"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news here– given, it's really not anything new anymore– but we've gotta go. Like now. Now now, not later now. Five minutes ago, now."

Everyone in the room froze, exchanging troubled glances at the tone. Pied Piper reached up and tapped his comm. "What's wrong, Overwatch?"

"We've got incoming," Overwatch rushed out. "I swear, there wasn't anything on the monitors and I'm tied into everything, but one minute there's nothing and the next I have three trucks inbound and there's a jet overhead."

Everyone jumped into motion, grabbing their weapons and adjusting their armor as they geared up. Trucks held five, meaning fifteen people, and jets held between eight and seventeen. That meant twenty-three to thirty-two people incoming and at least two thirds of those would be Metas.

"How far out is Frost?" Piper demanded.

"I already called her back but she won't get here before them without some help."

"I'll get her," Wally said. He pulled his cowl up and was gone in a burst of wind.

Deadshot shouldered his gear and adjusted his goggles. "I'll provide cover, just be sure to let me know when everyone's clear this time."

"Once!" Trickster exclaimed "I forgot to tell you once! And that was years ago, you should really move on, 'Shot."

"I'll move on when your acne does, kid," Deadshot fired over his shoulder with a smirk.

"Enough," Maven scolded gently. "Trickster, go ahead and start activating your traps. Overwatch?"

"The jet is just circling right now," she informed them. "I think they're waiting for the trucks. Means they're probably norms. We lucked out a little."

"Yea, but if the jet is all norms that means chances are the trucks are all metas," Piper pointed out. "That's fifteen metas against our four, plus Trickster and Deadshot."

"First, I was trying to ignore that. Second, rude. I count, too, you know," Overwatch huffed. "I lost my legs, that doesn't make me useless."

"No, but you're still a norm," Deadshot cut in. "A paraplegic norm, at that. Your skills lie in the computers, not fighting. No offense."

"You know, adding 'no offense' doesn't make the statement any less offensive," Overwatch sniped. "That being said, Vibe has definitely gone dark. I know we weren't sure yet, but I'm having troubles accessing their systems."

"Just keep on it," Piper soothed. "They know we're here so no need to be gentle. Smash in any way you have to and bring that jet crashing down."

"Preferably not on us," Lady Frost offered.

Maven turned to see the woman brushing her hair back, casting Flash a scowl. "Welcome back, just in time."

"Some more warning would've been nice." Caitlin stepped around Wally and moved into position on Piper's left, leaving Maven to take his right. "If I have to travel by the Flash train, I'd rather do it powered down."

"Not the safest option with Eiling overhead."

Frost let out a low hum as they made their way outside.

"Overwatch, the moment that jet is down, you get out," Flash instructed, appearing between Piper and Maven. "Trickster, you go with her. Activate all of your traps."

"Will do, streaking man."

"Once," Wally blushed. "I've only streaked once and I was drunk at the time. It shouldn't count."

"I have pictures that say it totally counts," Overwatch offered. "Also, trucks've passed the outer perimeter."

"Deadshot?"

"I'm in position," Deadshot confirmed. "My shield's up, but so is theirs."

"Not for long," Overwatch mumbled.

Piper, Flash, Maven, and Frost exchanged glances once more before they exited the building– at least, what was left of the building. They spread out, readying themselves for what they all knew would most likely be their last stand.