[For his part, Black Hat has his back to Flug, staring out the window at the cold autumn weather. Every now and then a spark of fire erupts in his hand, growing in intensity before snuffing itself out. He needs to assure himself he's in control again, that the last vestiges of whatever chemical the traitors had concocted were truly gone.]

That will be all.

[Fwoosh. Another flame is born, flares, and dies, and Black Hat spins on his heel, approaching Flug.]

What is your assessment of these monsters, doctor? Are they willing to take extreme measures? Would going to this meeting be worth our time?

[Can we rope them into a murder crusade against all who dared to cross the BHO?]