First Day of the Rest of your Life

"I've never arrested someone before..." Leon muttered to himself. He looked up at the exchange happening on front of him, and then behind him. He reached for an M9 pistol. He frowned at it, and looked back up at the two men. He could hear the wind blowing a can down the street and the gentle, burbling idle of the high-compression Lamborghini V10. His mind was furiously going through every arrest he had seen, real or fictional. He was analyzing every aspect, checking every detail, successful or unsuccessful. He looked for optimization patterns, critical inconsistencies, and qualities of the method. His eyes narrowed, realizing what he must do.

He put the M9 back and grabbed an M4 and a non-lethal temporary paralyzation grenade, better known as a "flashbomb".

Without hesitation, he immediately opened the door, standing behind it, and fire once between the two men. They suddenly started, without time to grab their guns. Hands! Ground! Now! He shouted. It was completely illegal and in no way held authority. In fact, if another police officer came by, they'd be likely to see Leon as the criminal. But that didn't matter, because Leon had the gun pointed at them first.

The first man, the mole, immediately froze, and then tried to run. Leon threw the Flashbomb, and ducked beneath the car door. The resulting explosion of light and sound shook the ground slightly, and he looked up to see the mole, on the ground, rolling on his back and moaning in pain. That's correct, Leon saw him moan, but did not hear him. He couldn't hear anything for a few seconds. He ran up toward the mole, now incapacitated. It was then that he noticed that the second man had left his field of vision.

The two figures turned and faced Leon, completely taken by surprise. The FBI mole was extremely shocked, while the other man, the giant, expressed slight disappointment. Events proceeded quickly, and the Mole, unprepared from anxiety, was taken out.

"My, my. Bold Interference from law enforcement. Admirable... but misguided." The other man, for someone his size, proved to be quite agile and quick, and grabs a hold of Leon's arm, painfully lifting him off by one limb, his iron grip unrelenting. The African warlord was inhuman in his proportions, nearly eight feet tall and with limbs and thick as normal men. One eye was covered with an stylized eye patch, and most of his skin was burnt, or covered with cybernetics.

"Tell me young man... do you not know who I am? Well... I don't suppose it matters. I hope you are prepared to die for your country, as I was mine. I am curious though. What do you know of this operation? Someone as intelligent as you could prove quite useful, perhaps more capable than this aging peer of yours." It seemed Baptiste was a cold, manipulative sort, speaking with Leon while squeezing his arm for emphasis. He wanted compliance, not to permanently damage Leon... as long as he gave what he wanted.

Ellie made no move yet, and was not particularly intent on doing so yet. The building's Security force was descending into the basement, its owners likely accomplices to this shady dealing. They came upon the Gallardo, but found it- and the wheelchair- empty.


Salvatore Baptiste

Int 7 Str 7 Spd 5 Dur 7 Fs 7