THE Van pulled up outside the unassuming and darkened warehouse in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Mississippi. The driver stepped out and even though he felt confident nobody was around, checked anyway before going inside.
Inside the dimly-lit warehouse, two other men, one short African-American with black hair and beard and one extremely tall and muscular man with a thick moustache looked as the man in the Cowboy hat approached them.
"Boys," said the man. "All quiet?"
"As always, Montana," said the short man. "Nobody ever comes this way. You should know that by now."
"I do know that, Dan," replied Montana. "But we cannot ever afford to let our guard down."
"That's what we need to catch Tuttle with, right?" said the large man.
"Indeed, Ox," said Montana. "What have you learned from what we found in the woods near to his home?"
Fancy Dan opened up a box on a nearby table. "Not a lot, to be honest with you. It's some incredible-looking tech. I just can't figure out where the bottom half of it is."
Montana looked into the box at the two deadly-looking sonic gauntlets as well as the top half of a somewhat blooded yellow quilted suit and tech helmet. He gave a smirk. "It may take us a while, but I can afford to wait. The longer we stay hidden, the more the old fool Tuttle will forget about us. And then when he and his dear ol' Momma least expect it, we'll strike…and they won't know what's hit 'em!"