"This it?" Fusco scrunched his face in a look of doubt. It was a dilapidated, old eyesore of a warehouse. Most of its windows were either cracked, broken or missing, and the side was nothing but a mess of streaks, upon streaks, of oxidized rust and a million layers of faded graffiti.

"Think so..., it's the right address. Pull inside, over there." Carter pointed to the half-open loading door, midway down the weed infested driveway.

They pulled into the long building, met by haphazard piles of old pallets, scantily dotted by faint sunbeams reaching from the broken windows above. Swirling dust was the only evidence of movement when they got out of the car.

Fusco complained. "So guess we beat him here, again? Loves to make us wait for him..."

"Hello Detectives."

"Geez! Anybody ever drop dead from you doing that?" Fusco clutched his chest in mock pain.

"Lots." Reese remembered. The skill had come in handy.

Fusco paled, knowing he meant it. "Well I for one, say you wear a bell from now on."

John ignored the comment, instead moving toward the trunk and Carter. "Good job manipulating Sinclair, by the way. Finch said the link was good. It seems you have a promising career as a spy." He softened his eyes recognizing she was up tight.

She self-consciously laughed. Damn him and those eyes. She wasn't about to let him get off that easy. "Thanks." Irrational as it was, she was still pissed at him for getting hurt. For scaring her. "Good job on wearing your vest. Glad you don't just dish out advice."

Reese knew he deserved that; he couldn't blame her for being mad. "It all worked out." He nonchalantly offered, trying to down-play the whole thing.

"Hey, remember me? Can we get on with this? Some of us have real jobs..." Fusco complained impatiently shifting.

"Feeling left out Fusco? There's a couple of bodies in the trunk to keep you company." Reese replied popping the trunk. "Help me get them out, Lionel."

Fusco glared daggers at John as he grabbed hold of the feet of first one. He did kind of feel sorry for him when he saw the effort it took to hide the pain the simple motion caused. "You figure out what they shot you with?"

Reese knelt to one knee and began a thorough exam of the Mercenaries' body armor and clothes as he removed them. "Yeah.., exploding bullets." John off handedly responded.

"You mean like the US Marshals use on planes?" Carter broke in. She hadn't heard that bit of information and scrutinized John's movements more intently.

"Close. But trust me when I say these were... improved."

Fusco crouched down next to John. "What do ya hope to find anyway?"

"I won't know until I find it." Reese dismissing answered, turning one of the guns over for a closer look.

Carter pulled back one of the guys' shirts. "Hey, I've seen those tattoos before. When I was in Iraq." She looked at Reese. "We were joined by a group of specialists - outside hires. It was a particularly bad hostage situation involving the top execs of a private oil company. We couldn't openly be involved, so the company hired these guys to help."

Reese finished cutting off the guy's shirt and nodded in agreement. "These tattoos are unique to a Mercenary military group out of South Africa." John rolled to the balls of his feet. "Everything fits the profile - the skills, no records, no DNA, face or fingerprints on file. They're ghosts, just the way those groups like them." He taped his ear wig, "Finch?"

"Yes Mr. Reese, I heard."

"Might help to narrow your search to any groups out of that region." John got to his feet and began a slow pace around the bodies. "But their equipment... it goes beyond well funded. In fact, there isn't anything like these guns, bullets or armor available, even through black market channels. This gun uses DNA dependent, biometric programing and the armor is made of nano-altered cellulose fiber. I've heard about similar prototypes, but nothing in the field of this sophistication. Whoever hired them is uniquely well sourced. Bet we know who..."

"W.A.R." John heard in stereo from both Carter and Finch.

"That'd be my bet." Reese nodded.

"So let me get this straight. These guys are military mercenaries? We've got a bunch of heavily armed and insanely skilled soldiers, hired by some mysterious employer, running loose in the city to do who know's what?" Fusco stated. "Hey kinda like you, Wonder-boy."

Reese slowly pinned Fusco with an icy glare. "I don't help people for the money. Unlike you, Fusco."

"Hey! Should'a known you couldn't take a joke. Anyway, I help you two for free! So quick busting my balls!"

Carter broke in, "If you boys are done... How does all this tie into our five names?"

Reese turned his attention back to the gun he held in his hand. "We think they're working together."

"To do what?"

"That's the question I intend to answer tonight."

"Why? What're you planning now?" Carter worried.

If his dealings with these two Mercenaries was any indication, he had a feeling tonight would prove to be a definite challenge. He'd likely be up against a good number of pissed off men, dangerously equal to his skill level.

He had no idea what to expect, where he was going, or what the situation would be once he got there.

Somethings couldn't be planned for, that was just the nature of the job. Quickly assess and adapt as things developed. That's what he'd been taught to do, and honestly, he'd always been comfortable relying on his spur of the moment adaptabilities. Worrying about others had no place in the equation and wouldn't leave him free to do that. Even Carter wasn't trained for this class of adversary, so he kept his plans to himself.

Reese's face was neutral, revealing nothing. "Just gathering more intel, I'll be in touch." He met Carter's doubting look with a self-assured smile and turned to leave.

"And what about the bodies?"

Reese pivoted back toward Fusco, "I have every confidence you'll figure something out, Lionel."

Fusco humphed, "Son of a bitch, see what I gotta deal with. He do this to you?"

Distractedly, "Na Fusco, just you..." her attention was on Reese vanishing into the shadows, sure he was up to something... again. "Come on, let's call these in as a random body dump and get back. I want to see what we can find on this 'Event.'"