"Are you ready?" Van Rook asked, strapping his jetpack to his muscular back. A young girl stood across from him, tightening her wrist blasters, her hazel eyes locking onto his dark ones.

"I've been ready since the night she died. That Saturday boy is gonna pay…" she replied, setting her jaw in anger.

"Good. Remember what he took from us, and let that fuel your anger" Van Rook advised, flipping down the faceplate on his mercenary helmet. Without another word, they left the mansion and shot up into the morning air, headed for the Saturday household.