Swinging his head in quick sweeping motions, Tempest scanned for the detective. No sign. Blast it, he was likely on the way though. He couldnt have been that far, that cruiser he'd been with had looked nippy. Tempest's train of thought was violently derailed by a great shuddering. 'What the?' his thoughts scrambled to gather themselves. Shifting his weight he hopped and propelled himself up with a slight blast. Clearing the roof off the warehouse be thudded down onto it, skidding like a three wheeled hatchback on the soaked sheetmetal. 

Casting his gaze out beyond the rooftop he saw the obvious culprit of the resounding thud. Accompanying it was quite a degree of carnage. Gnarled remains of a boat warped around the docks. Metal and wood bled together. From the interior, dozens, if not hundreds of black robed figures streamed out. Ants from an anthill. 

Letting himself slide he lightly flung himself off the roof again. Sprinting towards the trouble, the night air hummed with the snickering of flames, screams of men and flailing of sirens. The robed figures didn't seem the least perturbed, in fact they seemed to be revelling in the chaos. As one of them danced by, Tempest reached out and grabbed him. 
"Who are you, what is this?"