"Remain in the vehicle and put both hands on the steering wheel." Some things hadn't changed. The fuel may be totally different but the shape of a ground vehicle remained the same - form follows function, after all, and the means of steering it was still the same too. As was the procedure for dealing with a potentially armed suspect in a stolen vehicle. Marlene kept her gun levelled, ignoring the frantic demands in her ear of just what the fuck she thought she was doing. The vehicle had a single male occupant, Mixed race, mostly South East Asian, the readout told her, and his crime coefficient was still rating a kill-shot. That merited a warning. "I am legally bound to warn you that your crime coefficient is over five hundred. I strongly advise y-..." The perp jerked forward and his left hand moved, faster than Marlene could see. She squeezed the trigger instinctively and the lethal burst of energy leapt from the gun. Marlene was not on her feet to see the perp's head disintegrate. She was hurled backwards and spun around by a brutal impact to her body armour, landing heavily on her right side, her gun jerking free of her hand.<br/><br/>"OWWWW!" She groaned loudly, clutching at the spot and managing to burn her hand on the hot lead slug embedded in the plates. That didn't hurt half as much as the massive purple bruise that was blossoming unseen inside her clothing across her right breast. "Shit shit shit!" Her own coefficient, she noticed wryly, was way up around the high fifties, the highest it had been since she was a teenager. She managed to struggle back to her feet and looked from the Ferrari to Tess and back. Apparently she had a stronger stomach than she thought because she wasn't feeling sick, just really shaky.<br/><br/>It was about then that two other squad cars, these from the Greater Manchester Police and another Bureau car pulled up. Marlene remembered to recover her weapon, and staggered back to her vehicle to find Jameson waiting for her, his face a brooding storm worse than the one currently deluging the city. She pre-empted the obvious question. "It was a spur of the moment thing, okay?" She wandered over to the ambulance that had just pulled up too, and sat on the back as the paramedics stripped her to the waist, examined the blue, purple and gold colours on the right side of her chest, poked and prodded and declared nothing broken, then shot her full of painkillers. Jameson was examining the body of the perp. "Well I'll be damned. Switt, you just iced Marco Tondorez."<br/><br/>It took several seconds for her boss' words to penetrate the fog of pain and painkillers battling each other. Marco Tondorez was the most wanted criminal in England. He was responsible for the rape and murder of three entire families, and yet his crime coefficient was always around one hundred and ten. He had been caught by a random DNA check when trying to board the Liverpool to Dublin express train. Sentenced to life in prison because of his low coefficient, he had somehow escaped from Brixton Prison two weeks ago and had vanished. Why he had stolen the Ferrari, why his crime coefficient had been so high, they would never know.