his hands with a nearby towel. He looked at the infected body and analyzed it. No disease on earth could this and If the military outside is barricading the terminal for this then we are going to need more guns. Then a horrible, frightening and terrifying thought came to mind. If the infection has already arrived at the airport, then everyone is dead. Harrison grabs the keys and walks out of the bathroom. Before walking off, he quickly locks the door. If the disease is airborne then anyone else finding body might get infected. Harrison might be infected as well but it is still unknown if the disease is airborne, that doesn't mean he can’t take precautions.

After locking the door frantically but successfully, he started walking off onto the floor of the terminal. He had to get out of LAX fast. Disease in a close-quarters environment is not safe. While walking he started looking around the terminal for some sort of exit but before he could pinpoint one, his thoughts raced back to the infected body and he had to go vomit. He then noticed some public bathrooms nearby and rushed towards them with the hope that they were empty. As he opened the door, he accidentally bumped into a man and his daughter.
“I’m terribly sorry”, apologizes Harrison. The man and the daughter face him. “My mind is elsewhere.” He had good reason to be. Himself and everyone in the airport is in danger.

Moot's apparent disappearance was not so much the result of her stealth or any acts of selfish desertion as it was the inherent, subconscious refusal of people to look up unless prompted. As Olivia nervously scrambled through the morning shadows to an open shipping container the Russian acrobat grinned broadly in amusement, looking on from the top of the jet bridge, her long legs dangling comically down either side. Were her vocal chords not broken she would have laughed, though the collection of soldiers now emerging from the door suggested this was fortunate. Klara repositioned herself so as to lie low, close to the roof of the jet bridge as she watched.

Moot had taken this position so as to gain a better concept of the land ahead, having spotted what looked like people in the distance. She couldn't quite see what they were doing but it appear many were lying down or hunched over, which given recent events made her nervous. However they could have been the missing members of her troupe or at least Daniel - She would have to investigate. But that would have to wait until the soldiers were gone.
Klara lowered herself down the side of the jet bridge skillfully before making a silent drop onto the ground below, crouching. She swiftly padded towards the container and, it being too dark for her to see if Olivia was still there, tapped rhythmically on its edge.

Moot's apparent disappearance was not so much the result of her stealth or any acts of selfish desertion as it was the inherent, subconscious refusal of people to look up unless prompted. As Olivia nervously scrambled through the morning shadows to an open shipping container the Russian acrobat grinned broadly in amusement, looking on from the top of the jet bridge, her long legs dangling comically down either side. Were her vocal chords not broken she would have laughed, though the collection of soldiers now emerging from the door suggested this was fortunate. Klara repositioned herself so as to lie low, close to the roof of the jet bridge as she watched.

Moot had taken this position so as to gain a better concept of the land ahead, having spotted what looked like people in the distance. She couldn't quite see what they were doing but it appear many were lying down or hunched over, which given recent events made her nervous. However they could have been the missing members of her troupe or at least Daniel - She would have to investigate. But that would have to wait until the soldiers were gone.
Klara lowered herself down the side of the jet bridge skillfully before making a silent drop onto the ground below, crouching. She swiftly padded towards the container and, it being too dark for her to see if Olivia was still there, tapped rhythmically on its edge.

When asked about the infection, the only real information that Allen gave was that people who were bitten were turned. Just as Jay opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted by the young girl. "How much time do I have, daddy?" She asked. She could have been talking about anything, but considering the current circumstances, Jay assumed the worst. He assumed that she was bitten, and that meant that she was potentially dangerous. Jay did not know how dangerous she could be, because he knew next to nothing about the infection or infected. He just assumed it was bad by the military's reaction.

"Just uh... don't worry about her, alright? She's kinda concerned about the whole situation, y'know?" Allen said to Jay, regarding Caitlyn. "Look, we'll have to talk in private sometime, Jay, if that is okay with you." Jay just nodded in silence before looking at the girl for a moment. "People do whatever it takes for their family. I understand that." Jay patted Allen on the shoulder before looking around at the gathering soldiers and people. "Didn't think this is how my first day in Los Angeles would go, but at least I'm meeting the locals", he laughed for a brief moment "funny how things turn out, huh?"

"Yeah... I'm not really a local. I moved here around two years ago. I never saw any of the locals this hysterical though. You'd think World War Three was setting its course for Los Angeles. I mean, look at the military here. They are armed to the teeth with weaponry that would tear a normal person to shreds in a second. Obviously, there is something not right about this. They are covering up something, I just know it..." Allen took a brief stretch and then stood up once more as he peered over to the young man in front of him. "Look, Jay, we need to find a more private place to talk. Like a... bathroom or something. It'll be the only place the military can't harass us." Allen gave Caitlyn another pat on the head as she nodded understandingly, dug into the backpack on her back and pulled forth a small purple Gameboy, and played what sounded like Pokémon on the small console.

Allen then peered around for what appeared to be the restrooms. He nodded towards a sign with a slight gesture of his hand and began to walk towards it. "You can either follow me, or I can wait for you. Either works for me." He spoke softly as he slowly began to walk away to the restrooms. The man peered around cautiously before entering the men's section of the restrooms. His feet tapped lightly against the tile floors, yet it could be heard by all who may be in the vicinity.

Then came a tapping. A rat-a-tat tapping. Olivia wondered who it was, but did she really want to know? Were the soldiers trying to lure her out? Was it Moot? Was Moot going to kill her? But despite worry, Olivia went out to investigate the noise. She peered around from behind the corner of the container, and it was Moot. Olivia was startled, and recoiled back behind the corner of the container. She didn't know how to act now that Moot came back. What if Moot really did care? Olivia, with hesitation, went out of the corner again to talk to Moot.

"Where were you, girl?" she loudly whispered.

Olivia then remembered how Moot may very well be deaf, but she couldn't take her phone out. The light from it would gain the attention of the soldiers looking for her. So Olivia took some deep breaths and motioned her hands for Moot to follow her. Hopefully Moot wasn't going to kill her.

Then a short distance away, a military helicopter starting up could be heard. Olivia shot herself behind some crates, and watched as it took off. It turned its spotlight on, and shined it on some people in the distance that seemed to be walking around like crazy people.

Myztii looked to him quietly, sitting upright so that she came face to face with him, her eyes glistening slightly. "Of course that's what I want. More than anything I want to get back to my brother to make sure he is okay.." She paused thinking over his plans, "I think it's worth a shot.. Whatever is going on is gonna get a lot worse, and we have to make sure that we make it through."

After a moment of thinking she offered a grin in return to him. "Alright, I'm in. I'll do whatever is needed to get the job done. Where do you want to start? If we cause too much of a problem around those military guys..." She frowned looking to her camera. "They won't hesitate to shoot us on the spot. I saw what they're doing to people out there before I let myself in."

Meanwhile, Griffith Park was seeing some military activity. It seemed a stronghold was being quickly put together due to it's elevation so military personel there can observe the outbreak as well as fortifying their defenses easier there.

One soilder and field medic, callsign "Vixen", was also there. Assigned to a support role, she was there investigating the outbreak itself. Inside the Observatory, Vixen aka Rachel Fernandez had quantined a random room to simply study blood samples from deceased victims she and the military had to sadly gun down. But it wasn't looking too promising. Most of the blood was pretty much useless since it seemed most of the victims that used to be walking and shuffling around were too far into the later stages to see how this virus works.

One thing's for sure, this virus was in a league of it's own. Even the infamous Ebloa virus would be like a common cold when compared to this thing. And with all the tours and missions she had done, she had thought she'd seen it all. But it seems someone or even mother nature herself always seemed to find some way to throw her a kunckleball that she doesn't see coming.

Looking away from the microscope, she just sighed. Higher ups were hoping that either her or others assigned to this assignment would be able to find a vaccine or something anything remotely useful to combat this virus without having to send in soldiers to do it the old fashioned way. While she didn't like that, she knew it may come down to it. Kill or be killed. But even that was a problem. It definetly wasn't airborne but direct contact, be it a bite or infected blood getting into your bloodstream, made this virus a serious risk to fight against. Soldiers themselves could become infected and they could start spreading it around.

Rachel had been trained for everything for many years now but this whole situation was right out of some video game, movie or even a horror book.

A knock came on the door and she approached it.

"Que?", Rachel called in spanish.

"Private Hicks Ma'am", came the reply.

Opening her door, she then saluted the private and he returned the salute.

"Sorry ma'am but you've just been given a transfer order from high up. Your going to the airport."

"...which one?"

"L.A.X ma'am."

"And for what reason? I'm still doing research here."

"We've been getting reports that there was a...stage one infected there but things are starting to get ugly...and ma'am, this report came from a private there and not the man in charge."

"...ugh...what happened?"

"Apparently, a child had caught it in the early stages. Sadly, some soldiers paniked and shot the boy and beat his mother to death in front of the civilians."

Rachel just shook her head at that.

"I know we have to do some...harsh things Hicks but in front of other people?"

"That's why "higher ups" are sending you out. One: to see if you can get better samples there. Two: to help the commander take charge. Or so I was told ma'am."

Slowly nodding her head, she then says, "Then give me a couple of minutes. I first need to get rid of these samples-"

"Ma'am. The other decontamination teams here will do that. Don't worry. They know the rules you told them on how NOT to get infected and to properly dispose of contaminated blood. We've already trying to get a chopper or a hummer escort to get you there right now. Which will come sooner than later. Just start gearing up for a fight."

Looking back into the room that was sort of her mini-lab, she then just nodded to Hicks and just threw the rubber gloves and surgeon mask into a nearby bin with a biohazard symbol on it and closed the lid.

No sooner than she left the room that she saw two individuals in the traditional yellow bio-suits walk by them. Both gave a salute to her.

"We got it ma'am. Just be careful", one said.

"Yeah. It's a different kind of "war" out there Vixen", the other said.

"Don't I know it", she responded with a salute.

Escorted by private Hicks, Vixen was escorted to the "weapons cache" area where most of the guns were being held near the Observatory. Gearing up with with goggles, a regular military helmit and her uniform and arming herself with a combat knife, an LMG and pistol. She then looked at all the other deadly equipment there.

...I don't really believe in God but heaven help us if we go all out... , she thought as she continued to suit up.

Joe smiled widely. "Fantastic! Don't worry about the soldiers. They don't have gas masks. First things first, though, we need the stuff. I can handle the supply gathering, so there's no problems with that. I meed your help in spreading the chaos. Sound good? As soon as I leave, lock this door. Don't open it until I slide... uh... this Starbucks card under the door. Alright? Good. Be right back."

Joe twisted the deadbolt and slid right between the door and frame. As if God were saying that everything would go according to plan, a map of the terminal lay on the floor. Joe picked it up and identified his hotspots. It would have to be tear gas first, to open them up for the assault on their senses that was flash grenades.

The security room only contained two personnel. Joe supposed that the rest were tending to the chaos in the terminal. A quick glance around told him that no one was watching, let alone caring what he was doing. He tapped on the security room door. A young hispanic man answered, and Joe's elbow strike went high and caught the fellow in the throat. Joe spun and grabbed the incapacitated man's belt, using him like a shield, lest the other guard draw his gun. Then, using the choking man like a battering ram, Joe rushed the other guard, who swung his taser up and fired into his coworker's back, to no avail. His colleague hit him like a convulsing train, smashing him into a whiteboard, hanging on the only solid wall in the room. Joe dropped the hispanic man, and coiled his fingers into the standing man's hair, before smashing his head into the cement behind him until his eyeballs rolled into his head, and he lost consciousness. Joe then turned the hispanic man on his face, and dropped his heel onto the back of the guard's head.

He stepped up from the near-silent carnage he'd just created, and examined the room. He needed a bag. A bag... a bag... He spotted one. It looked like a confiscated piece of luggage. It was a dark red suitcase, adorned with two peace sign buttons, a Bob Marley, and a sticker that read "I reserve my right to refuse a search, officer". "Doesn't work for planes, idiot", Joe muttered as he unzipped it, to find it empty. Then, he accessed the secure room at the back of the security station. It was little more than a dead-end hallway covered over with a metal grate. Inside was a goldmine, however. Joe dumped a box of flash grenades and tear gas into the suitcase, 19 in all, 9 flashbangs, 10 gas grenades, as well as a taser, and nine-millimeter ammunition, he assumed for the guards' pistols. The pistols. He'd forgotten about those. So, he ran back to the unconscious guards, and secured their belts, taking with him more of everything, as well as two flashlights, two nine-millimeter Springfield XD handguns, and two new batons.

His suitcase was bulging when he left, but it was shut securely, and no one was giving him funny looks. Those were all good signs. Upon reaching his restroom, he pulled out his wallet, and slipped the Starbucks Rewards card under the door, just as he and Myztii had agreed. Suddenly, he wished he had his jacket, as a bit of the hispanic guard's blood was spattered onto his white dress shirt. It hadn't been noticed from afar, because of his red tie, but Myztii, up close and personal, would see it. And then he'd have explaning to do. Then, he had an idea. He turned toward the door, and smashed his mouth against the frame. The pain was blinding at first, and Joe's legs quavered, but he achieved what he wanted. His mouth bled, and his lower lip was already starting to swell. He'd even dripped some overtop of the guard's blood on his shirt.

Crisis averted.