A.J. was tied up and blind folded, but talked freely.
“This base was to train fighter pilots in the basics of dogfighting against the Iron Republic. i was supposed to help the pilots escape for the future war, but I must have failed…based on this turn of events,” said the female subcommander, “The Pilots will arrive before dawn and the entire field will be bombed to dust soon after…”
Both were surprised that she knew this location was going to be hit, and wondered how complex an organization Leonin had back here.
“We have sent forward fifty two different pilots fully trained to assault the space stations over Earth,” A.J. continued, “But I don’t know where the bases are they are being sent. I just handle this base here.”
A shadow fell upon them, and Death strode from the jungle. His Skull mask partially obscured by a green brush hat. He raised a large machete and drew it firmly across her throat. Tossing her bloody body over his shouder, Death looked back at Scribe and Daron.
“Of your entire team, only you succeeded in taking down your target. You all will be returned to your own timeline for now. But you two have been granted special agent status. Take these communicators, they will allow the Four Horsemen to reach out to you if we need you. And it will allow you to call us in if Leonin makes contact again.”