War grinned. "You bet," she said, swinging one leg over the bike. Reaching into a pocket, she tugged out a pair of leather gloves - black with a red flash, perfectly matched to her nails and the paintwork on the bike.

She settled her helmet - not strictly necessary, but it saved being called over the police, so tiresome - down on her head. She turned her face to Pollution and nodded, as she turned on the ignition. They didn't have a plan, but she had a need for speed, and they could work out where they were going in the end later on.