<div class="floatleft">(http://www.inyourbones.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/David400-228x350.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Ryan 'Private' Murray (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12379624#msg12379624)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>Louisiana / August 1st, 2017 / 10:00 AM<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Vivienne Rayne Beaux<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Shooting more than the Breeze (Warning: Graphic Violence)<br/><hr/><br/>He couldn't understand. He wasn't the ugliest man in the world, if far from anything super-model worthy, but he did have a rather... dangerous look about him. Some women liked that, some men too, but liking something and wanting it to know where you lived or where you worked were two different things entirely. Stereotypes were there for a reason, and he had been exposed to them for too long to feel offended or even annoyed by them. It was a part of life over what he did, and he loved his way of life. It just meant having to take the good with the bad was all, and he had been doing that for a long time.<br/><br/>That said, her quick checkout of him did not go unnoticed. He smiled and winked," I'll just call you that taxi then," He said. Knowing Vern, the man would keep a car in at least overnight, even if he was told to get it finished ASAP and with no overcharging. They needed to check it, test drive it and make sure it would be getting her more than just a couple miles before breaking down again. If he let it out before it was good and fixed, she could come back and demand that he do it all anyways, and free of charge no less.<br/><br/>He realized that he had said none of these things aloud as he was turning to go into the old man's office. He paused and turned back to her again," I mean, even if he puts it on his priority list, he'll want to keep it overnight if only to make sure that it won't break down after another couple miles and..."<br/><br/>And that sentence was going to have to wait until later, as four armed men stormed the lot, bristling with guns, sunglasses and cheap suits. Two of them had pistols and the other two had a pair of MP-7s. And they seemed pretty focused on him as they came in closer and pretty much stopped, giving him a wide circle as they closed in, shouting at him to put his hands above his head and that he was under arrest. He raised his hands, quickly surrendering. They still didn't come close. They seemed as surprised at him giving up so quickly as he was at them arresting him.<br/><br/>"Look guys, I give up," They must have been really peeved about that whole WitPro thing to track him all the shitfucking way to Louisiana," Shouldn't you guys get the civilians clear of the area before pulling out the cuffs?" And by civilians, he meant Vivienne, whom he pointed out with his hands still raised.<br/><br/>"Mr. Ryan Murray and Miss Vivienne Beaux, you are both under arrest," Robert Davis responded curtly," Now get on your knees."<br/><br/>Her? Her too? She was under arrest? What was she under arrest for? "Her?" He pointed at her again, and then turned to look at her," You? You're a criminal? Why do they wanna slap metal on your wrist?"<br/><br/>"Get on your knees!" Martinez joined in, taking a step forward, adjusting his sub machine gun," Get on your knees, now!"<br/><br/>"Calm down, alright? We've already surrendered," Ryan said, the picture of calm under duress.<br/><br/>"You boys got a warrant to be here?" Came the leathery old voice of Vern, coming out from behind one of his cars, toting an old Winchester Double Barreled Shotgun and pointing it at the agents," You boys could be shot for the unlawful invasion of my property, you hear?" Ol' Vern was a great fan of the Second Amendment.<br/><br/>Two of the Agents, Young and Cameron Davis turned and trained their weapons on Vern," Sir, put the weapon down. Put the weapon down now."<br/><br/>"You ain't got no right to be here, you get the hell of my property until you got a warrant to be here!"<br/><br/>"Sir, put the weapon do..."<br/><br/>"Get the hell out of my garage!"<br/><br/>"Put the weapon down now!"<br/><br/>Young was a veteran with such standoffs, but Cameron wasn't. He had just graduated college and had never shot a man. Never so much as fired his weapon outside of the firing range, and apparently, according to Robert, that made him less of an agent in the eyes of his fellow agents. He needed to pop his cherry, so to speak, when it came to firing his weapon, and under all of the pressure, all he could hear was Robert's voice, telling him that he would never rise above a lowly, underpaid field agent until the higher ups noticed him.<br/><br/>And he barely even noticed that his gun had gone off until he felt the Glock kick back against his hand.<br/><br/>The confusion was instantaneous as it was brutal. The shot was well placed, hitting old Vern right in center mass, right over the heart. But the old man's finger had been in the trigger too, and with a jerk that came from being shot in the chest, he let loose his load too, two rounds of buckshot, 18 pellets overall, headed into the mess of agents, Ryan and Viv. A good portion of the pellets was soaked up by Cameron, who dropped silently to the ground, dropping his gun and clutching the multiple holes that were spouting blood from his neck. Young took a couple to her shoulder, spinning her around as the two other agents, distracted by the first shot, took a few to their shoulders and arms while the rest sailed harmlessly past Ryan and Vivienne. Didn't matter much to Ryan, as he had already tackled Vivienne to the ground, feeling the comforting cramp that came just before one of his rushes of power and pushing her well inside the office and behind the thick concrete that was supposed to insulate the inside of the air conditioned room. He heard the spatter of automatic fire sending bullets into the concrete he he rolled off of Vivienne.<br/><br/>"Fucking... FBI," He growled. Although, the FBI really liked to show off their badges and their vests and the like. These guys had done no such thing. Were they FBI at all?<br/><br/>No matter. He pulled the his own Glock from inside his coat and peeked out the door, aiming and taking a pair of shots to the agent closest to the door, which was Martinez. They weren't good shots, one sailing a bit high but the second hammered right in center mass. The man doubled over, but he jogged over to cover, indicating that he was wearing some sort of body armor.<br/><br/>"Are you okay?" He turned to Vivienne, checking her quickly for wounds. She would have no reason to be wearing any kind of body armor, right?