Ben dashes around the side of the warehouse, diving into a roll when a whirlwind of icy air clips his shoulder.

"The hell's this -- "

The mini-twister makes for him again, and he catches a flash of movement from the corner of his eye; he turns and fires, hearing a strangled cry.

The funnel disappears and he picks himself up, double-checks his Colt, and hurries as fast as possible around the building, listening.