Elita One has left. Elita One has arrived. At Muskrat Falls, the gig is up. The EDC--or whatever unmarked, black suited forces are also here--is operating in plain sight, hurriedly packing whatever supplies they can into transport trucks, which speed out of there the instant they're loaded. Cross himself is yelling at a scientist with a bunch of schematics in his arms. "But there's still more research inside, they didn't destroy everything--" the scientist protests. "You are GO for drop!" ___ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ / __| / _ \ | \| | / __| | | | | | (__ | (_) | | .` | \__ \ |_| |_| ___ ___ _____ ___ _ _ <> <> < <>