The terrorists formed a circle at the intersection of Main and Gerrard, shuffling their feet at the thought of the impending battle. But there would be no battle, only a massacre. They were tired, malnourished, unfocused, and unorganized. Most of all, they were scared. Without the benefit of experience, motivation and clean underwear, they stood no chance against Mercury's best agents. They were only two men but with the calibers they possessed (literally and figuratively speaking) they could obliterate armies of thousands.
The taller of the two started to grin as he sized up his opponents. Thunder crackled in the distant and the air started to move as droplets started to appear on the terrorists faces.
One finally let out a whimper, dropped his weapon and started to run. In a flash the deserter fell on his face with a blade exposed from his neck.
And that was it. That was all the terrorists needed to see to confirm their suspicions as they abandoned their posts one by one.
The Upper Beach/Lower East York region was safe again from desolation. The heroes had arrived.