“And by plan, I don’t mean inviting your weird-old war buddies over to bust shit up,” Simon said as he, Blake and Angela crept through the stark corridors of this abandoned hospital-cum-secret government facility. Gunfire echoed in the distance.

“Simon’s right, Uncle Blake,” Angela agreed. “I wouldn’t call ‘busting shit up’ a plan.”

Blake gave an exasperated sigh. “I wouldn’t call it a plan, either. I’d call it a distraction. The Baron is doing his part; now, we do ours.”

“Which is?” Simon asked.

Blake rolled his eyes. “We grab Dead Girl and the vamp, then we get out of here and figure out what the hell is turning the citizens of Chicago into a bunch of bloodthirsty freaks.”

“That’s not a plan,” Simon said, “that’s a to-do list. You do know what a plan is, right?”

“Yeah, and that doesn’t explain Lilith’s part in this,” Angela added.

“When did you guys get so whiny?” Blake growled, silencing any further debate. The trio turned a corner, and stumbled right into a war zone.

“Frak,” they said in unison.