<div class="floatleft">(http://img818.imageshack.us/img818/2395/samatclashofthetitanslo.jpg)</div><br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Sam Washington<br/><strong>Age:</strong>28<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>Beat his senior officer to death with a heavy duty stapler from the L.A.P.D.'s copy room while singing the national anthem.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Library, outside - Disoriented and confused<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Natalie Brewster and any other members of team 1<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>It was unexpected sight for even a former cop such as Sam to see so many patrol vehicles pull up onto the parking lot with smoking tires and blaring sirens, the white and blue lights atop the cars illuminating the darkened surroundings almost more than the raging fire inside the library. He had not thought his guards would have called down half the New York police department, but in hindsight it would have been obvious, given present company which had jumped out of the building's window. There was at least one other orange jumpsuit wearer such as himself among them. Two convicted killers... Yeah, you<em>would</em>want back-up for that.<br/><br/><strong>"Freeze! Don't move. This is the NYPD and we are armed. We will shoot if necessary. Line up with your hands behind your head,"</strong>a voice among the blue uniforms demanded, his volume dialed up many times through a megaphone, immediately silencing any other person by way of verbal intimidation. There was no way out, even if Sam<em>wanted</em>to flee. The New York police officers had them surrounded on all sides. Slowly raising his strong arms, he placed his hands behind his head in orderly fashion, knowing the drill almost by instinct<del>   </del>though the glove was on the other hand now.<br/><br/>As he began to lower himself unto his knees, it happened. It came out of nowhere, taking Sam by surprise and thoroughly rattling his nerves and senses. A large explosion occurred, knocking him onto his side as bits and peaces of debris flew by, some of which wounded him with small cuts and bruises. His eyes watered as he closed his eyelids shut, attempting to shield his only source of sight from the heatwaves which washed over his body in the wake of the explosion as his ears, despite the loud ringing it now heard, picked up the sound of a painful, metallic wail, followed by a short tremble of the concrete beneath his body. It took him more a long while to get back onto his feet, his vision still blurry as the world was still spinning lightly, causing Sam to stumble against something. Crying out in pain, he jumped away from the burning car. Pain seared through his hands, the palm of either having received some damage from short contact with the heated metal.<br/><br/>Wiping dirt from his eyes with the sleeve of his jumpsuit, the twenty-eight year old man tried to orientate himself. Many others were in a similar state of confusion and disorientation. He had lost sight of Natalie and there were strange voices speaking inside his mind, distracting him by haressing him with reasons why he should or should not flee. As he turned to look for the young woman he'd come to concider as one he needed to protect, a cop, bleeding heavily from his forehead, shouted and pointed in their direction. What was left of the group of New York police officers began to charge, lifting their weapons while barking orders to get down on the ground.<br/><br/>Stumbling into a patch of black snow next to the parking lot, Sam's body acted on its own, moving on instinct rather than mind. There was no choice now. He couldn't risk having this pinned on him. Having attempted to "flee" from the two guards who had brought him here, Sam was in a seriously bad position. While unconstitutional, the state of New York still very much enforced the death penalty. Sam doubted he'd be able to dodge the bullet a second time, so the only way to go from here was to run as fast and far as his white sneaker covered feet could carry him. He ran across a deserted street, making small zig zag motions in an attempt to avoid any gunshots aimed his way. The orange jumpsuit made him a big, easy to spot target for sure.<br/><br/>It was surely the longest four lane street he'd ever crossed. His heart raced wildly as his breath formed small white clouds in the night sky. The seconds it took to reach the end were slow and agonizing. Sam needed find cover and fast. Dashing into a narrow alleyway between buildings, he took the nearest turn he could find, breaking line of sight with any potential armed persuers for a moment. He didn't stop though, even as his lungs began to burn and the adrenaline pumping through his veins began to fade. His focus lay with but a single objective; escape.