The squall line was well formed off in the west as the approaching clouds continued to lower and darken. Sarah Gately stood up from where she had been leaning over looking through the eyepiece of her camera. She’d been observing the storm front for the last half hour, taking photographs and atmospheric measurements. A breath of cool wind from the approaching front blew in her face and pushed her shoulder length blonde hair back out of her green eyes. She reached up and pulled her hair back, wedging it behind her ear.

   The noise and whistle of the wind were growing into a howl. Again there was more lightning followed by claps of rolling thunder. The sky in front of her was turning a beautiful shade of emerald green as the wall cloud increased it’s rotation and lowered still more toward the ground. 

Moments later...

…Sarah could see the progress of the Tornado, now on the ground, and the truck as they pressed toward each other from her vantage point on the hill.

"Jon, I think this guy is trying to commit suicide!" she yelled into the walkie-talkie.
  Through her field glasses, she saw the truck jam on its’ breaks in the center of the road. It skidded to a stop right in the path of the Tornado that was swishing and sauntering on the prairie. The man frantically exited the truck, his long trench coat flailing in the wind. He had some sort of device in his hand and was wearing a helmet. He positioned himself beside the vehicle and lifted the device up in both hands, pointing it at the approaching vortex.