Gibney ripped his mask off as he neared the Haven, leaving the cloth on the asphalt as he ran. The cuts caused by Lorna's knives slowly began to knit themselves closed as he rushed to the safety of the Haven. The sound of bending metal caused him to look over one shoulder as he ran, a toothy, wicked smirk curling his lips at what he saw. Good. Those bastards deserved it. Assured that he had a real chance at escape, he put his head down and pushed his body faster, heart pounding loudly in his chest and ears as the hope for freedom called him on.
He did not wait for the gates to open for him, instead he sprang into the air once he was a reasonable distance. Half jumping over, half scaling them, he threw his body over the tops and hit the ground with a low grunt, landing in a crouch, ready and waiting for someone to come meet him. He knew it was unlikely that the Haven would welcome him back with open arms, especially after what he had done the last time he encountered a Havenite. It had not been his choice, he regretted it deeply, but he had still robbed a girl of her life. Freed from the vigilance of his captors, he was ready to explain and, hopefully, earn himself a place within these walls once more. This was not the feral pup from before, Perfect Soldier had shaped him into something entirely new and different.
Not far behind him, the men in the van scrambled to get their communications gear back online. They needed to call for backup, needed to get their gunmen unwrapped from a ball of mental and most importantly, needed to get the hell out of there before the rogue Weapon turned on them. This was what they would consider a bad day. A very bad day, and of course, there would be hell to pay.