White noise burst from the television as an oppressive wave that filled the room to the point of bursting, bright light casting stark shadows from the few undamaged pieces of furniture that remained.

In one corner of the room cushions from the couch and chairs lay piled in a makeshift shelter, the occupant long gone.

A man sat on the rough fabric of a stripped chair facing the television and waited.

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He snorted; a small sound compared to the noise.

There was nothing he could do to save the mission, all the personal were gone or taken by the, well they were gone. He was no longer certain how many people had come to this house but instinct told him they numbered in the dozens.

He was the last.

His eyes hurt from watching the television and his ears hurt from using the white noise as a mask to cover his fear and pain. He no longer wanted to hear them, but he knew they would come soon.

The television served another purpose; they could not hear him prepare a last surprise.