There was something strange about the way Andy handled the traffic stop with the two teens whom were apparently from a nearby high school. Perhaps it was just the culture shock of being in Toronto.

Every stop Ben had conducted was simple and formulaic. While not all motorists agreed, Ben still used the utmost discretion when handing out traffic tickets. Tickets were expensive, especially on the highways, and causing undue grief for a small mistake was something Ben just didn't want to do. Not all officers in his detachment agreed. The others were eager to fill their quota and jump to the next pay grade. But for Ben, being a cop was an end in itself. He was living the dream, at least until circumstances had forced him away from Trenton.

As his mind wandered back to the quiet country roads near the shores of Lake Ontario, Ben suddenly remembered something about one of the teens during the stop.

"That jacket the kid was wearing...I know that jacket. I had one of those."

"So?" replied Andy, clearly disinterested in what Ben had to say.

"They're not the kind of stuff you can find at Canadian Tire. It's top-of-the-line, full NIR spectrum stuff. Super expensive."

"So what?"

"It just seems odd that the guy dresses up like a mall ninja to go to school."

"Okay, cool."

"You have a history with that kid?"

"He doesn't know me personally, but his dad was an old collar of mine. Arrested him a few times for assault or something along those lines. He worked at a factory that went under a few years back."

"What happened to him?"

"About a year ago he blew his brains out."

"Jesus Christ. What's up with the kid?"

"I dunno. The kid's been collared once or twice since his father died, but I don't think he's that bad."

"Poor kid. I hope things are going better for him."


The school on Midland Avenue known to locals as Agincourt or ACI was founded in 1915 and built for residents of the farming community of Scarborough, just outside of Toronto. The building that stands on that site now was built in 1957 in response to the growing demands of what had become a burgeoning city.

As Tyler parked in a space marked "Student Parking Only", he lamented at how much things have changed since his father's time. Only two decades ago Agincourt's students spoke English and were red-blooded Canadians. Back then, the local school board was the Scarborough Board of Education, and what is now known as the City of Toronto was Metropolitan Toronto. Things were good back then. That is, until things started to change. The county became the City of Toronto. The Scarborough Board of Education dissolved. A tide of immigrants washed the Canada out of Scarborough. Scarborough started to spiral downwards. Looking back, the signs were already there, it just seemed that nobody noticed.

What he and Ethan were about to do was long overdue. The people of Toronto needed a wake-up call. They needed to know about the systematic genocide that has been happening right before their eyes. They needed to know about the lies they have been fed all their life.

"Is the coast clear?" asked Tyler.

Ethan glanced at the live camera feed on his phone.

"Coast is clear."

"Wouldn't have mattered anyway. How did you get the school's security system?"

"The school provisioned the all the computers with an old version of Faronics. It barely took a sweat to hack them."

"Stupid bitches."

"Once I had access all I had to do was run a privilege escalation script, disable buffer overflow protection, and connect the SCADA API through TCP 6667 to my command server."

"You're a smart motherfucker, you know that? Bitches won't know what hit 'em. You ready?"

"I'm always ready."

The two teens exited the car. Tyler popped the trunk.

"We got 15 minutes to plant the rest of the bombs. Loop the camera system."

"Already done."

"Let's go kill the weak ones."

"Godspeed."

"Do I have to say it?"


When Susan Storm arrived home, she didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. After series of overnight arsons had done extensive damage to several buildings on campus, Susan had decided to return home for a few days to grab a few things she forgot. With Ethan at school, she figured that she could slip in and out, and avoid contact the creepy bastard. Susan opened the garage. Her parents' cars were still inside. She made note to ask them what the occasion was. Parking on the outside on the driveway, Susan unlocked the front door. She opened it, oblivious to the pulley system hastily nailed above the door.


"Team Three, hot call. Explosion at 109 Salome Drive, Scarborough."