Dumas arched an eyebrow as White tapped their captive three times in rapid succession.  Showy, but effective.  Although this encounter hadn’t entirely changed Dumas’s opinion about people poking each other with oversized cocktail swords, he was forced to concede that the activity apparently possessed more real world applications than he would have imagined.  Releasing his grip on the man, Dumas watched him slump to the ground.<br/><br/>White’s insistence on his position in the ranks of the struggling poor earned a derisive snort.  “Yeah?  Daddy cut off your allowance this week because you didn’t do your chores?  That must suck.”  Dumas had served with people who risked their lives and their sanity every day, because that was the only way they could feed their families.  What sacrifices had White ever made?  Choosing between groceries and another fancy suit?<br/><br/>The sirens were getting closer now.  Beckoning for White to follow, Dumas darted down the alleyway.  At first, he moved at a brisk trot as he led them along a seemingly random path through the surrounding buildings and streets.  But it soon became apparent that they weren’t being pursued -- a fact which didn’t entirely surprise Dumas.  It seemed pretty clear that the two men were involved in something criminal, and people like that rarely shared their problems with the local law enforcement.  In all probability, the man whose phone they’d stolen would try to forget the whole thing, hiding it from both his associates and the police.<br/><br/>Slowing his pace, Dumas glanced at White. “Thanks for your help back there.  I suppose you’d like some sort of explanation?”