[b]SONJA[/b]

Sonja stood exhausted, watching helplessly as Sarin slowly began to dissolve into gaseous form. All that and there was nothing she could do but watch. Damn. If only she wasn't so damn powerless under this dampening field-

-wait, did someone just say the dampening field was down?

It was true, she realized. She no longer felt like someone had draped a wet blanket over her. She was at the same power level she would be if she walked out of here. If she acted quick, she could still save herself.

Sarin was taking longer to change than she normally did, seemingly fitfully as bits and pieces of her body remained solid even as others melted to gas. One of them being her head.

The Stan Musial bat flew across the room, smacking perfectly into Sonja's outstretched hand. The bat was back at full power, as well, giving it the approximate striking force of a pile driver. Sonja, pushed into desperation, swung it downwards as hard as she could, aiming for Sarin's still-intact head. It might be too much. But if Sonja didn't stop her, she'd be dead herself in the next few seconds. There wasn't time to do anything fancy. There just wasn't time. She was exhausted from the effort of using magic under the field, there was very little gas left in the tank.

Sonja closed her eyes just before the bat made impact, felt the ragged edge of unconsciousness pushing itself over her. Despite it all, she was so tired she welcomed the sensation. Not to mention she didn't really want to face what she had just done to Sarin. It seemed like as good of a time as any to pass out. So she did.

--------

[b]SIXGUN[/b]

"Thank you, gents," he said with a nod. "I'ma just pop back into my room and grab my wallet, then I'll be off." Hands in his pockets, whistling a jaunty tune, Sixgun walked back to his room, his confidence bolstered by the guard's lax attitude. Making sure no one was watching, he regained his jacket and Panama hat, then carefully slipped the vial labeled Apex into his interior pocket. He'd take a stroll out, drop it at the dead drop, stop at a general store (or what did they call it nowadays? Convenience store, was it?) and get the cigarettes and liquor. Simple as that.

But first things first, some eavesdropping. Watching carefully and doing his best to keep out of sight, Sixgun sidled up closer to the main house, hoping to find the window to Marconi's office. If he could get an idea what he was discussing with Music, he might learn something valuable. Assuming he didn't get caught, of course.