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The night goes on and the dawn eventually comes. Through out the city of Justice, life kept pushing forward despite the death's of so many. Yet over this particular evening, no more of consequence perished. Had Lady Luck turned a blind eye to the city or had she just held her dice and refused to roll them for a single evening? The inhabitants of the city may never know but as dawn broken over the horizon a new day began and it was going to be a very long day. A very long day...

There was nothing one could deny it, for even though no more had shed their mortal coil there was still those that had already the day and weeks before. Ones that needed to be laid to rest. A Marine Core unit stood on the tarmac of a private area of the airport in Justice as a casket covered with the flag of the United States laid over it. They stood with a held salute as the remains of Lorna Dunn were rolled up the ramp and onto the carrier. Though she had been dishonorably discharged from the U.S. Marines, a Marine was always a Marine and there were still those in the Core in that respected her. So there they stood, having flown in the night before from South Carolina at the request of her family to escort her body home. A final salute and they walked up the ramp to sit with the casket for the flight home.



Natasha watched from the tarmac a hundred yards away. Lorna's was not the only body that would be laid to rest soon and it seemed she was going along with a group to do just that. Personal physician to Cecily during her recovery. Sighing the doctor looked around as Alicia's casket was wheeled out from the hanger and to the plane the small group would be taking to Mexico that day. The doctor had had a long night in surgery and getting packed. Not much rest for the woman in recovery and she was beyond thankful that Lincoln had been kind enough to drive her to the airport that morning.

The man she loved was not happy that she had decided to take another flight in her condition but he understood her devotion to her patients. He had made sure she had enough of her medication for the trip and was all packed up. All she really had to do was send out a text to Cecily that morning, which she had, telling her she was on her way to the airport. Natasha slept most of the drive to the airport and had to be roused when they arrived. A long kiss and goodbye later and she was on her way. Her patient at Justice Memorial was being taken care of by the nursing staff now and had been checked in on by the surgeon before being handed off to Dr. Chang in ICU. He was allowed visitors come the eleven o-clock hour. His personal effects though had yet to be brought to his room for whatever reason. Breakfast however was sitting on a tray near his bed, straight liquids for now. Broth and jello seemed to be the menu along with non-caffeinated tea to drink. It was to be expected, it was the usual post operation first meal.

Pushing her hair back from her face Natasha turned as she was tapped on the shoulder and handed off her luggage to one of the workers who was loading up the plane. "You can take a seat whenever you are ready miss. The pilot says we will take off as soon as Senor Gonzalez gives the okay," he said. Nodding Natasha walked over to the staircase and made her way up to the side door of the plane. Stepping in she glanced around. This was far better than traveling commercial, a private jet meant leg room and relaxation. Whose plane it was she had no idea but perhaps it had something to do with the Mexican she was traveling with. Probably. It didn't matter. This was the flight she had been told to board. Sitting down she got comfortable, they would arrive at their destination in Mexico within three hours of take off.



The sound of gun fire was the first thing heard in certain parts of Justice and it woke Roy. He snapped awake quickly and looked around. He was sore from the attack the night before but he felt better. Rubbing his face he grabbed a towel off the back of one of the kitchen chairs and went to take a shower. What ever messages or calls he had gotten over night were ignored for now. He needed to clean up and wake up fully. It was going to be a long day.

Thankfully breakfast was waiting on the pair who had held up in the place the night before. It was on the table with a note that Roy read before he went to wash off the scum of Justice from the night before. Seemed the two that had been there held up with him before stopped by and dropped with it. "We have a lead and are checking it out, will call when we find out more. Enjoy breakfast - Risa~

At least someone was getting somewhere he thought to himself and they had brought breakfast. Granted they had taken more of the weapons with them when they left but hey, breakfast was breakfast. It was still slightly warm so they couldn't have been gone long but the fact they had gotten in and out without being noticed worried Roy a bit, that was until he remembered just who they really were. That was their job. At least they had left a bag full of breakfast burritos. It was something. Well so was the fact they were still alive. That was good news. Probably the best news he had had in weeks.

The Asylum wasn't as lucky to have burritos for breakfast, powdered eggs and dry toast was a crappy breakfast but the residents were used to it. The cook there had once served in the Army, seemed he still figured he was. Yet even those at the Asylum were having a better meal than Cynthia was. Sitting there on the floor of run down room inside a run down house with her mother.

"Mommy, can I have some strawberry quick?" she asked innocently.

"Later, right now we can't go out, people are looking for us. They'll kill me if they find us. We have to be safe. Don't want you in more danger, don't want you ending up like all your friends from high school do we?" the woman said looking over at Cynthia. The girl nodded and went back to eating from her small pack of MRE her mother had given her. The meal sucked but she wasn't scared right then and was happy to be with her mom. Why was anyone's guess.



Food... Glorious Food. That was how it was done on the farm. Zoie had gotten up early and got into the kitchen quickly before anyone else had gotten up. She had made buttermilk biscuits, salted pork, bacon, and eggs over medium. There was a large pot of coffee sitting on the table with the rest of the plate settings as she finished cutting up fresh fruit; cantaloupes, strawberries, honeydew. Plating it on a serving platter and setting it next to a bowl of vanilla yogurt and another of granola. She wasn't sure what everyone would want to eat that morning so she figured she would just make, well everything.

"Breakfast!" she yelled down the hallway and up the stairs. She was standing there in a black suit, her hair slicked back, and high black heels. Seemed she was set to go for the day and she had her mind set on something that required more than boots and jeans. She looked every bit the high priced lawyer right then with her strand of pearls around her neck manicured nails. Removing her apron she hung it on the wall and straightened up an book from the pile she had moved from the table earlier. It had been left from the night before.

Outside of the house a stretch limo waited but the driver was not there. He was sitting on the front porch looking around as he fiddled with his hat. Relic sat next to him and the two were talking about various things, Relic seemed rather at ease around the man and a lot more open than normal. "Yeah, I bet. She likes doing stuff like that," Relic said as he heard Zoie call about breakfast.

The two stood up and stepped in side. "Morning Zo," Marc said as he winked at Zoie.

"Mornin', glad you got my message," she said as the two gave each other a big hug.

"Yeah, well I owe you. I was able to get the guns handed off and a lead because of your heads up."

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Coming from the cockpit of the plane, the pilot looked around for a moment before stepping over to the movie screen hanging on the wall. In his hand he carried a package. "This was delivered to me along with a note last night," he explained as he laid the note on the table open for any to read. On it was a hand writing that Caesar would recognize easily. It was in his Miha's hand...

If you are receiving this, it means that I am gone. If I know my papi, he will be taking my body home to reset with our ancestors. Play this at take off for him. Thank you - Alicia~

The note was short, sweet, and too the point. "I am following her instructions," the pilot added as he popped an SD card into the side of the TV. Pick up the remote he clicked play on the one file on the drive. The screen remained dark for a moment before an image flashed on the screen. Alicia sat there in a rather familiar room, the same one Caesar and Cecily had found the day they had visited the private air strip. She sat on a stool and brushed her hair back for a moment before she began to speak.

"Hey Papi," she stated as she gave a small sad smile to the camera that was recording her. "I'm sorry you are having to see this. Never wanted this to have to be sent to you but if you are getting it, it means that things have gone to shit town fast. I know you papi, nothing I can say will stop you from seeking revenge so not gonna bother. You go, do what you gotta, kill ever last mother fucking one of them. Just don't get yourself killed to. I want to see ya again Papi but not yet," she said before looking down and sighing deeply.

"I've kept a lot from you papi. Trying to keep you safe. Who knows, trying to be a legend like you. Doesn't matter now. Shit needs to be done and there is no one I trust more in this world than you to get the job done. And after the job is done you have another but I will get to that in a minute." Looking back at the camera she stood up and it blurred for a moment before refocusing.

"Juno is responsible for everything. Think a female illuminate. Not everyone in the group is bad though, others were working with me to tear them apart from the inside. I can't say much right now, in case this video is discovered. I have left more information though. Find an Angel at home, they will hold the key. Find a Father, he has the secret. Lay me to rest, it holds the future," she said cryptically.

Letting a long sad sigh out she rubbed her hands along her thighs and added one last thing to the message. "I love you Papi, you are the best papi a girl could have. I'm gone now but it ain't your fault no matter how it happened. You taught me everything and I wouldn't have traded my life for anything. I'll see you again papi, don't worry," she said with a smile before blowing a kiss to the camera before waving goodbye and the video fading out to dark.

It was weird waking up in somebody else's house. There was that half-moment of where the hell am I that passed once the brain booted up enough to remember what had happened the day before.

That wasn't all that was weird, there was also trying to go through a morning routine in somebody else's house. Mali couldn't brush her teeth because she didn't think to bring a toothbrush with her yesterday, so the inside of her mouth would have to deal with being all gross and sticky. All she had to wear were the borrowed clothes she was already wearing and all that was available in the way of health care products were soap and shampoo. Even if there had been more, Mali wouldn't want to use anything else that might be "owned" by somebody else. So all she could really do was wash her face as best as she could, take a quick shower and make sure her hair wasn't a total mess.

When she stepped down from the guest room (which she had taken care to tidy up after showering), she was only slightly miffed to be the most sloppily dressed person in the room.

"Morning. Didn't expect to see you so soon again, Agent." Perhaps a more casual greeting than appropriate given how tense/awkward the run-in yesterday was, but that was then, this was now. He was someone she could "trust" so she wouldn't give him a hard time unless he gave her reason to be difficult. There was a lot more she wanted to ask, but it didn't feel like the time to talk business since Zoie had just spent the time to prepare grub for everyone.

When she took a seat at the table to feed herself, her brain automatically went into nutritionist, macro-calulating, number-crunching mode. Each egg was about 6 grams of protein, 7 grams of fat since the yolk was intact and maybe half a gram or carbs. She didn't want to eat all the eggs, so if she ate four or five that would be about 24-30g of protein, 28-35g fat and 2g of carbs. She didn't know what cut of por- Around here she remembered that since she was on a forced break she didn't have to keep track of all this as stringently as normally.

Even with that in mind, she assembled a very protein oriented breakfast. Probably more than her fair share of eggs, a couple slices of salted pork, a healthy side of yogurt and a slice of cantaloupe for the complex carbs. As much as she wanted to dig in there and then, she would wait for everyone else to be served before starting on anything herself.

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Riley didn't sleep all that well, a lot was still on her mind she didn't get a reply from Marc after her last text from the night before and she was also still worried about that caller. Sure she did ditch her old phone now, and she couldn't be tracked with it anymore but she was still a bit worried that they will find her at some point. Riley was also worried about Cecily, and wondered what she was actually doing at the moment, and where she was after warning her last night. Then she instantly jumped up when she heard the gunshot going off in the distance, thinking that it was someone who ended up finding them in the safe house. Sighing deeply to herself Riley looked over seeing Roy making his way over towards the bathroom to take a shower.

Slowly pulling herself off of the bed Riley cracked her neck and fingers, as she stumbled out of the bed she noticed the bag on the table looking over at the note that was left for them on the table. Riley quietly read over the note, and assumed that it was also the other couple that were from Boston Heights.

Riley quickly grabbed one of the burritos and then grabbed herself a plate, along with some rice that was left over from the night before as she quickly started to dig into the food. Riley took a quick glance down at her new phone to see if there was any text from anyone yet she was more worried for Marc at the moment. When there wasn't a response Riley continued to eat away at the breakfast burrito as well as the rice. She couldn't help but be curious what the plan for the day was, whenever Roy came out of the shower she gave him a slight smile. "Morning, hows the wound by the way and did you sleep well?" Riley finally asked as she yawned slightly and stretched, looking down at her clothes they were from the day before she did feel a bit dirty from the day before and hadn't changed into something that was more comfortable.

Darkness was pretty much all he had for a second. Finally his eye slowly opened. Light poured into the single iris causing him slight shock, shell-shocking him and making his face flinch. Jeez was that an odd reaction. How long had he been out for. he remembered vividly the doctors putting him under. Wasn't Riley still there with him before he was submerged? He tried to sit up and look around, but it appeared he was alone. From what he could gather, it was the day after he got attacked.

With a straining of his muscles, he leaned up letting out a low groan. God everything hurt, his head was pounding. Oh yeah. He got stabbed. He put his hand up and realised his eye was gone. Emotion abandoned him. How was he supposed to react? Was there any normal reaction. Anger and sadness. Those boiled up and he cursed roughly under his breath before laying back down, breathing heavily. He was reckless and foolish, merely paying for his own stupidity.

His gaze turned to his jello and broth and let out a relieved sigh. At least he was somewhere civil. Witha weak smile he reached out and grabbed a spoon, slowly sipping on his broth. He looked around trying to see what else was around. If he was in any immediate danger, he'd have to go quick.

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Just like the last few episodes she had watched with Keystone last night, the morning had been a whirlwind that blurred together. She had felt entirely exhausted as they left Casa Keystone, not because she had been up all night working like Natasha, but because she had watched one too many episodes late at night. And of course, the alcohol added into the mixture hadn't helped. Had it been just a few weeks ago, she would've just grabbed a can of Monster from the vending machine at work, chugged it, and then soldiered on--with a high chance of staying up too late each night until she finished whatever show she was bingeing.

Cecily didn't have the best sleep habits, to say the least. Though it also wasn't like her job encouraged them either. Homicides didn't confine themselves to occurring between the hours of nine and five, after all.

But on the bright side, Cecily was practically an expert at sleeping on planes if needed. Her parents had moved around so often and were a bit too snobby to even consider not flying each time. It could've been a two hour drive and there was still a good chance they'd opt for a plane. They had racked up so many flying miles that they signed their children up for accounts as well, just to maximize the benefits. Neither of their kids had ever been afraid of flying and were familiar with the luxuries of first class. High class lawyers had the money to pay for that sort of thing, after all.

"Last night was fun, we should do that again," Cecily mentioned to Keystone when they got to the tarmac. She had texted Natasha back letting her know when she and Keystone were on their way, but the young Coroner was so tired that she hardly even remembered sending the text message. She only knew she had because there was the record of it on her phone. "We can go back and watch the earlier seasons too, make it less confusing for you."

Once they reached the private jet, Cecily's eyes widened a bit. She had flown first class fairly often, but it was commercial. And since moving out, she hadn't been able to afford much better than the so called 'Comfort Class' that was just an extra inch of leg room. She had never had the chance to fly private before. That was something that Iron Man got to do, something reserved for presidents in political dramas. For a mere moment, Cecily was worried that you were supposed to dress nicely for these sort of things, but she shook the thought of her head. She doubted Caesar had a dress code for his private plane requiring slacks and a blouse.

"Thank you," Cecily said to the worker who took her luggage away, keeping her carry on with her. She might have been an experienced flyer, but she still needed something to fiddle with during flights, even if the flight was just a quick three hour hop. The comic book that she moved from her suitcase to her carry on should be plenty, and if not, she'd see if sleeping was an option.

Getting into the plane, Cecily smiled and waved at Natasha as she got herself seated, her bag between her feet. She was incredibly grateful to the woman, figuring that she owed her life to Natasha. She was about to ask Natasha how her morning was when she realized with a jolt that she had never opened the message from Riley last night. Pulling it up on her phone, Cecily read it over before blushing deeply. She didn't know how to respond to the end of Riley's message.


When the pilot came out from the cockpit, Cecily was a bit curious and hesitant. Was this normal for private planes, to have the pilot come out before take off? But once he explained what was going on, it made sense. Anyone who had a secret underground lair was pretty much guaranteed to make a bunch of 'in case of death' videos. It was undercover spy standard, from what Cecily had come to understand by watching Mary Watson in Sherlock. The video itself didn't make much sense to Cecily, though she figured it would make a lot of sense to Caesar.

She only hoped that the man was okay--this couldn't have been easy in the slightest.

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Iris had gotten up fairly early that morning, dressed for work as she put together the ingredients of a smoothie in the blender. She wasn't due at the asylum for an hour but she wanted to get there a bit early regardless. There were loose ends to take care of from the previous night and she needed to make sure that Jaina had been processed correctly. She figured there was a decent chance that the patient was still in the room Marc had left her in.

Pouring a glass of smoothie for herself, Iris glanced over towards her bag on the table. Inside were the scrapbooks of Cynthia's that she had taken from the asylum, as well as the card from Agent Tinder. Iris glanced over at the bag as she drank her smoothie, setting it in the sink and cleaning up the mess. By the time she finished putting the kitchen back in proper condition, the scrapbook continued to bother her.

"Bien, bien bien," Iris muttered to herself as she went over to her bag and took out the book, along with Agent Tinder's card. Keeping her camera steady and still, Iris sent shots of all the pertinent photographs to Agent Tinder. If he was as in the dark as she was about that woman being Cynthia's mother, she figured these photographs could be an asset to the FBI's case.


Iris then clicked on all the photos on her phone and airdropped them over to her Mac. Hopefully, there'd be one with a nice clean shot of the mystery man's face, that way she could then do a Google image search to see if she could figure out who he was.

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Keystone awoke to find the television asking him in bold, white letters whether or not he wanted to play the next episode of iZombie, eyes squinting against the unfamiliar light. He didn't recall passing out late the previous evening, but considering the uncomfortable angle of his neck he surmised that it wasn't really his idea. Something else that wasn't likely his idea; he felt the warmth of a living person under his left hand. "Nope. Nopenopenopenope.... and Nope. This ain't 'appening again." he thought to himself as his eyes slammed open, afraid that he had broken another rule concerning improper fraternization. Damn bloody damn buggerfrig damnit. Maybe it was his underclass charm, capped of by a distinct lack of manners that sometimes served in an ironic social capacity. Perhaps his occasional irresistibility had something to do with his ox-like pheromones, which when triggered give him an almost intangible aroma resembling a combination of Old Spice and grilled steak. Who knew? Truly a mystery for the ages.

As his eyes adjusted to the blue and white light emanating from the DVR selections across the room, he risked a look to the side. Yes, Cecily was there, fast asleep and fully clothed. She looked almost as uncomfortable as he did. Between their state of un-nudity and empty dishes still on the coffee table, Keystone breathed a long sigh of relief. He chuckled silently for a moment, and pulled himself to a stand. A quick look to the clock told him that they didn't have to be on the road for a little while, so he gathered their dishes from the previous evening and, as quietly as he could, bussed them to the kitchen.

Risking a bit of time, the broad pugilist preheated his over withdrew a leftover calzone from the refrigerator. It wasn't exactly the perfect breakfast for a guest, but time was a factor that morning, even if they had some wiggle room. Still, cutting the big, meaty pocket into thick slices and baking it again, while not exactly the fitting visage of an English Breakfast, would suffice in a way that toast and coffee simply could not. And as no morning ritual in a proper British household (or even his, for that matter) could not exist without tea, Keystone set a full kettle on the stove and pulled a box of loose black tea from his cupboard, and disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower and change into more tactical, work related attire, including a rarely utilized set of form fitting secure armor. It seemed logical, considering the rising body count and him being the last person in Justice that Caesar knew he could trust with his company, despite his lack of experience running something this large.

By the time the kettle was singing and the calzone slices nice and hot, Keystone had attired appropriately to that of a Security Agent, and with it came the desire to keep to a schedule.

When their schedule brought the two of them to the tarmac, Keystone gave a small grin at Cecily's suggestion about repeating their iZombie binge. It was something that had nothing whatsoever to do with the various social engagements to which he was generally accustomed, thanks to the nature of his work. No heavy drinking, no massive violence, no unabashed pursuit of vigorous pre-marital interaction. Just a meal, bottle of decent wine, and a crapton of entertaining storyline. "We should that, Miss Cecily. I'll see what I can arrange for whenever y'get back." He handed over one of his cards containing his business cell number, and saw his charge as far as airport security.

Keystone returned to his Ramcharger and took a quick jaunt over to the more common areas of the airport, specifically following the signs taking him to Arrivals. In about another hour or so, he needed to be present to represent the company for the arrival of key members of the company Tech team, flying in from Seattle. He wasn't even sure how many were showing up, so there was the possibility he'd have to charter a shuttle. And figure out lodging, if needed. Well, that could wait until later in the day. For now, all he had on his plate was to hang out and waste a little time before the United flight from SeaTac was due, and assert himself accordingly.

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Caesar slept lightly and rose early, the unintentional side effect of dealing with a boatload of personal grief mixed with equal parts of rage. He kept it to himself mostly, tucked away as one might palm a knife, waiting for an opportune moment to lash out and impale someone truly deserving of it. His lack of a full night's rest this morning was due in no small part to the fact that he maintained his concern about someone trying to access his apartment via the tunnel system below. The search last night had apparently brought up nothing of use. Either the hatch wasn't accessible from this end, or he just couldn't find it. He would definitely make another attempt when he returned home.

As he rose early and traveled relatively light, the elder Mexican was ready and out of his door as the sun was cresting the horizon. He mounted his trike and roared off into the gradual light of the coming morning, headed for the Justice airport. He had a plane to catch. The traffic was fairly light, so far as California went.

If he was going to be away from town for any length of time, he was going to have to arrange for private, long-term parking. There was no way in hell Caesar was leaving his personal conveyance back in Boston Heights (of all places) while he was gone for a few days. He was fairly certain that it would be stuffed full of explosives, stripped, or just stolen outright. Enclosed storage at the airport would suffice nicely, but added time until he could get to his private plane and get into the air. He was eager to get underway.

By the time he has traversed the airport from long term storage to his private plane, Cecily had already been escorted on board. Then he got the unique honor of getting his heart ripped from his chest once again as Alicia had left him another message. Written and recorded this time, he savored the bittersweet memory of his daughter as she dispensed more coded speech that only he, or someone very close to him, might understand. An Angel holds the key, a Father has a secret, and laying her to rest will hold the future. And get to killing as liberally as possible, but be advised that some of these Juno women weren't quite as evil as originally thought. Two bucks sad that the casualties in their ranks, or at least the one he was sure of, was one of those women.

He responded to the last bit of her message vocally, intoning "I love you too, M'hija." He cleared his throat and spoke to the front of the cabin in a louder voice, "Alright, let's get this plane in the air."

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Chicago Heights: - Iris would have plenty to do that morning even though she was not on call at the asylum that morning. There were emails a plenty from patients families wondering just what in the hell happened yesterday and that they were told basically nothing from the staff. She had only been there a short time but whatever established staff was there had no problem passing on the doctors name and email to her.

There was even an Email from the board...Due to recent events, the staff is being directed to speak to no one about the events that supposedly occurred on May 21st. We will be delivering a statement to the press by 4p.m. today. - It was short, sweet, to the point and basically rang of gag order. Seemed someone didn't get the message though because at the door there was a knock. On the other side was Amy Adams with her camera man and she looked to be hungry for anything but breakfast.

Zoies Farm: - The rest made their way into the kitchen and had a seat to grab breakfast. Zoie had cooked more than enough and it seemed everyone was digging in. Marc looked over at Mali and let out a sigh. "Yeah, well it's been an interesting last few days to say the least. Glad to know you aren't one of the bodies on a slab in the morgue," Marc said as he pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Flipping through the images that were sent to him he cocked a brow slightly before sending a message back to Iris.

"I think you may have just broke the case.." he typed in before sending the text back to Iris. Rubbing his face he looked at the pictures a few for minutes as Zoie told Relic to make sure to get more than the little he was putting on his plate. Sighing he sent out another text..."I'm alive and safe, guns taken care of; stay safe today." he typed out real quick and sent to Riley. Putting his phone away he turned his attention to the meal.

"So, anyone learn anything?" he asked before taking a bite of a piece of bacon.

Safehouse - Roy looked over to Riley and then down at his side. "It's stiff as hell but feeling better," he said before taking a seat next to Riley and grabbing one of the burritos that were left for them. Watching Riley for a minute, he stood back up and went over to one of the bag along the wall. Digging through it before shrugging to himself and picking it up. Bringing it back over to her he set it on the table with a bit of a grunt, his side hurting a little from lifting it.

"Some clothes in here, wigs, make up. Bag is Risa's bug out bag. Might be something in there you could use," he said as he reached in and pulled out a wig. "Maybe go incognito today," he chuckled as he looked at it before tossing it back into the bag and taking his seat again. "There are towels and soap in the bathroom if you want to grab a shower."

Justice Memorial Hospital: - The room did not hold much that a standard ICU room didn't. It had standard walls, except for the main one where the door leading out to the Nurses area was, it was glass but at least had curtains for privacy. Sadly there were no windows. There was no bathroom adjoined to the room, just a toilet seat with a screen separating it from the rest of the room. The IV was hooked up and running, solution with whatever meds were pumped into it pushing into Felix's vein on his left hand, the needle itself taped down to make sure it didn't move too much if he did. Oxygen tubes were hooked to the wall, running long until they came up and curled beneath his nostrils. A few blankets on the bed, which had a remote attached to it - call button, buttons to sit the bed up or lay it down, and to turn the TV on.

The broth was basic at best, as was the rest of the meal. It would be a long road to recovery - if something did happen, chances were not good that he could make a break for it. Blood loss, surgery, a missing eye with gauze taped over it, no clothing, a simple hospital gown, and a room with a 1 way exit made for poor escape plans. So many hours under anesthesia would leave the body worn and drained, tightness in the bowels, and more. Loss of so much blood would lead to days of lightheadedness and dizziness even with transfusions.

Justice Airport: - Natasha bit her bottom lip as she watched the video of Alicia. Glancing over at Caesar she knew the feeling. Not of losing a child but of losing a loved one. The doctor thought back to when she had lost her mother when she was young, how she felt when her father had died in her arms. She doubted either of those circumstances could compare to having a child murdered. She doubted even the pain she had gone through with her own surgeries could even come close.

The pilot nodded and made his way back into the cockpit, closing the door behind him as the main door to the plane was shut by their inflight male steward. He took his seat as the general announcement went over the intercom; informing the passengers it would be a little more than six hours until they arrived to their destination but that the weather seemed to be in their favor so there shouldn't be any delays. Natasha looked over towards Cecily and smiled slightly to her. "Once we get to cruising height, I want to look at your wound and change the bandages," she said as she leaned back in her seat and the plane taxied down the runway.

In the airport itself, things were busy. It was Monday morning and early. Business people were rushing from one part of the airport to another to catch their flights or their connections. The food stops along the way all had long lines as people stared down at their phones, hardly paying any attention to the rest of the world moving around them. It was no wonder that airports were easy targets for bombings. No one noticed much of anything going on. Either talking on the phone, texting, plugged into whatever outlet they could find to charge their devices, eating, reading, running. They were so focused on their own lives, it hardly registered that anyone else had a life of their own. That was unless they bumped into someone. Thought at least it seemed right then in Justice, at least the planes were running on schedule. A flight was due in from Seattle at Gate A17 in 45 minutes.

Mali wasn't sure why Marc would be relieved that she was still well. She'd said all of five sentences to him over the course of two days. She'd understand if he'd said that to Zoie or Relic, as they seemed to have plenty of history, but her? Maybe he was just too used to people he met dying almost immediately. It would make some sense, he was an FBI Agent (assuming she was recalling correctly) after all.

Mali kept her eyes on him as he checked through his phone. Well not just on him, but also her breakfast, and out the window, and at Relic. Really she was just trying to keep herself from staring as Zoie. Any time she let her guard down, she would find her eyes begin to drift in her direction. The worst part was that Mali wasn't even sure she liked Zoie beyond surface level physical attraction, but those conversations last night made her really self-conscious about it.

"Depends on what you mean," Mali said between spoonfuls of yogurt. "I'm fairly certain that anything I've learned these past few weeks is just me getting up to speed with what everyone else here knows. All I've really contributed to the discussion is conjecture."

"...I did learn that I didn't have awful taste in literature as a teenager."

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Riley looked back towards Roy and smiled slightly. "First few days hurt like hell, and stiff for me as well." Riley said softly cringing slightly as she remembered the accident, and then waking up in the hospital a few hours later with some stiches in her side. Riley then felt her new phone vibrate in her pocket and looked down at it a text from Cecily and the other from Marc, letting out a slight sigh that they were both alright. Riley then wondered where Cecily was actually heading out of town for, though it was probably a good thing, she would be safer out of the city then being in it. Riley was also really glad to hear that Marc was alright, and that the guns were not her problem anymore though she was still very much worried about him.

To Marc:
Fucking happy to hear from you, I'll be fine don't get yourself killed out there. And please keep me posted on everything.

To CeCe:
Have a safe trip, and i'll hopefully see you when you get back.

Riley hit send as she went to take another bite out of one of the breakfast burritos she hoped that Cecily would be safe wherever she was actually going, she looked over as Roy got up and made his way to the other side of the room. She looked down at the bag that he was sifting through, seeing him pulling out a wig then just grabbing the entire thing and made his way over towards the table. Staying low and changing her appearance a bit wasn't a bad idea, she still wasn't sure if she was being watched now or not. "It will probably be a good idea to change up my look a bit." Riley said with a slight smile as she stood up, and took the bag with her.

She made her way into the bathroom, and started to take off her clothes from the day before pulling out the phone from her pocket Riley then got into the shower and started to clean herself off as best as she could. About five minutes later Riley got out of the shower, and started to sift through the bag of clothes that she was given. Riley grabbed a red wig with. She rarely ever wore wigs, unless it was for some kind of photoshoot or a music video that required it. Putting on some makeup Riley came out of the shower and looked over towards Roy, wondering what he got planned for the day. "So whats the plan for today, and how do I look?" She asked.

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The flight may have been six hours long, but Cecily was glad there wouldn't be any delays due to weather. Plane flights were never much fun and she pulled out her phone, switching it over to airplane mode. The text from Riley was left unanswered--it'd have to wait for her to land. She nodded at Natasha wanting to change our her bandages, hoping that nothing too terrible had happened to her wound since the doctor tended to it last. She dreaded there being any complications.

Cecily relaxed in her seat as the plane went down the runway, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the headrest. When she was little, she'd always be staring out the window as planes took off. Eventually, she had seen planes take off so often that it wasn't worth staring out the window, meaning she'd either already be reading a book or she'd rest her eyes. But the coroner felt that Caesar likely had some sort of activities planned out for them during the flight, meaning that reading for the moment was out. A brief moment to rest her eyes was the best way to spend take off.

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Iris beamed down at the quick reply from Marc. It was the best of feelings, being able to help someone else when they were in need. And if those photographs would help Agent Tinder find Cynthia, Iris was incredibly glad she had taken them home from her. It wasn't exactly protocol to take a patient's belongings home, but after what happened the day before, Iris was certain no one would notice. Those who did notice, she hoped, wouldn't mind.

Exiting the Messages app, Iris caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a million emails in her inbox. She tended to keep her inbox fairly tidy, with no unread messages if she could help it. Biting her lip, Iris opened it up and quickly scanned through them. Patients' families were asking for information about what had happened the day before, with it making the news and all. The message from the board disgusted her a little bit. Were they just going to cover all of this up? It reeked of corruption and made the young psychiatrist sigh a bit. Hopefully she was wrong and the press release later that day would come clean.

Opening up her Mac, Iris composed a quick email response to all of the families that had contacted her - I am unable to pass on any information at this time, but a statement will be released at 4 o'clock today. - Dr. Kingston. She didn't want those families to have to worry all day about their loved ones without any communication from the staff. The very least she could do was let them know that news would be coming later.

Packing up her belongings, Iris paused as she heard a knock at the door. Frowning slightly, she couldn't help but wonder who it would be. Opening the door to Amy Adams and a cameraman, however, certainly wasn't something she expected. "Erm...hullo? Can I help you?"

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His was the face of duty wrapped in abject boredom. It didn't take long to get there, either; boredom comes fast when you're waiting someplace you don't want to be, waiting on people you've never met, on behalf of an employer that was traveling a couple thousand miles away, to lay to rest a woman who was formative to his own introduction to and training within the Company. Maybe he would be able to pay his respects later on, after all of the foolishness in Justice died down.

Before Keystone found his way to Gate A17, he had to pull his vehicle around to the more public area of the airport. And seeing as he'd be entering "sterile areas", handled by the TSA in a manner that only they could, he was going to have to leave his toys in the car. Locked in the glove box, for whatever good that would do in case the car was hit by a rocket launcher (which could very well happen in this city, the rate things were going). The attention he was paid by the workaday personnel at the security checkpoints moving into the terminals was predictably thorough, as it usually was for a guy of his dimensions attempting to gain access to airport secure zones. After the first couple of checkpoints, he made it a point to wear his MSS credentials on the outside of his jacket. It helped some. He wasn't just some 500 lb gorilla in business tactical wear, he was a professional 500 lb gorilla in business tactical wear.

It hit Keystone, in a moment of ugly yawning, that his sleep the previous night wasn't exactly quality. Before his eyelids decided to stage a rebellion, he stepped into the first Duty Free shop he saw and picked up a sixer of UberBeast Citrus Violation Energy Beverage_(*). Despite it being illegal in five contemporary countries (four of those due to mandatory religious observations), it was one of the few things he could hork back that would actually effect him in any meaningful way. Not to disparage his experience with something he had stumbled across called "Southern Style Sweet Tea", a thing which, upon consumption, he was convinced was the key ingredient in crystal meth and likely accounted for the state of many long-term addicts' teeth. If he were honest with himself, however, he really did adore the stuff. He just couldn't find it made properly in California. Very sad.

So there he sat, back of his chair against a wall, scanning the area for potential threats (you know, for fun!) and waiting for his tech team's plane to arrive. Popping open a can of the fizzy, sleep-destroying soda, he took a tentative few sips and settled in for his moderate wait.

_{(*) "Now with even more cheetah adrenaline and cerebrospinal fluid!"}

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Caesar sat for a few minutes, taking in all that was said to him from beyond the grave, yet again, by his daughter. One of the messages that he got from this video that stuck out was that not all of the women in Juno were downright evil. It made him think back to something that his contract holder in Justice had told him. It was something along the lines of her saying that both she and Alicia saw eye to eye on how they wanted things to proceed, and hoping that they could come to a similar understanding. Not to mention that Gretchen lady, whose death was a little too suspicious. Caesar had given some consideration to simply snatching up the first member of Juno known to him and keep putting knives and fire to her until he found out enough information to begin his own killing spree. He had some measure of gladness that he did not; if there were the possibility that he only had to viciously murder most of them, it would be easier. Moreso if he had the help of some of the others, if they were allies of his daughter.

It looked to be a longish flight, so far as flights went. He'd been in a plane for longer than six hours before, lots of times, but it was not his preferred means of travel. But while he was thinking of it, there were a couple of points to bring up with his guests before they landed, and by extension, before he went to sleep before they landed. "Natasha, Cecily... Thank you for coming. If you've never been to Mexico, I need to tell you, the weapons laws are stricter there than here. I can carry because I have history and licensing. I don't think we'll be in the country long enough for me to push through permits for you, either. If you two get caught and I can't bribe the right people, there could be problems. Best to leave anything on the plane." It went without saying that they would be surrounded by armed and pissed off members of the Gonzalez clan, alongside local MSS personnel when after they landed. It was an odd time, and Monterrey was full of its own dangers and problems. Still, Caesar felt a little better about their safety, being away from Justice for a day or two.

"There's a bar, and movies, and food... and other stuff on this plane. Mi casa es, right? I'm going to get a little sleep." Absently, he wondered who would be there to meet them after they landed in Monterrey.

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Chicago Heights: - Amy Adams smiled brightly as the door opened, the camera man pointing the camera at her and Iris. "This is Amy Adams live with Channel 6 news, speaking with Dr. Iris Kingston. Dr. Kingston, yesterday we caught live footage of a man being taken in an ambulance with what looked like traumatic damage to his face as well as bodies being taken out later in body bags. Not to mention the arrival of the SWAT team at the Justice Asylum. Would you care to comment to on the matter? Sources tell us that not only was at least one person killed, but another was kidnapped! A patient of yours. How does that make you feel?" she rambled off quickly before shoving the mic into Iris's face.

Zoies Farm: - Zoie gave Marc a quick run down of a few things but she didn't bring up the whole thing with the items her and Mali had spoken about the night before. Marc listened and gave a quick nod before looking over at Mali. "Well, then you are one up on me. My taste in novels blew when I was in high school," he said chuckling a bit before looking back down at his phone.

"Zoie... take a look at this... Is this who I think it is?" he asked before handing the phone over to her. Zoie took the phone and glanced at the image that was pulled up on the screen. She chocked a brow and then nodded.

"Yeah, I pretty damns sure that be Barney Ross," she said before handing the phone back to him. It was a name that was pretty well known in world - he had infomercials on the TV constantly with his work out program. It was like P90 to the extreme. He was known as a trainer, one of the worlds tops these days for Body Builders and had coached the last three Mr. Universes and last years Ms. Universe.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, what in the hell is he doing in a family picture with Proserpine..." he muttered under his breath.

Safehouse - Roy looked over at Riley once she was finished changing and gave her two very enthusiastic thumbs up. "Damn girl, like the look. Think you would fool your own mother with that. Should be helpful," he said as he stood up slowly and groaned a bit. "Well there are a couple of things I think we need to look into but first things first," he added as he stepped over to the wall and grabbed an empty dufflebag.

He started picking our several different guns and ammo for it. "I think it's time for you to learn how to use some of these. even if you never need it better to know how to use it. Fuck, if Justice doesn't kill you, maybe some stalker fan will try. Can't always count on a hired body guard," he said as he zipped up the bag and looked over to her. "So, what do you say? Ready to become a badass?" he said trying to lighten the mood.

MSS Private Jet: - The plane taxied down the runway and slowly started gaining speed. There was a feel of gravity kicking in as the wheels left the ground and it started to ascend into the sky. Natasha placed her hand on her stomach, she already felt queezy from her medication, this was not making it any better. Looking over towards Caesar she nodded a bit. "Wouldn't matter for me I don't know how to use a gun," she admitted. She kind of wished she did now, Lincoln did and he on more than one occasion had offered to teach her but she had never gotten around to it.

"Though, guess I might want to leave these on the plane," she said as she reached under her seat and pulled out her carry on. Unzipping it she pulled out a matching set of daggers. They weren't hers but a friends. "Friend left these at my place and figured I'd bring them along considering everything. Knives I know, guns I don't," she added before zipping it back up and sliding it back under the seat. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out her swiss army knife. "Don't think this will be a problem though, least I hope not."

Shrugging she put it back away and undid opened her purse, pulling out a small black bag as the pilot announced they had reached cruising altitude. "Cecily, how about we take a look and get that wound a new bandage on it."

Justice Airport: - Time was ticking away slowly in the airport. The arrivals were on the boards through out the place and the one from Seattle seemed to be running on time, T-Minus 30 minutes until touch down. Granted that probably meant 45 to an hour until the plane was actually deboarded. Still the airport was a good place for people watching. It was like Walmart on crack... People in pajamas, leather, feathers in their hair. There was even one woman running around in her workout gear looking as if she decided since she had to wait on her flight that she would do her daily run right there in airport. She had already done three laps passed Keystone at this point. What the fuck was with Americans?

Zoie withheld the information about Egypt and such from Marc. That was another entry into the mental record book that would eventually become an actual journal once Mali got the chance to visit a Target. This was starting to feel like a game of Go Fish with everyone only partially aware of everyone else's hand. Trying to guess what everyone may or may not know was already getting old, how anybody did this long enough to become the leader of a vast conspiracy theory was beyond her.

"They're obviously related. Everyone has a family whether they like it or not. All the codenames and reputation in the world doesn't alter the fact. For all we know she's just a normal woman with her family in that picture." As much as her brain was wired to think that there were no coincidences, Mali didn't get the astonishment at this revelation. You don't choose your family, and that Barney Ross was related to Valentine or Prosperine or whatever didn't really say too much about either of them or the greater implications of this new knowledge. Nobody knew of their relationship beyond the photo, and any conjecture would simply end up being gossip.

Eating the broth suddenly seemed to be the least of Felix's problems, regarding the taste at least. Wasn't mind blowing or something to make him feel instantly cured but it was edible and had taste. He sighed when he'd had enough of his meal and processed where he was. He was hooked up so much he dared move too quickly in case something came loose but he felt certain be wouldn't be attacked in such a condition.

He wished he wasn't in such a vulnerable position. Looking to his arm as he moved it up and down with gentle concentration he felt the needle in his arm and on usual occasions would have flinched but fortunately for him it was already in and helping him apparently, as wherever the tubes that were tucked snug in his nostrils apparently. Little did he know they were for oxygen in his mind he was sure that was just another way for them to apply medication to him. It was soothing, compared to the explosion of pain he last remembered.

Groaning, he leaned up after finishing his meal, to get the remote for the TV which was nearby. He always did enjoy the media, always lit up his day. With a squint of his good eye he turned on the TV and went to set it to the news channel, eager to see if something juicy had been dug up by the news team yet or better yet, imagine if this was his night to make the news. Well probably the ambulance he was packed into. He looked to the TV hoping it was going to work, he wasn't sure of the state of hospitals over here, god knows if they had proper working Televisions.

A bitter breathy laugh escaped his lips as he put the channel on and put the remote down. A small part of him was calling out to go back to that moment and make that crayon go deeper. Now he was stuck in here without Marc or Riley or anyone. He was alone and vulnerable, anyone would make easy work of him. He groaned and laid back. He deserved it. The long wait for survival or death. A preference to live was obviously present in everyone but a small part of him wondered if the alternative would be better for him.

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Riley smiled slightly as she played with the fake hair she was wearing, and went over to sit back down on the table pulling out one more breakfast burrito. "Thanks and I could like totally start acting like a bible thumper as well to fool her even more." She said with a slight laugh, though that would probably the absolutely last thing that she would ever see herself doing. As Riley started to eat the burrito she looked up at Roy as he got up and went over to grabbing a duffle bag and then filling it up with some guns and ammo. She bit her lower lip for a moment as she thought about it for awhile.

Remembering the first time she had ever used a gun was to end the Murder High Reunion, to kill Chris her former classmate who was the serial killer. She since then did take some self defense classes like kickboxing as well as Brazilian jujitsu, though he did have a good point she did need to learn to shoot. After her encounter yesterday in the hospital parking lot, she didn't want to end up someone like Chloe and Ronnie. "I only fired a gun once, and that was at an old classmate that went serial killer at my high school reunion." Riley said with a slight smile as she stood up and gave him a nod. "Teach me then sensei make me a badass like you are." Riley said with a smile.

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It surprised Cecily to learn that Mexico had stricter weapons laws. For whatever reason, she had been under the impression that it would be the opposite. It was something that she had never really considered, to the extent that the more she thought about it, the more clueless she felt about Mexico as a whole. She had been there once or twice before, but she had been young--too young to actually comprehend another country, another culture. The mention of "other stuff" also caught her attention. What qualified as other stuff? She tilted her head slightly, but Caesar had been through a lot. It'd be best to let him sleep and she could find out for herself what other stuff meant later.

She noticed Natasha putting her hand on the stomach, her heart instantly going out to the woman. Here she was, still on medication for cancer treatment, and she was flying for six hours to Mexico. It didn't seem to be healthy in the slightest. If anything happened to Natasha, Cecily would likely feel personally responsible for it. "I'm not that good a shot anyways," Cecily joked, taking out her own gun and setting it down. A few classes with it hadn't turned her into Black Widow just yet. And it wasn't likely to ever happen. She wasn't like Natasha or Caesar. She wasn't deadly.

Once the pilot announced cruising altitude, some old habits of Cecily kicked in, telling her to take out a laptop and start watching movies. She nipped that small little urge before she did anything, knowing that it was time for Natasha to check out her wound and (hopefully) proclaim nothing wrong with it. She really didn't want to have to get emergency medical services at cruising altitude.

"Sounds good to me, Doc," Cecily nodded, pulling off her jacket and then maneuvering the sleeve of her t-shirt so that way Natasha had access to the wound. Cecily then bit her lip. "Does it look okay to you?"

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Iris blinked as Amy Adams started talking at a speed that way exceeded a kilometer a minute. She could hardly comprehend all of the words that Amy Adams spilled out, taking a few seconds to recall exactly what had been said. Just a few minutes ago she had been informed of the gag order and now, the press was quite literally on her doorstep. She opened her mouth for a moment, before closing it again. She tried to be an honest person and didn't want to lie to the press, but at the same time, she also knew that it wasn't worth losing her job over. There were still more people in the asylum that she could help.

"I am afraid that I cannot comment on events happening at the asylum, due to patient confidentiality," Iris finally said, smiling nervously and apologetically at Amy. Her eyes darted into the camera every so often, revealing that the young psychiatrist hadn't spent all too much time on television before. In fact, she couldn't recall ever being on television. She had never been involved in something that merited the attention of the press.

"And...I'm just doing my best to help people?" Iris finished, shrugging her shoulders slightly. Amy's question about how that made her feel was echoing through Iris' mind. She wanted to tell the woman that she was devastated and felt like a failure, but the gag order had been clear. Information would be released later on and for now, no one was to talk to the press about what had happened. "Bien...Anything else I could help you with, madame?" Her accent was doing a little none thing that happened when Iris was nervous and uncertain--switching wildly between the British influence of her mother and the French influence of her father.

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Caesar hadn't intended for the conversation to drift toward the legalities of carrying weapons in Mexico. All he wanted was an hour or two to get something resembling meaningful sleep before they landed in Monterrey. In the air, the possibility of an incident or attacker was minimal (as were their options were something to happen), so this was probably the safest that Caesar ad his guests were going to be for quite a while; the perfect time to catch up on his Zs. However, a brief overview of weapon policy did look like a valid topic before he nodded off.

It was early in the morning still, but that didn't stop Caesar from ambling over to the bar and pouring a tumbler of mescal. A tiny second of ...well, not happiness, by a long shot, but a split second when the world did not suck, was felt when he uncovered a cloach containing croissants and fruit. He picked up a buttery, flaky piece of french goodness, grabbed his drink, and turned to Natasha and Cecily.

"They don't like knives, either. Northern Mexico is a little more relaxed, but the cops are the cops. Common practice is to shake down tourists with fines, then say that they can be paid immediately." Well, Caesar would know. His own history has him with a full career as a Federale, the good and the bad of it, retiring as a Commandant. "Corruption is massive. A street level operator can make a good living like that." He tore off a piece of croissant with his teeth and washed it down with the clear, pungent booze. "Unless it's a tool. Farming, fishing, whatever. Fully legal."

"Military, Federales, and Private Security can carry whatever the hell they want to, short of military hardware. Active or retired. Everything needs a license." By this time, the elder Mexican had found his way back to his seat and reclined it. The mescal was safely holstered in a nearby cupholder and he clutched his croissant in one hand, settling back in his seat like he owned the place.

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Meanwhile, Keystone continued to slowly sip his insanely potent energy beverage and watch people move past him. Some were one-shot visitors into his field of vision, but a few made repeat appearances, like the lady getting her laps in, jogging around the terminal with wearing the same track suit that one might wear were they running a trail in the park or around the neighborhood. It was by the third time that Keystone noticed that the mild paranoia common to all security professionals making itself known, and he made mental note of the inappropriate jogger. Yeah, it was probably just nerves. But better safe than sorry. It would be potentially embarrassing for something unfortunate to happen while he was sporting MSS credentials. Though, as Keystone thought about it, that would really be more of a black eye to the TSA.

He also made note of the nearest points of egress, were he inclined to make a hasty exit. And hell, while he was at it, he scanned the room, attempting to pin down any other seemingly casual individuals that didn't quite look like they were waiting on a plane to arrive. The fact that Keystone was going to be at this exact place at this exact time, waiting on a plane to arrive was not exactly a matter of sworn secrecy. So, he made his little observations, sipped his beverage (slowly), and continued his wait for a few key members of the Seattle Tech Crew to arrive.

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Chicago Heights : - Amy Adams was having nothing of this patient confidentiality speak. Yeah, she knew the law. Doctors couldn't speak about their patients but Amy also knew a story when she smelled one. She was like a dog with a bone and she wasn't about to give up just because that line was spouted off to her by some new doctor in town. The reporter hadn't gotten to be the main girl when it came live news by backing down from a story so easily.

Smiling over to the camera man before looking back at Iris. "So you are saying that the persons rolled out in the body bag and ambulance respectively were patients of yours?" she asked before getting a smirky look on her face. "That must be a horrible thing, that you have not only lost a patient but another is in the hospital... Or is that one in the morgue as well by now?"

Zoies Farm: - Zoie pursed her lips as she gave Marc a look. Marc nodded towards Mali. "Yeah she might be then but she is anything but a normal woman now and well....," Marc said as he rubbed his chin. Relic had already pulled his laptop out and was hitting the keys rapidly. "What are you doing?" Marc asked, wondering just what in the world the kid was up to with having his laptop out already.

"Hacking the CIA data base," Relic said without batting an eye.

"You're doing what?" Zoie snapped, nearly choking on her cup of coffee.

"I didn't hear that..." Marc added as he covered his face.

"Don't you two start," Relic muttered under his breath as he kept typing away.

"This is your fault," Zoie said as she grabbed a rag and started cleaning up the coffee she had half spit out on the floor.

"My fault?!?! He's your brother!"

"Yer the one thats got him to hack Queensguard, after he crippled the FBI database. Fars as he's concerned you gave him a free pass," she sneered.

"Basically," Relic said with a chuckle. Marc groaned, that was all he needed, being there for a hacking of the CIA.

Safehouse - Roy looked over at Riley stunned. That wasn't something he was expecting to hear from the pop star. There had to be a story behind that. "Okay, get in the car. I want that story while we are on our way," Roy said as he opened the door for her and grabbed the bag. "This I gotta hear," he chuckled as he waited for Riley.

Hopping into the car he tossed the bag into the back and fastened his seat belt. "You shot a serial killer? Okay, secret badass, dish it out," he said as he started up the car. Seemed she had been through more than he had expected, he'd have to look into this town she talked about going to school at. It would take them a bit to get to the shooting range, so hopefully they would have time for him to hear the whole story.

MSS Private Jet: - "Good to know," Natasha said over to Caesar as he explained a bit about how things went down in Mexico. It partially surprised her that the laws were so strict, especially with the reported crime and corruption that went on down there. She half figured that things had been a lot more lax but then again she never had studied up on the laws in Mexico. The most she knew about the country was what was reported on the news and what she had learned in various history classes in High School and College. Sure she spoke the language but that was from years of working in Emergency Medicine in areas with high populations of Hispanics. It was a have to know language.

Looking over at Cecily she took a breath and slipped on a pair of sterile gloves before she got to work on the injury. Thankfully it looked to be healing up alright. There was no sign of infection, which was good. "Yeah, it is healing very well. I can probably remove the stitches in about four more days," she said in a reassuring voice as she got to work re-cleaning the wound and bandaging back up. "Just keep it clean and try not to over do it for the next few days and you should be good to go. If you end up having any fever or it starts getting red, let me know right away," she added as she finished up and slipped the gloves off her hands.

"Is there somewhere I can dispose of this?" she asked Caesar as she held up the gloves and the bunch of used gauze she had taken off Cecily. It hadn't taken her too long to take care of the cleaning and re-bandaging of the wound and thankfully the plane was steady now that it had reached cruising altitude.

Justice Airport: - The woman who decided to do her workout in the middle of the airport finally seemed to finish. At least the majority of it that is. She was walking at this point and taking an additional lap to cool down as she pressed her fingers to her throat and looked down at her watch. Heart Rate check. She came to a slow stop in front of one of the various TV's that was playing in one of the restaurants that lined the terminal. On the TV was Amy Adams with the doctor from the asylum the day before. One couldn't hear what was being talked about but streaming across the bottom of the TV it had the headline "The Insane Strike Back At Justice Asylum."

Over the intercom, a broke voice echoed through the terminal. "Flight 1873 from Seattle arriving at Gate 18D" - Seemed the teams flight was coming in ahead of schedule, not by much, but hey, thirty minutes meant not having to watch workout girl take another lap.

Justice Memorial: - The TV flipped on and Felix found one of the many news channels to watch. Channel 6 news was just one of the news stations in Justice. Yet the TV was on Channel 31. It was a smaller station that didn't have the influence or money that Channel 6 did. Yet they were still on the air, public broadcasting had it's perks. They could focus things that some stations would over look or gloss over. "Christine Smith here and this is your Daily Update at 10. Crime is on the rise here in Justice and nothing better exhibits that than the mass gang driven drive by that occurred down at Club AfterDark. More than a dozen were gunned down, including the Mei Hung better known as Dragon. While she seemed to have been the target there were several innocent by-standards. There is no word from the local police on the status of the investigation but we have reports of rampant corruption within the system."

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Cecily let out a sigh of relief, hearing that her wound was healing up nicely. She winced slightly as Natasha cleaned up the wound, but was glad that she didn't feel feverish or dizzy or anything. And as far as she could tell by craning her neck over to look, there wasn't much redness at all. Thinking back to the Discworld series, of which she had only finished the first book a few months back, the Lady must have decided to be kind to her in that moment.

"Thank you so much, Natasha," Cecily said, smiling. It was a big relief to have a doctor traveling with her, as much as she wanted Natasha to be able to relax and rest herself. "Please get some rest...You more than deserve it," Cecily added, hoping that once Natasha had thrown out the gauge would be able to get some rest. The doctor was way too overworked for someone having gone through cancer treatments, in Cecily's opinion. Hell, she was probably overworked for a normal doctor in general.

Cecily then pulled Jessica Jones: Alias Vol. 1 out from her bag, figuring that it would be a decent way to pass the time. She needed to take it easy as well and there wasn't much else they could do on a plane, as far as Cecily was concerned. And with Netflix annoyingly still not releasing the second season of Marvel's Jessica Jones, this was pretty much one of the only ways she could relive the adventures of her favorite superhero. She didn't quite feel like watching David Tennant torment Krysten Ritter at the moment--comics it was, then.

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Iris frowned a bit. That wasn't what she meant at all. However, per confidentiality laws, she couldn't just explain that two patients were responsible for the attacks and that they had injured an orderly and a visitor. She would likely not only lose her job, but her license as well. And unfortunately, this reporter didn't seem to care that Iris couldn't talk, insistent on digging and digging for a story. She regretted pretending not to speak English and conducting herself in French.

"As I said, I cannot discuss the yesterday's events with you," Iris repeated, sighing a bit as she tugged a bit on her hair. "I am not at liberty to say anything relating to what happened. So if that's all you want, bien, please leave."

The smirky look on Amy Adams' face bothered Iris, but the doctor was a bit too polite to just slam the door in her face. Somehow, Iris expected that Adams would give up and leave her be, letting her head off to work. She was a bit disappointed in her colleagues as well, with all of them seemingly just shoving Iris' contact information at anyone who asked. It wasn't the most friendly thing to do for the new doctor in town.

Spooning the jello into his mouth, Felix found himself on this more "run down" news channel. Well maybe that was a bit harsh, he'd describe as less popular and not as mainstream as the usual Channel 6 which he had seen more often than 31. He appreciated the fact the hospital had some amenities available, he'd just end up getting angry and conflicted with himself if he had found himself stuck in a hospital with nothing but his own mind for company.

He blinked as he viewed the channel, biting down on his lip weakly as he heard the news. Shit was getting way too heated. If he wasn't hospitalised, Felix would have already got himself a safe house sorted out, but he didn't have any contacts available. But with so many people dying at an alarming rate... He shook his head with a sigh of relief as the pain wasn't too bad now. A cold feeling of dread hung over him though, thinking about what he was getting from the news. At first glance the innocent bystanders would be just extras, no one would have cared about them. But is it possible they could've been those hostages Riley talked of.

He attempted to sit up to get a better angle, but this was making his head race and flood with fear and ideas. He had to write this down, quickly. That girl the news talked about, she was that roller skater. And if he recalled correctly one of them was killed in a road accident, and who could forget the shooting at the roller derby he had been at. Thinking back...it seemed this roller derby and the girls in it were somehow the biggest targets. He went to the remote and pressed down on the button that would call for assistance, like a personal bell.