Chapter 7, The Den (Part 1)
The city skyline stretched out in all directions, a seemingly never ending sea of sharply angled rooftops and flickering lights. Vale was a far cry from the compact crush of the Last City, something that Hakke was only really able to comprehend now that he was gliding rooftop to rooftop. Remarkably wide streets and narrow alleyways criss crossed between buildings with almost Germanic accents. Actually, the amount of near-European architecture that was amalgamated in this city's style was incredible.
He added a mental note to investigate, or at least attempt to calculate, what the odds of Humanity evolving independently twice on two separate worlds and then coming up with the same building styles would be.
He had taken numerous detours as he followed Callie's instructions in pursuit of the Blue Suits. From the street, Vale was a straightforward, easily navigable grid. From the rooftops however, it was a maze; a confusing lattice of streets creating ravines, height changes in the roofs themselves building to building, and gaps created to allow small plazas and gardens in the centers of several buildings. They had gotten into some manner of transport, a car he guessed, and had taken off deeper into the city. The vehicle was fast, but not fast enough to lose a mobile tail like his Ghost. Of course, it was far faster than he could keep up with on foot like he was.
Not that he was complaining. Some time to clear his head was exactly what he needed after the week he was having.
Firstly, he should not have assumed that the Blue Suits were going to be an easy fight. He had been overconfident and acted as if some lowlife gangers from back home had jumped him in an alley. Everything he had seen so far indicated that the people of Remnant were significantly more durable than he was used to dealing with. Whether or not that had been down to bad luck on his part, or the fact that everyone here was like this he didn't know. He just didn't have a large enough sample size yet. Too many unknowns. He would need to do some serious research into what Aura allowed people to do. If every Huntsman was on a similar level to Tank Top, he would have some serious issues down the line.
Back home, his skills with a gun had allowed him to live, thrive, and survive without too much issue. Here however, it was looking more and more like that would not be enough. The people here seemed to be almost universally faster than back home. That alone gave them one hell of an advantage. Had Hakke seen faster? Yes, absolutely. Few things, let alone living ones, could hope to hold a candle to a veteran Hunter. Most of those that actually could keep up with that sort of speed had been other veteran Guardians.
Hakke was not one of them. Not even close.
21 years of combat experience made him a veteran fighter compared to normal humans. As far as Guardians went, he was positively mundane. The Warlock was good enough at this point that other Guardians didn't worry about him making incredibly obvious mistakes in combat; beyond that was a coin toss. As far as close combat went, he knew enough to not be useless when push came to shove.
Pun intended.
Even among his fellow Warlocks, his personal research had at most reconfirmed the work of those who came before. His comprehension of the Light especially was less than stellar. He had read every piece of literature he could find, performed his own experiments, meditated, everything a Warlock tended to do when presented with something they didn't understand. He had even dabbled ever so slightly in Thanatology before rapidly deciding there were better ways to spend an evening than sitting in a room and repeatedly shooting himself in the head. He knew what the Light could do, although that was something every Guardian knew in the most primitive and instinctual way possible. As a paracausal energy that permeated everything, there probably wasn't a limit on what could be done with the Light. Guardians for example were reborn in it, and were therefore paracausal entities by nature, capable of violating some of the most fundamental laws of the universe on a whim. If someone asked Hakke how the hell that worked though, he would be forced to shrug and tell them: it just did.
As he used said power to glide over what was normally a busy street, he ground his teeth in frustration. All of that was good and dandy, but it did nothing to help him cope with the Number One problem he had faced so far. One that outstripped the mysteries of the evaporating Grimm, or Aura, or Dust, or any other headache inducing novelty of Remnant.
The Barrier.
When Tank top had been trying his hardest to strangle the life out of Hakke, the Warlock had responded by casting his Dawn Blade, the attunement he was most familiar with. In a perfect world he would have burst into flames and cut the man in half with an explosive sword made of Solar Light. Instead, he had hit the Barrier. Under normal circumstances, casting his super felt like being submerged in a deep aquifer, if said aquifer was made of fire and he was the valve that released the pressure. Not a perfect analogy of course, but close enough. Once that valve opened he could take the exotic energies and direct them into the shape he desired. This time however, it had been like trying to vacuum a gallon of water through a pinhole in an instant. It hadn't roared or even poured, it had erupted out with all the subtlety of a geyser. Uncontrollable. Violent. Even by the standards of the Light.
He had detonated like a bomb. Literally.
He wasn't supposed to do that.
The fact that it had mostly worked was besides the point. The Barrier prevented him from properly bringing his most powerful abilities to bear as they should, and it even interfered with his simpler techniques. His Celestial Fire, the three orbs of Solar energy he launched from his hand, took him almost a full half second to generate and launch. A delay that would eventually cost him, if his luck held the way it was. Hell, even his trusty palm strike didn't seem to be hitting as hard as normal. Although he wasn't positive if that was because things here were tougher than back home, or if the Barrier was actually throwing him off. At least his Glide seemed largely unaffected, allowing him to keep to the rooftops easier.
He stopped on a flat rooftop, gathering his bearings. He was deep into the city at this point, and the traffic down below had begun to thicken, even this late at night. In every direction he looked, the city glowed and hummed. With another mental ping sent Callie's way, he shook his head. Instead of clearing his head out like he had hoped to do, he was instead frustrating himself. Or getting 'mopey' again, to use his Ghost's preferred term. He just didn't like having a problem this large that he couldn't see any real solutions to.
There were of course ways to gain insight on whatever was happening on this planet. Experiments to set up and run, meditations to conduct, that sort of thing. Problems for Future-Hakke to deal with, when there was time to run said experiments and meditation and whatnot.
Crossing a city while chasing after thugs was not an ideal time to do such things.
Callie sent a few directional pings his way, and once again he was off. Over another column of streets and another series of buildings and he soon found himself standing across the street from where she had said his quarry had fled to.
It was a squat five story brick building perfectly set into a near identical row of other five to eight story brick buildings. Its height was nothing to write home about, but it was wide. Either an apartment complex or office building he guessed. Next to it, and right on the street corner was a construction site for what seemed to be a seven story, probably soon-to-be brick building. That was guesswork for the moment, seeing as only the steel framework and general piping had been built, and the lower floors having some preliminary walls set up.
Hakke nodded. "Well, that's rather nondescript."
"I'm guessing that's the idea." Callie said. "I'm curious. Why are you so sure these goons are worth following? For all we know whatever that one man injected himself with is a common combat stim."
"Playing devil's advocate I see. You could be right, but I don't think so. I got a look at his buds when he was wailing on me. The way they were looking at him, that wasn't a normal thing that went down." Hakke reached into his side bag and pulled out the binoculars that he had been given back on Titan. A quick once over confirmed what he needed to know: they were completely fine. City-made goods were designed to be bomb-proof, with durability and redundancy built into the very framework of any product made for militia or Guardian use.
"Besides, it's not like we have anything better to do."
Callie mimed an eyebrow raise. "You haven't eaten anything in almost five days. The last water you drank was two days ago, and it was stagnant pond water at that. We don't have a place to stay, which you will need if you want to start tinkering again. Seriously Hakke, we've had this conversation before. I can keep the feeling of your body dying from dehydration and starvation at bay, I can't actually reverse the effects."
"Fine. We'll deal with my upkeep after this. I just have this gut feeling that this is relevant. Should be quick. We go in, find a sample of whatever that green stuff was, and get out. Easy. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"
"You did not just say that."
"It's been a bad, awful, frustrating week, yes. It can't stay that way. That's not how probability works."
"I can't believe you said that."
"Traveler's sake, we'll be fine. You'll be fine, at least." Hakke brought the binoculars to his eyes. "Back to the task at hand, what are we looking at here?"
Callie sighed. "It looks like some form of gang hideout. I'm picking up a number of individuals inside both the main building and the construction site next to it. It looks like most of them are armed as well. Carbines, by the look of it."
Hakke swept his gaze over the site, taking note of what Callie pointed out to him. Just as she had said, there were several men patrolling different levels of the construction site, lookouts he surmised. None were in the blue suits, but all of them had some article of clothing that had the same shade of blue. It was obviously some form of identifier; every sample was placed on a prominent part of the body in the form of scarves, bandanas, hats and other items of clothing.
Not very subtle, but if things turned into a firefight, it would keep friendly fire down by a noticeable degree. Something to keep note of.
There weren't all that many people on patrol here, thankfully. At most there were six in the construction site, and one man smoking a cigarette on the roof of the main brick building. Judging by how inattentive all the guards seemed, they weren't expecting trouble.
Perfect. Nice and exploitable.
Hakke jumped down onto a fire escape out of the line of sight of the sentries as Callie materialized his helmet back on. There was a high chance things would turn violent again, and if bullets started flying, he wanted as much protection as he could get.
"Ok, we're going to try to do this quietly."
"That is unexpected. We aren't doing a frontal assault like normal? Then again, I guess it is hard to go in guns blazing when we're out of bullets."
"That, and the people here have managed to kick my ass more than once. I think I'm finally starting to comprehend what that 'caution' thing you keep going on and on about." Under his helmet, he was smiling.
"It should be a wonderful learning experience either way."
A few minutes of maneuvering and clambering saw Hakke approaching the rooftop sentry from one of the adjacent buildings. The man was sitting on an AC unit facing the street, rifle balanced on his lap, and cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched something on his Scroll.
"Come on, Ingerland. Score some goals, wontcha?" The man grumbled, before Hakke smacked him in the back of the head with his recently looted staff-baton, knocking the man out. Hakke was actually a tad surprised at how easy it had been to take the man out. Either this grunt didn't have Aura, or he hadn't had it active. If it was the latter, that meant he could neutralize tougher opponents if he got the drop on them.
He rifled through the man's pockets, finding a fully loaded blocky pistol, several long plastic ribbons that Hakke quickly identified as some bizarre offshoot of zip tie, a key, and a modest sum of Lien.
Pocketing everything, he tied the man to one of the pipes sticking out of the AC unit and snapped the man's Scroll in half, an action he immediately regretted. While he doubted Roof Sentry here would have anything truly relevant on his personal Scroll, he should have actually checked. Oh well.
The rifle took up more of Hakke's attention. Unlike Slick's Theon Rifle, this one was of a noticeably lower quality. The ergonomics were nonexistent, and the entire weapon was largely a stockless rectangle with rudimentary holo-sights. It was, however, loaded and operational, making it worlds above the rest of his arsenal.
There was a doorway leading further down into the building from the roof. Hakke made his way over to it and unlocked it with the Sentry's key. No need to break any doors down, at least yet.
He stopped himself before heading down, turning to the unconscious Sentry one last time. The man had a blue scarf as his identifier. Hakke grabbed it, wrapping it around his own neck. With any luck it would buy him reaction time if he was caught, and hopefully just a touch of extra wiggle room in a gunfight.
Last piece obtained, he made his way through the door, down a flight of stairs, and into the building proper.
Turns out this building wasn't complete either. Drywall had been attached to most, but not all, of the walls. Joists and supportive structure marked where construction crews still needed to install proper walling. Opaque plastic tarps covered the windows and blocked off certain rooms and corridors, as both dust and basic sound barriers. One or two thicker tarps covered halls that still had the steel skeleton showing, with what Hakke assumed to be welding equipment stored nearby.
He silently padded along, careful not to bump into any of the equipment stashed along the sides, or to knock around any of the construction debris that was coating the plywood flooring. At least he assumed it was some form of plywood. So far he hadn't seen any other people, although he could hear the faint murmuring of voices ahead of him.
He arrived at the heart of the building, finding it to be an open shaft leading down to the ground floor. A steel and glass railing had been installed along every floor, although on the top floor the glass had yet to be attached. From the third floor down he could see lights and hear the whirr of a generator. The voices were coming from down below, and he estimated they were coming from the same floors that the lights were. Idle small talk by the sounds of it, just bored guards passing the time.
Hakke's first instinct was to jump down and use his glide to break his fall. His second instinct was to tell himself that was a terrible idea. If he was actually trying to do this quiet, jumping straight into what was probably the most populated area of the entire building was not the ideal play. Not to mention that his glide wasn't totally quiet. For whatever reason it actually gave a slight whistling sound, almost like steam escaping a vent when he activated it. Easy to mistake for wind if he was outdoors, but inside it would be a dead giveaway.
He looked around.
"Callie, is that elevator active?"
He had spotted the opening to an elevator shaft, and could see the connective cables installed and leading down into the dark. He walked over as Callie gave him the rundown.
"For the most part. It looks like the basic elevator platform has been constructed, or at least some form of freight elevator has been installed. Thankfully it's largely unfinished for the time being, I'm not seeing any doors installed in the system yet."
"The elevator itself?"
"At the bottom."
Hakke nodded. Inside the elevator shaft and along a harder to see wall was a maintenance ladder he could use to get to the lower levels. He scaled over and began to slide down towards the third floor.
Before he arrived though, one of the guards on the fourth floor said something that caught his attention.
" ~ pushing it too far, man. It's one thing to ice a beat cop on the street, but you can't just vanish 'em like this. Someone will find out. Especially not a detective, they're too high up the food chain." One man was saying.
"Will you shut the hell up before you get us both in trouble?" His partner quietly hissed. "You know who's coming to stick that pig, right? Imagine what she'd do if she heard you blabbering on like this. We'd both be dead!"
"She ain't coming tonight, no way no how. Not with Murex here, they hate each other."
"She'll come whenever she damn well feels like coming by. And if you don't shut yer yap she'll slice up whoever she feels like slicing up. That's gonna be us, you idiot."
Interesting. Making sure his helmet was muted, he asked his Ghost, "Any idea who these guys are talking about?"
"Who? The detective, Murex, or this mysterious 'She'?"
"Yes."
Callie chirped in his comm. "Unfortunately not. Odds are it's someone we haven't met yet. I'll look through the CCTS Network when I have a moment, see if I can find out anything."
"Are you seeing anything that might indicate a prisoner being held here?"
"Maybe? Plenty of activity down on the third floor. If there was a prisoner, that seems to be where they are holding them, unless there's more to this place than what I'm detecting. No cameras for me to hack into, but I am able to bounce inert signals off of their Scrolls, and since most of these guys have Scrolls on them..."
"You're able to figure out the position of the guards. Nice work, Callie."
"Now if we could only convince all the aliens of Sol to carry such exploitable technology on them, we would be unstoppable."
The two guards quieted down again, the quieter of the two succeeding in calming or scaring his partner into submission. Hakke continued sliding down, reaching the third floor opening. He got off the ladder, shimmying along the thin lip along the shaft's perimeter, and halted before actually going out.
"Let me know when there's an opening."
"Got it. When I give the go ahead, keep low and take a right immediately."
"Understood."
A pause, then, "Go!"
Hakke ducked out onto the third floor and went right into an unoccupied hallway. There were definitely more guards on the third floor, as even in his short jaunt through the open he saw at least five more men. He crept along, baton held in his right hand, pistol magnetized to his hip on his left. Everyone here seemed more partial to melee, and in the tight confines of the building it made sense to Hakke to have a melee weapon in his dominant hand. Besides, he wasn't the worst shot with his left.
The hallway led to another unfinished room with a sleek looking generator along one wall, wires stretching from the generator out towards the building center and in a myriad of other directions. A small alcove was situated off to one side, the entrance covered by a thick green tarp. Unlike most of the rooms he had been creeping through, this one had a work light set up on a table beside the generator, casting the room in harsh light. Next to the work light was a small case that had been left open, with three mutely glowing containers slotted in it. It wasn't the Green stuff, these were glowing yellow. There was another identical container currently slotted in a groove on the generator, the glowing substance half gone. They were fuel.
Dust.
Score.
Hakke looked around for guards and began to approach the table when he saw none. As he passed the alcove however he heard the distinct sound of a toilet flushing.
He stopped, standing in front of the tarp leading to the makeshift restroom as its occupant got themselves sorted. The tarp parted to reveal a man with messy hair and a blue bandana wrapped around his neck and a book in his hand. He froze upon seeing Hakke.
"Howdy." The Helmeted Warlock said, before chopping the man's throat with his baton. A quick knee to the gut and another smack with the baton and the man was out like a light. He returned the man to the makeshift lavatory, making sure no part of him stuck out past the tarp.
He picked up the dropped book. It looked like some form of fiction novel, or something similar, the title reading The Man with Two Souls. Hakke mentally shrugged and pocketed it. Maybe it would provide insight into the culture of Vale. Or Remnant. Or something.
He hurried over to his more true prize, the Dust batteries for the generator, taking two which were immediately transmatted away by Callie. Sample collected for later analysis, he continued on.
Once again, Callie's voice hummed over his comms.
"I think I found something, a small safe room structure on this floor, deeper in. If we were betting, I'd say it's the perfect place to look for either prisoners or our mysterious green consumable."
"How do you know it's a safehouse?"
"There's more guards there, and whenever one goes into the room, I can no longer ping their Scroll."
"Shielded?"
"I believe so."
With a destination now laid out, the Warlock hurried his pace. From Callie's readout it seemed the safe room was at most 12 meters from where he had been. He had needed to duck into a side room as a pair of guards walked past, but outside of that distraction he was there in no time flat. It was immediately obvious that Callie had been dead on.
In the middle of the building, built into the structural steel itself was an armored room approximately 4 meters square. Its sides were built out of an ugly, pitted gray metal that Hakke didn't recognize. A latticework of thin white wires and tubing stretched from its vertices and across the faces. He guessed they were the jammers, possibly acting as a high tech Faraday cage to block Scroll signals. On the front was a door that was flanked by two guards armed with carbines, with a large circular latch attached to the doors center. It looked like something that would be on a bank vault. Next to the door was a mechanical lock.
Not a digital one.
"See that lock?" Hakke asked. "What are the odds you could break that open, quickly and quietly?"
"Not good." Callie admitted. "I can construct a key easy enough for the lock, or I could transmat it off, but that may very likely activate some other security feature. It would be like when I hacked into the Scroll for the first time. I'm just not familiar enough with Remnant security to be able to do it quickly."
"Then we'll have to do something else."
Hakke thought for a moment. "I have an idea."
Hakke pulled the helmet off, setting on the ground for Callie to transmat to storage, swapped the pistol for the rifle, hung that on his back, grabbed his baton, adjusted his scarf, took a deep breath, and walked towards the guards.
The guards immediately bristled as he approached, snapping their guns at Hakke.
Gathering as much gravitas as he could muster, the Warlock gave a demand.
"Open it."
Hakke was banking on three things: He was fairly sure he looked like a Huntsmen, the conversation he had overheard earlier, and good old compartmentalization. This group obviously hired Huntsmen into their ranks, and into the higher tiers of the organization to boot, if Tank Top had been any indication. Not the best mind, but he could see more level headed Huntsmen running the show. Next, this hideout was expecting a visit from a respected, or at least feared, female higher up. They didn't know when, they just knew she was coming. He had no idea who that person actually was, but he had a bluff ready to go. Lastly, he was banking on the idea that this group didn't tell the peons what was happening, or who worked directly under who.
In other words, his plan boiled down to fake it 'till you make it.
The guards didn't immediately open fire, which was good. One of them began to speak.
"Who in the Brother's name are-"
Hakke cut him off. "The boss is on her way right now, I need to get in there and get everything prepared for her arrival."
"No. I don't know you-"
"That's the idea. Now open that door and let me do my job, or things are gonna get unpleasant for you."
"Nuh-uh." the guard's partner said. "We don't know you. You don't have the password. I don't care if you're the boss's right hand man, you-"
"You got five minutes before she gets here and mounts your heads on a pike. That is not a metaphor, by the way."
The two men visibly paled when he said that, and Hakke internally whooped for joy. Whoever this 'she' was, she deserved accolades galore for gaining such an abysmal reputation with her rank and file. All it took was non-subtle death threats and talking like he outranked them to earn their cooperation. Hopefully they didn't stop to actually think about what the hell was happening.
One of the guards slotted a card into the lock, and entered a passcode into a mechanical tumbler, followed by dull metal thuds echoing from deep within the door. He swung the door open, revealing the interior.
Steel plate covered the walls, floor, and ceiling. A single light shined from up above. And tied to a metal chair bolted to the floor in the center with a cloth bag over her head was what must have been that detective he had heard about.
She must have heard the door opening, as she immediately began to thrash against her restraints as an incredibly furious, muffled voice began to mumble out what Hakke could only assume was a stream of profanity. He didn't actually know, it seemed they had the detective gagged.
One guard walked in, and Hakke followed, making sure to stand close enough to the door that he could react if the other guard tried to close him in.
He gestured at the detective. "Get her up. We're taking her to the car."
The guard began to follow his instructions, but suddenly stopped.
"Car? The hell do you mean car?"
"How else would the boss get here?"
"Magenta only travels by Bullhead."
Silence. Hakke was painfully aware of both guards gazes resting on him. He had screwed up on some insignificant, arbitrary detail.
"Right." he said. When he got out of here, he decided to figure out what the hell a Bullhead was.
The guards and the Guardian stood motionless and silent, waiting for the other to make the first move. Even the detective realized something was happening, her thrashing and roars gone. The guard in the safe glanced at his partner, a small twitch in his eye.
It was enough.
Hakke thumbed the button to turn the baton into a staff, lodging it into the door as the guard outside tried to slam it close. His other hand threw a palm strike at the other guard, ricocheting the man's head off the kinetic ball and into the steel wall. Using the staff as a lever, he forced the vault open, kicking it as hard as he could manage as well. The other guard stumbled backwards, his carbine knocked out of his hands.
Surging forward, Hakke swung the staff like a club, knocking the man's legs out from under him before bringing it down on his chest, driving him into the floor. One guard down, he spun back around, retracting his weapon back into a baton. Inside the safe, the other guard was getting back up, so the Warlock pointed the baton and thumbed the button, sending the end of the staff rocketing into the man's head, where it repeated the last injury he had taken.
He hoisted the guard outside into the safe to join his comrade before tearing the bag off the detective. The look she gave him was a healthy mix of confusion and plain fury. He took note of several odd, animal-like features, specifically her ears. Guess she was a Faunus.
"I'm here to help." He told her as he removed the gag. "This place is crawling with these Blue bandana wearing morons, so I say we get the hell out of Dodge sooner rather than later."
"What? Who are you?" she demanded.
"Later." he responded, working on removing the bindings. Unfortunately, they weren't simple rope or plastic ties or anything else he could melt or burn through with Light. They were mechanically built into the chair, controlled by some device he didn't recognize.
"Callie, give me a hand."
His Ghost spoke up. "You sure? Keeping my existence secret is your safest option."
"Yes, I'm sure."
The detective was staring at him. "Who are you talking - whoah."
Callie materialized over Hakke's right shoulder and immediately began scanning the locks keeping the detective contained.
"So I take it you're a Huntsmen." she stated, eyes on his Ghost as one of her restraints opened.
"Eh, sure." Hakke responded. "Close enough."
He reached over his shoulder, pulling out the rifle he had taken earlier and handing it to the detective.
"This whole mess isn't going to go unnoticed for long, so there's a fairly high chance we're going to have to fight our way out of here. Is that something you can do?"
The last restraint opened and she stood up, grabbing the rifle. "Absolutely."
"Great. I'm Hakke and that's Callie. Now let's get out of here."
"Detective Cerulean. Lead the way."
They exited the safe room, Callie vanishing and Hakke taking a moment to close the door and turn the lock. He looked back to the detective, both nodding.
"We'll take the same route I took in. Should keep us away from the worst of the-"
"It's him! It's that gumshoe looking son of a bitch!" A very familiar and very unwelcome voice suddenly screeched.
Guardian and Detective spun around to face this new problem. Standing down a main hallway, flanked by several heavily armed guards, and with his arm in a sling, was Tank Top. Standing there, pointing directly at Hakke.
There was only one thing left to say.
"Well, shit."
I said I'd respond, and boy howdy here I go.'
I am making the executive decision to respond to everything in quasi-organized blocks. Its simpler and its also 3 AM right now.
The Baz - Them's fightin' words. Warlock all the way.
Guest(s) - Glad you all are enjoying it!
KyleDaTyle56 - Glad you like it, and don't worry, we'll get some sweet Dawnblade action eventually. One day.
ThePolishSausageRoaster - Good to see your enjoying the story! Unfortunately you seem to be right, I'm going to have to fill in quite a few gaps in the RWBY timeline as I go along. As for the earlier reviews, I agree on the Hive. Love those creepy space crustaceans, even if they can get irritating to fight in game. They just offer so many ways to make the characters miserable, its fantastic!
Dark Demon619 - I've always found situations where the characters are thrown off their game and have to punch up to be entertaining, that and throwing them headlong into scenarios they normally wouldn't have to deal with. Agree on the Ghost part, I've seen plenty of stories where the Ghost is gone, but in my opinion it offers more interesting options to have the Ghost tag along for the ride.
AtomicGod666 - Oz and crew are going to factor into this nightmare eventually, but it may be a bit before they make their first real appearance.
Ue1 - No comment.
Jctherebel - Excellent.
- RangoTango
