Tanya's hands clenched at her sides in fists so tight her knuckles turned white, and the thick, wide silver band around her left forearm had never felt so<em>tempting</em>.  Had she installed any of her offensive weapons for field testing in the last week or so, or did it still carry just the personal shielding and teleporter it usually did?  It took a nanosecond to check with the micro-computer built into the bracer.<br/><br/>Nope.  Just the shield and teleporter.  Dammit.<br/><br/>A cell phone sitting on a nearby table blared out a ringtone, some angry and bass-heavy song, right before it popped and crackled and exploded spectacularly in a shower of sparks and a puff of smoke.  Its owner cried out like his mother had just dropped dead, and clutched the shattered remains of the device to his chest.  "My little black book!"<br/><br/>Tayna closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centering herself.  Now was not the time to lose control, not with a meeting so important and scary as one with Overlord right around the corner.  Not with at least three trusting and friendly ATM machines along the way she might accidentally tell to commit suicide.  She opened her eyes again, forcing her inexplicable and murderous anger down, locking it back into the box in which it belonged.<br/><br/>"He wants the trash out, Jimmy," she said, and her smile was a little too sweet.  "I think that's your job, yeah?"<br/><br/>"Yeah," Jimmy agreed, cracking his knuckles before clapping one meaty hand on Preston's shoulder. "It's time to leave now," he announced, and attempted to shove him in the direction of the door via a handful of shirt.