Unloading a Chamber or Two Before a Job (Altamira)

[Zorolo]

It had been a very long day of work, and Monroe finally had made enough damn money to feed himself for a few weeks. Like it wasn't bad enough he hadn't eaten in three days, and he had taken quite a few bumps and bruises because of that bastard bounty he had dragged in kicking and screaming, he had gotten crap from the other hunters about being a small time hunter. Dammit, he'd prove that bastards wrong yet. He was great, he just didn't have any real foes to go after.

Vossler sat in the bar, getting a quick drink before he was going to head out. He had some trigger practice to do before he went back to looking for that big bounty that'd make him a legend. As Monroe sat silently in the bar, downing the pint of beer he had, his eyes caught sight of a man with a veil over his mouth heading towards the door. That guy... Vossler had seen him before, and the modern fencer knew it. But where had the former assassin seen this guy?

Slowly, it clicked in the dark clad man's head who this guy was. A bounty, and a relatively large one was walking out of the bar. This guy had some stranger powers, and was probably a government experiment that was running amuck now that he was free. According to reports, this guy had the power to rust anything his hands touched. It'd been the undoing of many swordsmen and warriors. Even So, Vossler knew that this guy was probably a weakling.

The modern fencer let out a soft sigh and picked up his sheathed sword which rested on the table and placed it in his belt. The enhanced human cracked his knuckles and neck before he began trailing this guy. Monroe would wait to find out where this guy was going before he engaged him. That was the fun of the hunt, wasn't it? If the hunter didn't stalk the prey, what good was the kill?

The town streets and buildings faded from view as the mercenary followed closely behind this fugitive that seemed to walk without a care in the world. Then again, in this place, fugitives seemed to be many and close together. Something about this whole town that Vossler had entered was simply wrong, and he couldn't explain what it was. Even so, Monroe wouldn't fight the powers that be, and resigned himself to follow this guy. Once that was done, Vossler would head back to the bar and get another drink to help himself relax.

Suddenly, the man entered a building, and Vossler looked upon the sign. A shooting range. What a brass, uncouth bastard this guy was. Was he going to try to stop bullets now with his rusting hands? Even if he was, he'd get a forty-five caliber APP bullet right between the eyes, just to shut him up. Bounties were all the same, loudmouthed and uncouth beasts, and what was wrong with killing... oh... just about anyone that stood in your way?

Vossler followed the man in, examining the door handled, that had been rusted to the point of becoming simply dust. Scary as that was, Monroe disregarded it for now. Monroe grabbed a box of bullet and loaded his gun with normal bullets for now. Quickly, the former assassin fired three shots in succession. Three out of three hit their mark. One in the middle of the head, and one in each shoulder. Okay, he needed some more target practice, but at least his aim was a little better.

Monroe continued to fire and reload his gun as he watched the man. This guy would make his move soon, and when he did... what the hell?!

Suddenly, the door swung open and someone rushed in. Monroe kept a close eye out, unloading his gun of inferior bullets and loading six of his specials and then holstering the gun. What was it now? Monroe rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to act to whatever was about to happen.

[Altamira]

Tracey de Carlo wasn't the best shot in town, but the police badge pinned to her hat made the hands of the men in the room tense quicker on their handgrips then any decorated shooter's presence could. She entered slowly and confidently, swinging back the door of the shooting gallery open as wide as its hinges would allow, and then stood for a moment outlined by the desert sun in a theatrical pose, both hands at her hips with one firmly grasping the pistol in her holster. Some of the eyes in the room rose to meet her, and others just remained fixed on their targets.

For those not watching, she decided to make her next series of actions even more demanding of attention.

The inspector strode in, nodding a greeting to the manager of the place as if she were a regular, even though it was only her second time practicing there. Good-humoredly, the man returned the greeting in kind and assigned her a spot at the targets. Tracey fumbled through the boxes of bullets at the counter, muttering a few things about each variety so low that any of her false statements couldn't be heard clearly enough to be pointed out. She loaded her white pistol then carefully, telling the closest shooter the tale of when she shot down some fool who had tried to get away from her on a hang-glider. The bullet had actually missed her target, the glider, and embedded itself in the criminal's arm--but Tracey never elaborated on that part of the story. The gist was just that she was countless meters away and had brought him to justice; case closed.

As the girl wrapped up her spiel, she noticed an austere-looking man with keen green eyes staring at her. His gaze quickly drifted away back to the targets ahead once he realized that he had been spotted, a light flush of color coming to his cheeks.

Intrigued, Tracey resumed her target-practice with her attention divided, as was a talent of hers; she appeared to be focusing on her shooting, but each time the man's gun went off and he naturally looked forward to gauge his success, she'd glance over to make her own observations. Judging from his complexion, she could easily tell that he was not from Rubato or any of the surrounding countries, but his build and skill with a firearm suggested that he may still be of the criminal kind. Such an interesting and sharp-minded looking man--what a shame if he has turned his energies to such activities. He'd be a difficult criminal to contend with.

[Zorolo]

Strange woman, kinda cute though, Monroe thought silently as he emptied his revolver of cartridges again and loaded some more of the crappy bullets he had been given to practice with into his gun. The girl next to him had been boasting of her shooting skill quite a bit, but the former assassin could tell she was lying... or if not lying, half truthing it.

How, you might ask yourself? Elementary my dear Watson: The woman's heart sped up ever so slightly as she elaborated on what happened. It was obvious from her tone, her entrance and her actions she was a cop, which weren't Monroe's favorite people in the world, but hell, she was a cute cop, so that gave her points back. Come to think of it, the bounty hunter had lost sense of what he was doing when she had entered. Something, however, reminded him.

The feeling of hands touching Monroe shot through his body as long, thin fingers grasped his biceps. Monroe could feel his arms rusting over ever so slightly. The bastard had snuck up on the dark haired man and was now trying to rust him over. Dumb bastard. That'd have easily stopped a normal human, but Monroe was damn different from a normal human.

In an almost instinctual reaction, the former assassin grabbed the man by the head and spun quickly, throwing him over his shoulder. The bounty hit a nearby table hard and was easily knocked up, but luckily not killed, by the force. The modern fencer rubbed the back of his head with a slightly nervous look. Well, luckily that guy hadn't died. That would have been bad.

The bounty hunter lifted the bounty over his shoulder and looked at the female cop and at the others in the shooting alley. "Miss, if you were here for this guy, I'm taking in his bounty. It's my duty as a bounty hunter... and this guy is my food for the next... several days actually. If you want, you can come with me to claim his bounty and I'll say you knocked him out," Monroe offered with a sly smile crossing his face. He was planning something, but that was his business. If she wanted to know, she'd have to agree, or fight him.

[Altamira]

Tracey glanced sharply from where the wanted man had struck the table and back again to the bounty hunter that now held him--she had nearly written him up a citation for disturbing the peace when the fight broke out, but it had ended so quickly, and with so little damage to public property that it hardly seemed worth it. The detective had never been a fan of the dull, routine side of police work anyhow; speeding tickets, smalltime theft, and riots weren't her cup of tea, as they'd say in Rochester. Bounty hunters weren't generally seen as friends of the law, but this one piqued her interest and appeared to have nabbed a true criminal--so she'd let things slide for now.

"I'll...come, but I won't take any credit for your work, since the police have yet to target him," she said, flashing the man a smile. "Claiming to have played a part in this scumbag's capture isn't worth the effort."

The man smiled back, and she began to follow him as he headed outside.

As soon as they stepped out the door, however, she piped up again: "Do you trust a cop enough to take them to wherever you bounty hunters claim your payment? You all are viewed as vigilantes, after all, so how do you know I wouldn't just arrest the whole lot of you?"

This was all said with such a playful light in the girl's eye and an impish grin on her face that any caution it might have aroused was instantly forgotten the moment the man looked back at her.

[Zorolo]

"You can come with me wherever you want, so long as you don't disturb anyone. Unlike me, the rest of the hunters are big fans of cops. Think you're a bunch of ignorant baboons, or that you're corrupt politicians tools. I'm different, but that isn't always a good thing." Monroe recalled the fact he was still a virtual laughing stock among most of the other bounty hunters, since he brought in "small fries" and used unorthodox methods.

For the most part, bounty hunters were supposed to fight as little as they could head to head. That wasn't really the enhanced human's style though. He preferred a good, head on fight over tricking an idiot into a trap. Anyway, the dark clad man had bigger dreams then these people could imagine. His goal was to defeat the Fencer of Tasogare, and make a real name for himself. If Vossler could do that, he'd prove himself worthy as both a bounty hunter and a warrior. Now the only question was where to find that guy.

"Anyway, a vigilante isn't quite a correct word. The best word you could use for my line of work would be an assassin... I guess. Even though we don't normally kill our prey, all the skills we implement... for the most part, which means everyone but me, are those of assassins. They say assassins will never have a place in the world aside from being an assassin. Quite a sad life, huh?" he asked her and went silent as he continued to walking. He dreaded the fact he was spilling his heart onto this poor girl he barely knew, but he figured what the heck.

The good part of town past by the two until they wound up in a rather dark and dismal area. The modern fencer made sure to knock the annoying bounty out every time he woke up, and it never got harder then that. After all, this guy wasn't worth much to begin with. Finally, the dark clothed man stood in front of a tavern looking building and stepped back. "Stay close to me. If they know you're a cop, I'll have some real problems, not that it matters."

With a swift and fierce kick, the door flew open and clacked against the wall the door was attached to as Monroe walked in. The dark man's presence alone was enough to drive the weaker bounty hunters into the corners of the bar, but those who knew him or thought they could fight with him at odds kept their positions. After all, why did they need to be afraid of a guy that brought in small fries?

The modern fencer walked up to a table in the bar and tossed the bounty on it. A man with white hair smiled and slid a bunch of bills towards the dark haired man. The enhanced human counted the money to make sure it was all there. "Good doing business with you," Vossler said as he turned from the bookie. "Let's get a drink," he directed his comment towards Tracey. Hopefully she was still next to him.

[Altamira]

No matter where one was, it was never wise for a cop to enter a bar sporting their badge.

But in Rubato, it was nearly suicide.

Tracey was most certainly not by Monroe's side by the time he had received his payment; oh no, the sleuth hadn't even gone five paces down the short flight of stairs leading from the door before she was stopped, shoved, and spat on by a gang of unsavory barflies toting big guns and flexing sweaty muscles. The girl was resilient, they could give her that--she quickly regained her composure after the affront, and stared them down with dignity, hand ready on her pistol, but one skinny cop against six brutes was a mismatch whether one had pride or not.

The group had kicked the detective to the ground and were about to rummage through her cloak pockets before Monroe turned from his business and caught sight of the deplorable scene. One of the men swallowed hard--knowing exactly what would follow after seeing the glare in the bounty hunter's sharp eyes.

[Zorolo]

"And what, exactly, do you idiots think you're up to?" the bounty hunter asked nonchalantly as he walked over to the six, his dark eyes glaring almost directly into their souls.

"Hey, outta towner, this little ***** is a cop! They knows better then to come in here."

"One, I oughta slap the hell out of you just for using lousy grammar and swearing in front of a woman, but what is worse it that you attacked my guest. You're going to pay for this," the dark clad man remarked as the largest man stood up to meet him in combat.

"If she's your guest, then that makes you a pig to!" the large man said as he swung his massive fist down towards the former assassin. However, the massive fist didn't find its mark. Instead, it found something much, much worse. The smaller foe had stopped the man's giant fist with a single finger.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't listening," Vossler replied with a quick jerk as he swung the giant man like a mace over his shoulder and through a nearby table. The giant coughed up blood as his body hit the ground, his eyes white. Luckily, this one was only knocked out. "Hope you learned your lesson about fighting with a woman," Monroe said as he quickly placed his hand on his gun and readied to pull it. "So, what say you back off?" the enhanced human asked as he turned his head slightly.

The other five men all gulped hard and took a step back, terror running wild in their eyes. Quickly, they all scattered in different directions, trying their hardest to avoid Monroe. The modern fencer scoffed at his feeble foes and spit on the ground, moving towards the young cop. "And you! I told you to stay near me so we could avoid trouble, not start it. Anyway, I have my money, so we can get going. Here, let me help you up," he told her, not so much mad as annoyed as he offered his hand. This woman had a lot to learn about the real world.

[Altamira]

Tracey took the proffered hand without a word; her eyes were still fixed on the man lying limp and bleeding where Monroe had thrown him through the table. Despite his slender appearance, this bounty hunter had managed to look tough before--and now, after that display, her assessment of his power was changed yet again. She could tell he was strong in the shooting gallery, but she had never imagined he would be this strong. He was proving to be an even more interesting character by the second, constantly changing her perceptions and impressions.

Seeing the way he so easily disposed of the bar thugs brought to mind the stories of Rubato's tougher, more famous criminals; humans that the regular police forces had no chance in defeating. With someone like him on the side of the law, maybe we would have some hope...

The idea brought a sunny smile to Tracey's face. "Thank you," she finally said, referring to what he had so selflessly done for her moments ago, "you're a real knight in shining armor."

Monroe smiled back, and the girl felt some color return to her cheeks.

I feel silly for thinking this--really, we just met--but...I honestly felt like I could depend on him back there. Something about him made me expect that he would come and help me like he did.

A beep from a radio at her hip brought Tracey back to the present; she glanced down, and recognized the message as being from the Rancha Rosa police frequency.

"Ah, excuse me, but I've got to take this," the detective said, turning her back to the bounty hunter and walking off a few paces to listen to the message. Her eyes widened as the words buzzed in the speaker, and a gleam flashed for a moment in their bright green depths. When she came back to Monroe, her expression was one of a girl lost in thought.

"There's been some trouble at the federal prison--and they need a detective's services to unravel the problem. Would you, ah...would you...come along?"

[Zorolo]

Monroe looked up at the ceiling and scratched his chin with one finger, blushing slightly. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that question, since the girl seemed to be lost in dream world. Well, whatever was going on, Monroe could tell it probably wasn't for the best, but still, something about this woman made him want to say yes very badly. Ah hell, why the hell not. Prison inmates were weak anyway.

After thinking for a little while, the dark clad man finally decided on his course of action. He'd go with Tracey, mop things up at the prison, ask for some kind of monetary compensation from the government, and hopeful prove himself to be more of "Knight in Shining Armor" to the detective. To the modern fencer, this whole situation didn't seem too bad at all. Everything seemed to be neatly put together, actually.

Although Vossler gave the impression that he was hard in thought, he had already, long since, made up his mind on his next course of action. "Let's get out of this bar before we talk, okay?" he asked the young woman. She nodded and the two exited the bar and started walking through the streets.

Monroe waited for her to say something about helping them, but after a few seconds, he couldn't help but admit to her that he wanted to help her. "I'll help you. I'm sure that if I'm around, you don't need to worry," the enhanced human stated with a smile as he continued walking next to the inquisitive girl.

[Altamira]

Tracey returned the smile and pulled back out her radio, dialing the federal prison's frequency. She had to admit to herself that hearing Monroe would come along made her happy--but she couldn't let that distract from business. Especially not when it was on a federal level. Police duty above all else...right?

The speaker buzzed to life, followed by a bored, almost metallic voice that intoned, "Isla do Noir Federal Prison police frequency. State your business."

"Officer RRA-195-760, Inspector Tracey de Carlo reporting for duty on the prison case. Assigned by Captain Marcio Buffón. Requesting air lift to island from Agra, Western District."

A minute of silence followed the deluge of information, which Tracey explained with a mouthed, "Processing," to the bounty hunter beside her as she tapped an impatient foot. Finally, a beep resounded and the cold, lethargic voice returned.

"Request approved. Helicopter to pick up at dead end off Santa Luisa Avenue in approximately five minutes. Confirm ability to meet."

"Yes, I can be there in...ah, I mean--confirmed. Thank you."

"Transmission over."

Tracey flicked the radio off and glanced back up at Monroe, a tinge of color upon her freckled cheeks. "Sometimes I forget that I'm not really talking to a person on the other end. Automated systems are strange.

"But anyhow...we're about to ride over to this high, rocky island that rises out of the ocean a few miles from here, where the prison is located. Have you...ever ridden in a helicopter? If you forget where we're headed, then it's almost...well...let's just say it should be an exciting experience if you haven't."

OoC: Sorry for the blahness and shortness. I just wanted to post something in this so you didn't have to wait any longer. <___<

[Zorolo]

OoC: It's okay, my last bunch of posts have been very Bleh, myself. So it's all good. ^_^

BiC: Monroe shifted slightly, his jacket fluttering to the side as he moved and began walking a bit as she asked her question. "Sounds fine to me. I've never been one for flying though, but the sooner they get here, the better. I feel the need to do something," stated the bounty hunter as he rested his hand on his photon sword. The dark clad man didn't feel the need to tell the police officer that what he really wanted was a fight, even though he enjoyed being around her.

The clash between the modern fencer's desire to stand with Tracey and his desire to fight disrupted his mindset. The normal method of killing others and causing destruction felt like the way to go, but at the same time, the enhanced human wanted to keep Tracey safe. It was an odd conflict, since desire should never get in the middle of someone who's hunting for the pain of others. After all, because Monroe had never known he had emotions like desire or love, he had never felt the need to use them.

After all, Monroe's life had never been one of happiness and joy. He'd only ever been trained to fight, to kill, and to destroy. Hadn't that been why he had hunted down Mark to have the scientist construct the special weapons the dark clad man now had? Without combat, what would Vossler have left but an emptiness? He filled his own sorrow and depression by training and fighting, not by being around people.

The sound of the chopper blades nearing entered into the enhanced ears of the dark clad man and he turned his head upwards, trying to locate what exactly how far away the chopper was. "A few seconds," he muttered to himself as he turned towards Tracey. "I'm ready to go, how about you?" he asked her, sliding the hilt of his photon sword out of his pocket and spinning the hilt around so that where the blade would come out pointed behind him. Monroe didn't exactly trust whoever was bringing this chopper, and it was better to be safe then sorry, right?

OoC: Oh, just so you know, Alti, I've upgraded Monroe, so go take a look. ^_^

[Altamira]

"Yeah, I'm ready," Tracey said emptily. Her green eyes had focused on Monroe's hilt until it came to a rest in his practiced hands. He seemed to be expecting a fight.

"I...believe the situation's more or less under control now at the prison, so there's no need to be so tense. The officers there can take care of things if any force is needed. We just need to figure out what happened."

She shot the fencer a placating smile, and grabbed onto her hat, hearing the chopper now hovering above them. There wasn't quite enough empty space for the craft to touch down in the street, so a rope-ladder was tossed down from a height some several meters in the air.

"Here we go," Tracey said, smiling again, and then she climbed on up.

------------------------------------------------------------------

After an exhilarating ride over cities and desert, a tall island amid churning teal waves appeared through the strata of clouds below the chopper.

"There's the prison," the pilot said. Then the craft began its descent.

OoC: This post is really blah and short, but it moves things along. <___< I couldn't make you wait any more.

[Zorolo]

Monroe, rather nonchalantly, actually, jumped down from the helicopter and landed on his feet, the land beneath his pluming into a slight dust cloud. "Waste of time climbing down," the dark clad man whispered as the detective climbed down the rope ladder, jumping off the last link and walking towards Monroe. Vossler rested his hand on his photon sword and started walking towards the prison, the detective following not too far behind.

Gunfire echoed out of the prison walls, indicating some kind of a fight. "They can handle it, sure," Monroe joked as he cast a slight smile at Tracey. "Guess they do need help," the dark clad man stated as he spun the hilt of his photon sword out from his jacket and pointed the device in front of himself. Detective de Carlo eyed the item suspiciously, obviously never having seen something like this.

"It's called a photon sword," the bounty hunter stated as he flicked the switch and turned the blade of the weapon on. A glowing, green energy blade formed to a very sharp tip at the end. "It's strong enough to cut through any substance less dense then Titanium like butter, and leaves scorch marks because of just how the blade works. It burns whatever it cuts, which is handy, I suppose. Haven't really gotten a chance to use it," the mercenary stated as he started walking, turning his sword off.

Suddenly, a guard erupted from the door the bounty hunter and the detective were nearing and stood back. The man pointed his gun at the door. "You're the detectives?" the man asked in total terror. "He struck before we knew what was going on. He... He..." the soldier said as a sudden dagger ripped into his chest, and two prisoners walked out. One strapped with countless knives, and one with an ax in his hand.

"Don't know who this he is, but I know it ain't these guys," Monroe stated as he drew his gun and took aim. "Let's dance. Tracey, stand back, or, if you want, you can help. Either way, its an honor to fight on the side of such a lovely lady," Vossler said sincerely as he used the sight to aim. Now then, that just left who got shot first.

[Altamira]

"I...I..."

Pride argued with her for a while, but Tracey eventually decided it was best to leave before there were two police officers lying prostrate on the ground. If she wasn't shot or stabbed first, she knew she would probably faint at some point here--and being sprawled out on the ground, unconscious in the middle of a gunfight was not somewhere she particularly wanted to be.

She shook her head as Monroe turned to face the two convicts, and when she saw an opening, she stole towards the fallen guard's body, checking his wounds. Obviously fatal, that she already could tell when he was first attacked. Being stabbed through the heart didn't leave one in a debatable condition. But could he be moved without too much damage to the body? It seemed that, aside from the stab wound, the rest of him was all in one piece. He could be hauled to someone who would see to his proper burial.

The detective mouthed, "I'm going inside," and pointed for emphasis when Monroe's eyes caught hers. He was already embroiled in a fight with the axman; Tracey found herself wondering where the heathen was from. And, more importantly, where in blazes had he gotten the ax?

She dragged the guard like a tugboat pulling an ocean liner until they came to a rest outside of one of the surveillance rooms. The locks here had been picked, and judging from the bootprints, the door had been kicked open. Two more dead guards lay in limp, ghastly positions on chairs, their necks and limbs bent in unnatural ways. Tracey gave a small gasp at the sight of them, dropping her load as she strode up to one and checked for wounds.

More gunshots and stab wounds, she noted, shuddering at the feel of the cold, dead skin. This is troubling...

[Zorolo]

The dagger spun quickly towards Monroe's body, but he narrowly moved his head, evading the weapon by an inch. The man holding the ax moved forwards, swinging his blade down towards the dark clad man, who easily evaded the weapon and thrust his palm into the man's nose, shattering the bone and thrusting the broken bone into the man's brain, killing him. "Too easy," the dark clad man muttered as he spun around and kicked the knife wielder in the back of the head, disconnecting the brain stem from the spine, killing the other man effortlessly. "Have to remember, I'm way stronger then a normal person."

Monroe stuck his hands into the pockets of his jacket, walking off with a slight look of boredom. "The hell did Tracey get to?" the dark clad man muttered as the modern fencer looked about at the fallen humans. "These dumbass soldiers couldn't even defend themselves from those useless convicts. How did those jackasses even get their weapons back?!" the former assassin asked as he began to look around. Whatever in the world was going on, the green eyed man looked up, catching a slight sight of green hair, as it seemed.

"Found ya!" Vossler yelled as he ran through the door that entered into the building and looking around. It was a rather small room that Monroe had walked into, and the man he had just seen looked like a greatly desired catch. Zorlo, the legendary bounty. Hell, even a look alike would fetch half of the bounty, and dead, it would be worth a quarter. Still, that was a good deal of money. The dark clad man scanned the room, searching for the man he had just seen. Where the hell was he?

The green hair, darker then Zorlo's, Monroe noted now, stood silently. A rapier with a grayish hand guard and a black sheath. Definitely not Zorlo, but given the rapier, it was a look alike. Good way to make money, definitely. "Hello, Monroe," spoke a slightly robotic voice as others began to emerge from behind barrels, wooden crates and the other things in the storage shack. Each of the men were armed with makeshift weapons gathered from this storage depot.

"Well now, what are you?" asked Vossler as a man with a scientist jacket emerged. The blonde haired man smiled at the dark clad warrior, smiling at him.

"'Ello, Monroe. It's been a while. I have not seen you for a long while. It's good to know you're alive."

"Dr. Bochnik. The hell are you doing here? And who the hell is the guy with green hair?"

"Oh, 'e's simply a clone of a legendary warrior. We've laid claim to a piece of his DNA. A strand of hair, actually. He's not near as strong as the original, so the stories said, but still, he'll be more then enough to kill you!" the man said with a tick, annoying, German accent.

"Not just him, but these ****s. A bunch of convicts being used to lure me here. I'm gonna ring your neck, you bastard. I'll kill these four, then Mr. Green Hair, over there, and then you, ya piece of ****."

"Oh really? And what makes you think that?" the man asked.

The modern fencer drew his knife and smiled. A second passed, and suddenly, the four other men all fell, two with slit throats, one with a stab through his heart, and the last with a knife wedged in his forehead. Monroe removed his photon sword from his belt and smiled at the two, spinning quickly to kick the door off of its hinges. "Tracey! If you can hear me, if a weasely old man with blonde hair runs out. Shoot him on sight. Got me?" the enhanced human asked as he kept his eye on the clone, which drew its sword. this would be fun.