*HIATUS*Relapse

Coincidence

Containment unit 103-2978, Mayurr district

It was only six, but it had gotten dark quickly. Almost as though trying to serve as a foreshadowing of future circumstances. An unforeseen predicament. A stomach-churning death.

"Ouch."

Xander had scratched himself on the thorn of the overgrown bush they had been hiding behind for the past hour, a good distance from the containment unit they were spying on. This was his first stakeout, and it was nothing like the stupid spy movies he never watched made it seem. It was painstaking, unexciting, and boring. He was hungry for action. Perhaps, he had gotten too used to the sharp scent of freshly shed blood. Maybe, he actually enjoyed it. Either way, he was eager to kill. Restorationist soldiers stood in an unmoving line in front of the containment unit.

"I'm sick of this," groaned Xander.

Malik subtly rolled his eyes and turned to face Xander. "We've barely been here an hour," he said undertone. " I wouldn't be surprised if we ended up having to wait much longer."

"Didn't we already watch people enter? Why are we still waiting?" Xander whispered irritatedly.

"Because the Damon person on the paper is the one meeting them. Not the other way around." He raised his head to take a peek at the soldiers. " If we attack now, we'd be killing our only shot at making some progress. Be patient."

Xander sunk back into the ground. "Damon," he scoffed, "what kind of dumb name is that?"

"I like it!" Taylor whispered excitedly.

"Of course you do." Xander continued to huff and puff, much to Malik's annoyance. He decided that if nobody showed up in the next five minutes, he would jump out and start cracking skulls, whether or not the others would stop him. Soon enough, their ears were greeted by the sound of rubber wheels drifting across the tarmac, as a big black car rolled in and came to a stop. The three instinctively shot further down into the bushes. Slowly, they peeked out from behind the leaves, watching as soldiers promptly stepped out of the car.

"That's a lot of security for one man," Malik commented.

Shortly after, a few other men, not in soldiers' uniforms, disembarked. They approached the door, and one man gave a series of patterned knocks. The door slipped open, and two men stepped out. The conversation couldn't be heard from where Xander and the others were hiding, but their expressions and mannerisms gave the impression of a quickly escalating disagreement as more men spilled out. Malik squinted his eyes to look a bit closer, then furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Something is wrong," Malik commented, slightly distressed, "there are far more people here than the paper implied there'd be." More men stepped outside, and now there were about fifteen men, excluding the soldiers, standing outside the containment unit, bickering about something the crew couldn't make out.

"What do we do?" Taylor whispered loudly, "This wasn't supposed to happen was it?"

"Let's just kill them already," Xander said, clenching his fists. Malik grabbed his wrists fiercely.

"Not yet. They don't look like they're arguing enough to break out into a physical fight. I think they're just as confused as to why there are this many people here. This might be a setup."

Xander unclenched his fists and turned back to look at the men.

"So where the hell is Damon!" One of the men finally shouted loud enough for the crew to hear, "We were supposed to be meeting him here! Why are all of you here instead?"

The man he had been yelling at smacked his teeth in annoyance. He rashly grabbed the collar of the other man and stared at him furiously.

"Don't fuck with me!" He exclaimed, globules of spit flying out of his mouth. "WE were supposed to have met with Damon. Are you trying to say he's not with you?"