Matamoros

Matamoros listened...but he really didn't understand much of what Gwen was talking about. Not that he was stupid, it's just that these overly elaborate methods of capture didn't appeal to him much. He preferred to track down someone the old fashioned way then finish them off. Then again, that wouldn't exactly work in this situation, considering there weren't any leads.

"Well, it appears you have everything covered. Only we know the true extent of the plan and each participant in this trap is completely in the dark about the overall operation. Sounds like it's as safe as it's going to get."

Matamoros leaned down and picked up Torquemada, putting his arm through the strap.

"Are we to inform Mr. Victor Jaramillo?" He threw that question out to throw them off balance.

"Your plan makes sense, except there's one problem. It is obvious that our opponent has made exclusive use of covert operations. With Rosalyn 'arrested,' the main arm of our opponent will be cut off. They won't send in their double knowing the real one is arrested. Everything would look too obvious. I don't know...

Matamoros crossed his arms and shook his head. "I don't particularly like this plan. It's too dangerous. It relies on our opponent making a careless move and come out into the open. If that fails, it will only leave our facilities open to Crey or anyone else." He sighed deeply "But...we don't have any other option open to us..."

Seeing Gwenivere lower her bow, he finally got back on his feet.

"This evidence points to you and you alone. I came to see how and why you did what you did. There is no motive for you to do this...that I know of anyway."

Matamoros looked around the room, everyone apparently looking at him to 'share what he knew.' He knew only what Physiks knew, other than Rosalyn's 'heretical' origins. "If you're looking at me for more information, you won't get any. I know only what Physiks knows. I came here to investigate further, but I was...interrupted." His eyes narrowed under his helmet as he looked at Gwenivere.

"The burden of proof is on Rosalyn. We already have a great deal of evidence pointing to her as the traitor." His head turned towards Rosalyn. "What do you propose we do? You can't expect to simply be...set free..."

Underneath the concealment of his helm, his eyes narrowed at Gwenivere. She seemed serious enough and he felt it was better to avoid testing her 'will.' There was nothing to be gained by it.

[ QUOTE ]
"Will someone PLEASE tell me what evidence implicates me for the treason I am investigating. I have no desire to make enemies of allies. I don't believe Matamoros is here to execute me."

She turned to him and gave him a questioning look. "Right?"

[/ QUOTE ]

"I know you all may not believe me, but she speaks the truth. I did not, in fact, come here to kill her. I assure you, if that was the case I would not have come in and engaged her in such a manner," he said, pointing towards the combat knife. "There are various...factors...that prevent me from fully engaging Rosalyn and outright executing her." Again, he looked towards Rosalyn, glancing briefly at the cross that hung around her neck. Of course, no one else could see precisely what he was looking at, but he had a feeling Rosalyn would know.

"Now then," he continued, "I'm sure Ms. Feynman will explain to you the implications that have been made." His gaze shifted to Gwenivere. "I am not here to kill any of you, so unless you plan on killing me now, you can put the bow down."

[ QUOTE ]
"Hold it right there, 'Matamoros'." An arrow was already nocked in her bow and the string pulled back, the shaft squarely aimed at the joint between his chest plastron and his helmet. "Your rather savage reputation precedes you... and right now I'm in no mood to clean up any mess of yours. Both of you, turn around, palms against the walls, NOW."

[/ QUOTE ]

Matamoros' gaze first went to Clarisa as she barged in, but he turned his head immediately towards Gwenivere, considering she was the one pointing a weapon at him. His response to he threat was loud, almost villainous, laughter. It was full of confidence, nearly to the point of arrogance.

"Please," he said to her as he began to raise himself, "do not insult me with idle threats. You know damn well you won't kill me. That is precisely what separates us. I have the will to finish the job, while you simply drop responsibility for criminals on a weak and corrupt society."

After his rather insulting comments to Gwenivere, he turned his head back towards Clarisa. "Hello, Ms. Clarisa Feynman." At this point he had risen to one knee and was surrounded by powerful opponents. He might have been able to take on one, and, if luck was on his side, possibly two, but not all three. "So, what is it you intend to do with me?" He questioned mockingly.

To Matamoros, her words sounded like truth, but he had already begun his 'interrogation' of her and couldn't simply put down his weapons and leave. If he did something like that, it would be a sign of weakness and he would lose his credibility both in Legion and 'on the streets.'

She had struck out against his face, but he had stepped to the side, avoiding it easily. "Surely she's holding back," he thought to himself.

"If all that matters to you is ultimately the belief in God, then why would you be so concerned with women being in positions of power? See, it's all a power-play to you people."

Matamoros threw several jabs at Rosalyn, each being easily blocked and parried aside. She returned with a upward punch towards his gut, bouncing him up slightly, but much of the impact was absorbed by his armor. Rosalyn was momentarily surprised, as if she had forgotten about the armor. She quickly recovered, but Matamoros had already taken advantage. He grabbed her arm, pulled her forward, then spun around and grabbed her from behind, placing the knife against her neck.

"Ask your 'beloved' Clarisa for the evidence. There wasn't exactly much evidence, but it was pretty damning. You can stop playing stupid now and just tell me who you're working for." He tapped the knife against her neck a few times as a reminder of his leverage over her.

Rosalyn gave a powerful elbow to the side of Matamoros, grabbed his arm, and quickly threw him off. Matamoros hit the ground hard, his armor adding weight to the impact. The knife now laid on the floor in front of Rosalyn and she casually picked it up.

"Under normal circumstances, I would believe you because of your sincerity, but I tend not to believe heretics. Tell me, why should I believe someone who doesn't even have a loyalty to their own church?"

Matamoros sighed and paused for a moment, thinking to himself. "Apparently she is unware of the fact that she has been implicated as the traitor." he thought to himself. "I guess they didn't give you the courtesy of informing you. Makes sense, I guess. Maybe they want to catch you in the act or, perhaps, catch any possible co-conspirators." He saw that Rosalyn was getting a bit impatient with his ranting, so he got straight to the point. "You, my dear, have been implicated as the traitor. Physiks believes there is sufficient evidence to prove you as such. That is enough for Legion. Now it's merely our turn to do what we do.

Matamoros leaned to the side and slid his assault rifle strap off of his shoulder and dropped it to the ground with a loud thump. "I wish I could believe your innocence," he said as he glanced at her cross, which raised some anger within him, "but I know how YOU people are. You lie and deceive others for your own personal satisfaction and gain. You concoct fallacies merely to spite a church which refuses to bow before you."

Entering a lowered, defensive stance, he continues to speak. "I want you to know that, in doing this, I'm hurting my self moreso than you." He quickly drew a combat knife from his belt.

With the greatest of grace, Matamoros bowed, lowering his right arm across his abdomen. "I, my dear," he said introducing himself, "am an 'agent' as well, you could say. Call me 'Matamoros.'" He straightened up again, adjusting his assault rifle strap. "You're lucky, heretic, for I'm not here to kill you...yet, anyway..."

Matamoros paced around the apartment living him, his eyes remained locked on her at all times. "What exactly did you steal from Physiks and why? Who are you working for? Illuminati? Children of Sin? Hell, are you matriarchal blasphemers breaking the truce and making a direct attack on the Church itself? Tell me, or else," he balled his fist, his knuckles cracking, "I might have to FORCE it out of you."

The armored inquisitor, Matamoros, stood leaning against the guard rails of the balcony. Agent Rosalyn's movements did not escape his observation as he watched her enter and take her seat at a computer. Apparently she did not see him, for it had already grown dark outside and there was no light illuminating the balcony. As he continued to watch her, Matamoros noticed water speckling on his visor. He looked up and saw that a light rain was picking up.

Lowering his head back towards the glass door of the balcony, he took hold of the handle and blatantly walked in, speaking as he did so. "So, is it treason again," he said, nodding towards the computer, "or more heresy?"

(sorry for the delay...was gonna post earlier but apparently the forums were down for "maintenance" )

Night was falling upon Paragon city. The crimson sky slowly faded to darkness, the sunlight being replaced by the myriad of lights flickering on throughout Paragon.

Matamoros was kneeling on a rooftop overlooking a street lined with apartment buildings. Torquemada, his assault rifle, was strapped onto his back, keeping the majority of his cape from blowing in the wind.

"Do you have my data yet?" Matamoros said, speaking into his helmet comm.

"Give me a second," a voice replied, "I'm sending it now. Hm, seems she's, well, one of the heretics."

"What are you talking about...?" Matamoros questioned, confused.

"This Rosalyn woman. We have a surprising number of files on record for her. She's one of the heretics."

"What heretics? There's a lot of heretics out there..."

"Da Vinci Code tells about them..."

"Oh," Matamoros said quietly, "them."

"I'd be careful. We don't know what they could be trying to pull here. Maybe this whole 'traitor' deal was a ruse, some sort of plot."

"Well, that's what I'm going to find out. Matamoros, out." Matamoros cut the comm just as the man was about to reply with another generic warning.

Zooming in with his visor, Matamoros spotted Rosalyn walk into an apartment building, apparently making a quick stop home or perhaps just crashing for the night. He dashed across the roof and lept onto the proper building. With swift movements he had lept and crawled his way across the various obstructions (air ducts and what-not) found on the rooftop and swung down onto a balcony. He rested casually on the guard railing and waited, peering in through the glass door. Several minutes later, the front door within the apartment opened and the silhouette of a woman entered and lights throughout the apartment flicked on.

"Nice place you have here, Agent..." Matamoros said to Rosalyn.

[ QUOTE ]
"The login belonged to ...Agent Rosalyn. We since placed her account in a quarentine, so that she can still use it, but we are recording everything she is doing. So far, she's just logged in once to get email and sent documents to Legion. Nothing suspicious." Sykes slumped back in the chair and sighed heavily. Then, he looked up to see how the others we taking the news.

[/ QUOTE ]

Victor's confident aura instantly vanished, replaced instead by one of anger and mistrust. The Spaniard approached Sykes, leaning towards him threatingly. "I hope you understand the accusations you are making, Mr. Sykes. You are accusing one of your finest agents of treason." He leaned in a little closer. "I, for one, do not appreciate such an insult." Stepping and turning away from Sykes, he pointed at him and said, "You are an incompetent fool. I will get to the bottom of this myself." Victor walked to the door and stomped out of the room.

"No," Victor was thinking to himself, "it cannot be Rosalyn. I looked into her eyes, her very soul. I felt no guilt, no aura of deceit. But, there's something not right here in Physiks. I feel something, an aura I haven't felt in years." He entered the elevator and made his way out of the building and back towards the Legion compound.

=====

'Agent Rosalyn' was walking in the park. She found an unoccupied bench near a pond, one that did not have any pedestrians near it, and sat down. She was waiting for someone.

"Good, agent. You're on time." A man with a large trenchcoat said, a tall collar and a hat covering most of his face. He didn't really look all that suspiscious because of a good cold weather snap that was moving through Paragon. A puff of smoke billowed from a cigar that was clentched in the man's teeth as he stepped out from behind a tree.

"I am the most efficient agent you have," 'Rosalyn' said, "I have the data."

"Good," the man said, approaching her. A gust of wind blew, moving brushing his collar aside for a brief moment, revealing half of the man's face. His features and skin tone were much like that of Victor, a tanned Roman-esque man, but half of his face was completely covered in a web of scars.

'Rosalyn' had a brief moment of shock, but continued. "Do you have my money?"

"Do not worry about your pay, mercenary. My employers have plenty of cash to throw at you, just do your damn job," he took another puff of his cigar, "unless, of course, you wish to be involved in some sort of...'accident.'"

The female agent, 'Rosalyn,' pulled a small manila envelope from her coat and handed it to the man. "Here's your stuff. I might me more time to get anything more. I think they're on to me. Legion is on to me."

The man cringed upon hearing the name of Legion. "Do not worry about Legion, Victor, or whatever lackeys he's hired. I'll take of them myself.

'Rosalyn' laughed to herself and looked towards the pond for a brief moment. "Being that I'm in such danger of being caught, I should get paid a little more. You know, get some sort of compensation?" The woman smirked and turned her back towards the man, but he was gone. "What the...?" Her head darted around, looking for where he had gone, but saw nothing.

In the main lobby of Physiks, Victor stood with his entourage, men in black suits, black sunglasses, and earpieces. A large grin stretched in the corner of his mouth and he was beaming with confidence. He figured this was about the traitor and he was going to enjoy breaking him or her for more information.

Victor waited, his hands on the top of a cane. He had made a very recent habit of carrying one incase of his many 'outbreaks' of the strange side-effects he had been experiencing. It gave him something to clutch to and tense his muscles, somewhat covering the full effects of the tremors.

"Ms. Feynman will see you now, sir." A secretary said.

"Thank you, my dear." Victor nodded to his men to follow and they did, having already checked in their weapons. Victor made the elevator ride up to Ms. Feynman's office and made his way down the hall towards the office room itself. He straightened his coat and knocked on the door...

[ QUOTE ]
It made contact with the pixie’s face and she flew backwards, landing in a cat-like squat. “Ow” said the pixie in her freakishly calm voice, “I will enjoy your death very much” said the little girl as she began to fade once again and this time she was teleporting this way and that making it very hard for her to even be detected

[/ QUOTE ]

"I shall not fall to you harpies this day! It is I who will be victorious this day!" Matamoros yelled as he pulled several small container of caltrops from his utility belt. He scattered them all over the floor in front of him and, although she was teleporting haphazardly, she was bound to hit some of them. She would either step on the sharp objects, or be forced to slow down to avoid them.

Matamoros placed his back against a pillar to ward of an attack, should she attempt to teleport behind him. Squatting in a firing position with his assault rifle low at his side, he pulled a trigger, unleashing a huge flame from under the barrel of his gun. He sprayed much of the room in front of him with his flamethrower, setting much of the richly table cloths, curtains, potted plants, etc. alight. Since he could not see her or predict her movement, he would simply spray an inferno in front of him, creating a field of fire and spikes for her to cross.

"Hmph, by evactuating all of the bystanders you've only made this easier on me. Now I don't have to worry about collateral damage." He said to himself.

[ QUOTE ]
“Ha! Are you really serious” the goddess laughed at the grenade as it zoomed through the air toward the goddess, “Did you forget what happened to your last grenade?”

The grenade drifted through the air but was enveloped, once again, in the shadowy embrace of the shadow charmer. “don’t tell me you forgot about you first dance partner” said the pixie. She grenade was muted and the shadow loosened. “Mommy, I want this man’s blood on my hands you must help our new friend Lenny” she whispered in her characteristic mischievous whisper. The pixie now began to teleport this way and that. She ended up inches in front of Matamoros, her claws trajectory was aiming directly for Matamoros’s heart.

[/ QUOTE ]

Matamoros didn't manage to dodge the attack properly. Although he twisted his body to the side in an attempt to avoid the claws, it was a tad bit too late. The claws slashed the outside of the armor, eventually piercing into it. However, the armor was thick enough to save him, for it slowed the momentum of the attack enough to prevent the claws from piercing his breastbone and entering his heart.

Matamoros looked down at the wound, then up to the girls face. This girl had become more than a mere nuisance at this point and was now considered a true threat. He was truly angered now, for she managed to spill his blood.

As his blood dripped down his chest beneath the armor, his rage slowly increased, focusing on his target. His harms twitched with anger, eventually being unleashed. Matamoros clutched his assault rifle and swung it directly at the girls face, throwing the energy and momentum of his entire body behind it.

Matamoros emptied his magazine at the woman, each round being stopped cold mere centimeters in front of her. In retaliation, the woman launched a psionic attack. It was not fully or easily visible, but the strange energy vibe that passed through Matamoros' body alerted him to it. He managed to brace himself for the attack, which knocked him several feet back and into a pillar, cracking it.

Matamoros fell to one knee, but within a few seconds he stood again, cracking his neck. "That's quite some power you have there," he said, raising his assault rifle towards her, the grenade maganize rotating a fresh round in, "but I know you cannot keep up these shields and attacks forever. Your psychic powers are based upon your willpower and I know that you can only stand so much. Soon you will grow weary and you will be all mine!" A grin stretched up in the corner of his mouth under his full-helm as he pulled the trigger, firing a grenade at her.

His rant was somewhat a bluff, somewhat true, the bluff being that he too was growing weary. "I know you're poking around in here," he was thinking to himself, "but I assure you, my willpower is far greater than you could possibly imagine."

((Just make up a room number?))

[ QUOTE ]
The pixie shrieked as the tazer hit her shoulder and filled her tiny form with electricity. Matamoros looked on, and he heard the shriek become maniacal laughter. The electrically charged girl now faced him. Her steel grey eyes were black as twilight and she spoke in a wavering tone, “like I said Before, Nice toys” She seized the sides Matamoros’s head and kissed him with electricity still flowing from the tazer.

“CHARMER!! BE CAREFUL!!” yelled the goddess, revealing a brief moment of compassion

[/ QUOTE ]

"Bloody hell!" Matamoros screamed, his Spanish accent becoming most apparent, ironically, while screaming this stereotypically British phrase. The electricity-charged girl had essentially given the tazer's energy, and then some, back to him. The data systems, scanning devices, etc. within the helm and armor began to short circuit. A few small ports and panels around the helm popped open and a charred smell filled the room. His HUD became static then shut off completely.

The girl, satisfied with her work, dropped Matamoros to the floor, his helm and chest armor now smoldering, the area around the 'kiss' burnt black. For a moment, Matamoros laid there, as if dead. Slowly, laughter built up in his helm. It was laughter full of confidence, arrogance, and sounded almost...villainous. The girl's eyes widened a bit in surprise.

The helm's HUD flickered back on, "Secondary Systems: Online" flashed within his visor and he stood back up. Matamoros placed his hand on his neck and cracked it. "Seems you have more tricks up your sleeve than I had originally thought. Here I thought you Masquerade people were nothing more than a dime-store Illuminati."

Matamoros rolled to the side and quickly retrieved his assault rifle once more, the switch still on 'Full Automatic.' "You want to play, demoness? Alright, let's play." Matamoros squeezed the trigger...

"Hm," Victor placed his hand to his chin, the other behind his back, as he looked upon the documents. His tremors had ceased for the moment. "Continue what you've been doing so far monitor everything. Set up security cameras where there were none before. Do the same with guards and security. Have everyone sign in and out when moving into secure areas, if you don't already do that."

Victor pulled several official looking documents from a desk drawer. "I will place the intelligence units I currently have assigned to this operation under your command for now." He quickly wrote several things on the documents, mainly signatures. "I will call up my expert teams for this operation as well, but they're currently tied up with something at the moment, so they'll need some time."

Victor finished filling out his forms and gazed upon his statue for a moment, then towards the weapons racks. "This would be much easier if you let us take care of everything...the Legion way...but I know Ms. Feynman will not have it."

"Amateur," Matamoros said as the girl vanished. Quickly, he lifted his left hand, his right darting to his wrist and flipping up a panel. He quickly pressed several buttons on a revealed keypad. Seemingly out of nowhere, a small metallic cube materialized and fired off multiple targeting in every direction. Instantly, his HUD in his visor bombarded him with information and his view switched to thermal imaging.

Within a few seconds, he spotted a heat signature, that of the girl, apparently, rushing at him. Matamoros managed to (barely) sidestep her blade attack, extend his foot forward, and trip the girl. He reached towards his utility belt, producing a taser. "Under normal circumstances, my dear, I wouldn't hesitate to kill my foe, but being a young woman has granted you my mercy." He thrusted the taser towards her.

With the psychic attack wearing off, Matamoros was once again able to defend himself, but apparently the little girl was attempting to incapacitate him. Matamoros was rather confident he could simply throw her off, but when he tried, it was apparent she had some unknown source of immense strength. His eyes darted around the room, searching for a method of escape.

"Hmm, there's the glass from all the broken windows. I could slam her on that. Pillars too." Under his helmet his face tightened and his teeth were clenched. The girl was twisting his arms harder every second and was beginning to put a real hurting on him.

"She may be crazy," he said between grunts of pain, "but she's still just a young girl...so glass it out." Matamoros rose from his knees, the girl still clutching his arms, and threw himself, with the girl facing towards it, into a pillar. He felt an arm go free and with the other arm he tossed the girl off...but she looked relatively unscathed.

Matamoros jumped back towards his assault rifle, rolling, grabbing it, and standing back up. He raised the rifle and flicked the switch into full auto in one swift motion and took aim...but hesitated for one brief moment.

((Actually, I'm technically a hero, it's just this char never considers himself a "cape"...*shifty eyes* ignore the fact that he wears a cape...))

Everything was happening almost too quickly for him to follow, however his training was managing to keep him on the ball. He was preparing to unleash another storm of lead, this time on the little bladed 'freak,' as he thought of her, but a massive pain began to build in his temples.

"Dammit, psychic attacks." Upon finishing his statement, the pain became horrendous and he fell to his knees, screaming. "Aaahh! I...need...to do...something!" Matamoros managed to quickly reach towards his utility belt and pull out a flash-bang grenade and pull the pin, but was unable to throw it. He clutched his helm again in pain, dropping the grenade. It managed to roll slightly further into the room before exploding.

On a rooftop overlooking the little 'party,' a lone gunman kneeled, watching over the building like a hawk watches its prey. One hand was grip of his massive, multi-faceted assault rifle, the other hand was gripping the edge of the rooftop. A long breeze lifted his cape upward and to the side as he continued to keep watch.

The gunman was clad in an advanced set of armor, made up of various layers of composite plates as well as sensor and EMP shielding devices. The armor completely sheathed his torso and arms. Wrapped around his hands were a pair of chain and plate gloves, his legs were covered in baggy cargo pants which were tucked into a pair of black jackboots. His head was completely encased in a metallic helm, the forward part of the helm resembling a gas mask, and an antenna protruding from the right side of the helm. On his cape was a massive cross resembling that of the Templars. The entire outfit retained a red and gold color scheme.

The gunman, Matamoros, was monitoring the entire party, both visually and through audio. He zoomed in the vision through his visor. Nothing seemed to be wrong so far. It appeared to be a normal, upper-class party, but his intel sources have never been wrong before. He continued to wait.

The audio he was receiving contained much static, but he could still generally make out was being said. Suddenly, he heard what was obviously trouble. "...you have to die!" came in over his audio channels as well as the gasps of terror from the crowd.

"Time to move in," Matamoros said to himself, standing and raising his assault rifle. He then noticed a hero burst in...no...get TOSSED through one of the buildings windows. A moment later, another random person bursts into the building.

Matamoros frowned under his helm. "Leave it to the 'capes' to ruin a perfectly planned operation." His cape whipped up in the wind as if in response to the 'capes' comment. Matamoros backed up on the rooftop, a red glow activating around his feet, and with astounding speed he bursted forward, leaping from the rooftop, and through yet another unbroken window, rolling forward and rising to his feet. His eyes darted around the room quickly, acquiring targets.

((Wow, the statue is especially befitting...a saint with a sword, lol. Those pictures work very well, actually. ))



Victor was pleased to see someone take such interest in historical artifacts, but he realized that business had to be taken care of as well.

"Tell me, agent...I'm sorry, I don't believe I got your name...what information on the traitor do you have so far? Does Physiks have any general idea on who or what this person may be working for? Once you find out who it is," Victor stood and walked over to the wall and pulled a rapier from a displayed scabbard, "we at Legion have ways of extracting further information," he said, drawing his fingers down the blade.



(( This is the statue of Santiago Matamoros (St. James the Moor Slayer) that stands in his office. ))

((I am somewhat familiar with the DaVinci Code and what not, but not enough to know the significance of the Roseline))

Victor took an immediate liking of the agent. She was disciplined, straight forward, militaristic...she had everything Legion sought in their own employees/forces...too bad she was a woman, though.

"Yes, I'm sure this problem will be resolved swiftly and without incident. It is obvious we've already detected the presence of a traitor, now it's just a matter of time before we find out who it is and who this person works for." Victor stepped behind his desk and gestured towards the chairs in front of it. "Please, have a seat." He sat in his high-backed executive-type chair. "I shall personally oversee this operation, but, of course, Ms. Feynman shall be informed of all actions I take. I shall also call upon my finest investigators to take care of this matter."

Victor noticed that he was still clutching the letter opener and that it probably looked awkward. He placed it upon his desk and took hold of some rosary beads that hung from a small lamp. "I don't know if either you are religious, but I am." He was again covering for his new 'illness.' "God will not favor the enemy, especially since they're using such underhanded tactics."

He noticed Rosalyn was taking an interest in her surroundings, although she was obviously resisting any urge to say anything. "Feel free to look around. Seeing as we are allies now, I have nothing to hide from you." He gestured to the surrounding walls where display cases of various historical artifacts stood. Several bookcases where old books tattered from age were also against the walls. Several sets of medieval armor also decorated the room. "As you can see, I have the development of human weaponry through history surrounding me. I find it quite fitting, considering what we do here at Legion." He smirked slightly. Perhaps he would enjoy working with this newly introduced Physiks employee.

"Straight to business. I like that." Victor said, taking the pen and book into his own hands. He quickly and fancifully signed the receipt book as if he was a king signing a decree into law. But, apparently the quick and delicate signature movements had triggered something throughout the muscles in his arm again. "Goddammit, not now," he thought as his hand began to twitch slightly. Victor handed the book and pen back to the Agent and grabbed the first thing he saw, a random letter opener, and clutched it extremely tightly into his hand in an attempt to hide his...ill effects. He tried to play off the random grab by placing his hands on the package as if he was to immediately open it.

"You must be the Physiks security agents Ms. Feynman promised to send me. Lady Gwenivere and I are already...acquainted...but would you give me the pleasure of introducing yourself?" Victor said to the agent. "I will need you to coordinate a plan with my intelligence units so that we can bring this traitor into the open. We will make a public example of him...or her...so that no one dare try to challenge us!" He noticed he was beginning to sound a tad too zelous. He pushed back a few loose hairs and calmed himself...hoping his hand would return to normal...or that they would not notice it.