He hated runners.
Was it really that difficult to understand the concept of "Stop"? Or "Freeze"? Why was it that even people who were innocent bolted as soon as he identified himself?
Right now, he was getting tired. The suspect was a fucking rabbit, jumping and running and skipping and moving non stop and Flack wasn't that much into the whole martial arts moves to disconcert the enemy. What had happened with good ole running in a straight line? Why, in the name of God, did he have to be jumping on top of crates and from one rooftop to another to a fire stair…?
The sound of his footsteps, steady, pounding the pavement was like music to him, with a rhythm of its own that he found enticing and soothing and the most tangible evidence that justice was being served, somehow. And it didn't involve any of that move and jump new folks seemed to enjoy so much.
