As the ship horn sounded to signal that the ferry had finally arrived at its destination, Mason jumped down on the dock, soon followed by his cronies. The small group swam through an ocean of people. Making it to the sidelines unscathed, the ginger cat looked at the four felines that had accompanied him on his little revenge quest.

"You all know what we're in for, yes?" Mason spoke, beginning to pace in front of the four. All nodded their heads, none speaking a word. Tail flicking side to side, Mason purred sweetly, "Good, very good. Now I just want to make one thing clear. You all know that I want Ozone dead. But I am not going back to Staten Island until I see his head on a stake. Do I make myself clear?" Horrified expressions were carved into the faces of his henchmen. Gulping, three nodded their heads rapidly.

The fourth rushed out of sight to puke, the vision of a cat head on a stake disturbing him greatly.

Quiet for a few seconds, Mason finally piped up, "Three out of the four aren't wimps, I think I can live with that." The ginger cat then held up the once white handkerchief that he had brought along with him. The fabric was stained crimson with blood. Handing it to the best tracker amongst them all, Mason spoke in a firm tone, "Get tracking. The longer it takes to find them, the longer we're away from home."

Sniffing the blood, the tracking cat quickly caught the same scent. Mason and the others followed him as it led them towards the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan...