Anchor slid once again across the room, propelled far by Tanks throw. Though thrown the same direction, he flew much further this time, sliding across the floor with more speed. When he reached the already broken window, he slid through all the way, tumbling down to the ground floor. It hurt, but nothing serious. Despite the fact that he could get up right away, he lay there for a moment, simply thinking. He had hoped he could overcome this enemy with sheer brute force, but clearly that wasn't the case.
In Atlantis, he had been taught to now show his hand until the enemy had shown theirs. Now that he had a good look at Tank's cards, the deck was stacked. Hopefully, that is. He would have to stay away from Torch, as fire wasn't exactly healthy for an Atlantean. How useful it would've been if he had been allowed to study sorcery back beneath the sea, and douse out the hotheaded adversary.
By the time he was up and ready to get going once again, Anchor was interrupted by a couple of communications by Little Brother. The messages were more redundant than helpful to Anchor, though. As Little Brother Warned him, he saw the van driving away, Tank at the wheel. Though he tried to chase it, he was unable to catch up until Kira stopped it. All the while he ran, his anchor trailed behind him awkwardly, skidding across the asphalt.
Anchor assessed the situation as he neared the van. It appeared that Torch was being handled effectively by Little Brother, and his main Target was to be Tank. Though he knew very little, it was obvious that Kira was readying to ram Tank with the Turtle. Were he to distract Tank, it would almost guarantee the success of her assault. He lined up the scenario in his mind, hoping it would play out like he hoped. So, getting a grip on his anchor, he shouted loudly. "Oi, Tank, you walking slab of meat! I've seen better throws in Little League baseball!" Rahn'Niss adjusted his grip on his anchor, getting ready to attack once Tank was incapacitated.