A/N: While I was writing this chapter, something hit me. Part of the reason the original draft was so confusing was because it seemed to jump around so much and you really didn't know what the main conflict was. I've realized that, and so I've made a conscious decision. Instead of this being one story, I am turning this into a trilogy. This new format will help me out greatly, and it will make the story a lot clearer. Now, what does this mean to you, the reader? Well, if you're a new reader, then you can completely disregard what I'm about to say and enjoy the story. However, if you have readthe original version, this will be a give and take situation. Because of this new trilogy format, I will be able to flesh out the characters a lot more,and I will also be able to add sideplots and such that I had planned originally, but had to cut in the first draft. So you will be seeing a lot more new things in this story that I had barely touched upon or hadn't even mentioned in the original. However, this also means it will take a considerable amount of time to catch up to where we all left off last time. But I hope you enjoy the rewrite, cause in my opinion, it's already turning out better than what I had at first. Enjoy the story!

Blade of Destiny

Chapter 2: The Shootout

"Have the authorities been alerted yet?" The voice cut the empty night air like a knife. The young woman shifted uncomfortably in her car seat and fidgeted around with the laptop that sat in between her legs.

"Yes, I've alerted the Pewter PD of his presence. Surprisingly, they've sent a Special Forces attack squad to intercept him. He should be either captured or killed within the hour, and the sword will be confiscated. Everything is going just as we planned." The shadowy figure shook its head and chuckled quietly.

"Good. How are we going to retrieve the weapon from the authorities?" She flicked a stray hair behind her head and stared into the screen.

"We have an insider, sir. As soon as the authorities confiscate it, it should be sent directly to the Special Forces for 'protection'. It's simply a matter of him waltzing into the vault and bringing it to us." The figure in the screen looked at her with a look of surprise.

"The insider has that much security clearance?" She nodded and smiled lightly.

"Yes, sir. I made sure that we wouldn't have a mishap as we did with the shield. There is nothing to worry about. There is a team out now, pooling all of its efforts into recovering the shield as we speak." The figure nodded.

"Good work, Agent Summers. I want you to go to the Goldenrod outpost and await further instructions there. The Board has...pressing matters that we would like you to keep an eye on."

"A possible uprising?" The figure on the screen shook its head.

"We've received word that the outpost is working on a new type of genetic research. We don't know if they mean to use this for the good of the organization, or for their own petty advances. If they try to use this information in the outside world, our cover will be blown. We can not afford to reveal ourselves before we have attained full strength."

She cocked an eyebrow and looked at the screen suspiciously. "I thought we would be able to hold our own even against a Special Forces assault?"

"That is true, Agent Summers. However, we are still vulnerable; and you should never underestimate the strength of the element of surprise. Go to the Goldenrod outpost and await further instructions. You have your assignment."

She nodded. "Understood. Summers out." The screen blinked out and shut down, leaving her in the darkness of night. With a sigh, she turned the ignition, bringing her car to life with a roar. "They always give me the boring jobs..." she lamented as the vehicle backed up and sped out of the empty parking lot.

"Put the weapon down and place your hands over your head!" a voice shouted from the small squad of heavily armed men. Ash chuckled nervously.

"Come on guys, this isn't even mine. Can't we just talk this out? I'm sure this is just a huge misunderstanding." He was answered with the numerous clicking of safeties and the sounds of bullets being loaded into the chambers. There would be no screwing around here. These guys were dead serious.

"Put the weapon down and place your hands over your head, NOW!" the same voice cried again, heavily emphasizing the end of his statement. Ash sighed and raised his hands in the air, the shotgun still resting in his right palm.

"Fine, fine. You win." Quickly, he glanced above him at the large glass ceiling above the building. The pattering of the rain rung loudly throughout the empty building as Ash smirked slyly. "I hope you guys don't mind a little rain." With a smile, he pulled the trigger on the shotgun.

The buckshot zipped through the air and struck the fragile glass above them. Instantly, the ceiling shattered with a loud and the glass poured into the building below, the fierce pounding of the rain following right behind.

Wasting no time, Ash quickly leapt to the right, barely avoiding being shredded by the hail of gunfire that soon followed. He chuckled to himself as he checked the ammunition in his weapon. Seven shells. "Dexter, give me a layout of the building and show me the nearest exit!"

The computer in his sleeve blinked on and quietly came to life. "Sir, the nearest exit would be 20 meters to your right, but-," Dexter stopped as Ash raised his hand.

"I didn't ask for your life story, Dex; I just wanted the quickest way out of here," he answered as he cocked the shotgun, He brought a hand up to wipe the water from his eyes; since the ceiling was gone, the storm outside was free to enter, and it lowered his visibility greatly. He smirked and peeked his head out from cover. If he couldn't see, then that meant that they couldn't either.

With a deep breath, Ash took off towards the exit door, hoping not to run into any of the armed men. "There he is!" a voice cried out, barely audible through the pounding rain. Almost instantly, gunfire rang out throughout the building, trailing Ash as he sprinted towards his exit.

He could hear and feel the whizzing of the bullets behind him, slicing through the glass encasements of the artifacts in the museum, and ricocheting off of the stone walls and the marble floors. A man stepped out from behind a large case in front of Ash and pointed his gun, ready to fire.

Ash gasped and slid feet first onto the marble, the water carrying him across the floor. Before the man could react, his legs were swept from under him as Ash slid underneath him and kicked his legs from under him. As the man fell with a loud cry, Ash finished the job with a swift kick to the man's sternum and shoved him away with his feet.

Ash coughed loudly; the water that had collected on the floor to ankle height had found its way into his nose and mouth, choking him. Ash couched violently again and spit on the floor before wiping the water from his eyes. Through his blurred vision, he could see the exit door; only a few feet away.

He chuckled and dashed over to the door, grabbing the handle and pushing forward. He glanced angrily at the door as he found it locked. "Son of a-," he swore as he rammed his shoulder into the steel door, trying to force it open. The door refused to move, and his only route of escape was cut off.

There was no way he's be able to make it downstairs and get through the huge double doors; they most likely had men down on the first floor also, ready to fill him with lead at a moment's notice.

He cursed loudly as a stray bullet bounced from the wall near him, forcing him to duck and hide behind a large glass case. Frantically, he switched the miniature computer on and waited impatiently for it to boot up.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the computer flashed to life. "Yes, sir? What is it?"

"Dexter, you dumb piece of junk! You led me to a locked door; there's no way out of here!" he yelled as he ducked again from another shot that shattered the glass case behind him.

He yelped and dove out from his hiding spot, firing three shells into the blurry figures that remained hidden by the rain. "Well, sir, I was trying to tell you that before you cut me off so abruptly. The entire building is locked down."

"Then hack it!" Ash yelled as he fired the last four shots from the shotgun and tossed the now-useless weapon aside.

"That's not possible, sir. The signal is so tightly encrypted that I can't hack it without ample time." Ash growled and yanked the Beretta 9mm from its holster and cocked it.

"How much time, Dexter?"

"Oh, about thirty minutes." Ash glanced at the screen, bewildered at the machine's estimation.

"Thirty minutes! I won't last thirty seconds with these guys! Patch me in to Brock!" The computer complied as Ash took off from his old hiding spot and searched for a new one. He had barely taken five steps before coming face to face with another of these heavily armed policemen.

The officer raised his assault rifle to fire, but Ash quickly grabbed the muzzle of his weapon and yanked it out of the way. He swiftly brought his knee into the man's stomach and slammed the butt of his pistol into the base of the man's skull, knocking him out instantly.

"Ash, are you all right? Answer me!" a voice cried from Ash's arm, prompting him to take cover behind a large statue and stare at his friend's face in the screen.

"Brock, I'm in need of a little help here," he said sarcastically, firing three shots blindly behind him.

"I know; I was going to see how you were doing but as soon as I opened the comlink, the police communications wire went ballistic! Ash, you need to be very careful. You're stuck in there with Special Forces agents."

Ash's eyes opened wide with disbelief and shock. "They sent the League Special Forces here to protect this sword! How hot is this merchandise anyway!" Brock shrugged.

"Max is on the net trying to dig up everything he can about the sword, and he's monitoring the police chatter. He says that as soon as you went into the building, the line started to go crazy. He thinks you've been set up." Ash swore and fired a few more shots off before being forced back into hiding by a hail of gunfire. "I'm sorry; Ash, but I can't help you out from here. There's nothing I can...shit, I'm losing the connec-," his voice was cut off abruptly before disappearing into a storm of static.

"Brock? Brock!" Ash yelled into the screen of Dexter as the computer made a quiet hum and died down. "Dexter? Dexter, reboot now!" The machine lay silent. "Damn it!" He was on his own, with no outside support, and he was pinned down by the world's most elite law enforcement unit.

He thought he recognized their tactics; they employed an old military maneuver he had learned about. One half of the unit would lay down covering fire on the enemy, while the other half would flank him and approach. He swore loudly. No wonder I've been bumping into these guys every time I try to change positions!

He glanced at the now-defunct computer on his wrist. The only thing left that would work was the grappling hook Max had just installed; it never needed to be powered by the computer. But Max said he hadn't tested the weight limit... Desperately, Ash searched for a way out of the building. Glancing up, he spotted a large chandelier hanging above a clearing in the middle of the exhibits, swaying wildly in the air from the fierce storm winds. Perfect.

Grabbing the empty shotgun that lay next to him, he patiently waited. The suppressing fire was beginning to wane; it was obvious they had lost track of his position. Now was his chance to act. Taking the shotgun, he threw the weapon with a grunt, sending it flying into the middle of the clearing. It fell with a loud clatter, capturing the attention of the officers.

"He's in the clearing!" a voice cried as more suppressive fire began to rain down on the empty clearing. A smile crept up onto Ash' face; they were buying it. It was hard to see through the pounding rain, but he could spot a group of blurry figures making their way towards his bait.

"What the hell? It's just an empty shotgun," an officer said, seemingly annoyed by their pointless trek as he lifted the weapon and tossed it away. All Ash could do was smirk as he quickly rose from his hiding spot and carefully took aim at the chain that barely held the huge chandelier in place.

The bullet pierced the chain with a loud clang and the large object quickly began to plummet onto the officers below. A loud string of curses was yelled as they all scattered like cockroaches, diving to avoid the falling chandelier.

Ash dashed towards the edge of the second floor, the only thing standing between him and the marble of the first floor was a thin glass banister. "There he is! Open fire!" an officer yelled, and almost instantly a barrage of bullets was sent his way from the officers weapons, trailing him quickly.

Ash's breath was labored as he put all of his energy into reaching the banister, desperately trying to outrun the deadly pieces of metal being fired at him from behind. A stray bullet whizzed by his ear, causing him to cry out in surprise and almost slipping in the ankle-high water.

With one more burst of energy, Ash held his hands out and leapt over the banister, plummeting down to the floor almost thirty feet below. Desperately, Ash twisted his body in mid-air and grabbed his wrist, firing the small hook from Dexter into the wall behind him. The hook shot out from the computer with a small hiss and embedded itself into the stone wall with a loud thunk.

Ash's body flailed through the air like a rag doll as the wire yanked his body backward and swung him down into another glass case on the first floor. The wire snapped and sent him tumbling across the floor, sending the sword sliding across the floor away from him.

His vision blurred even more as he desperately tried to wipe the liquid from his eyes. He swore as he desperately sloshed his hands through the water, trying to find the sword. His search was halted as heard the sound of a hammer being cocked behind him.

"Get up. And don't try any of your Matrix bullshit, either. I'm not in the mood," a nasally voice said from behind him. He could tell from his tone that whoever this guy was, he was exceedingly confident, maybe a little too confident. Ash could use that to his advantage.

"Don't move." Ash tensed his body as a hand groped his body and removed his Beretta from his back pocket. "Beretta, huh? Why am I not surprised? Well, at least you're smart enough to try and carry around a light 9mm weapon. Most of the guys I take down try to carry a heavy ass Desert Eagle on them."

A loud click echoed throughout the rain, followed by a clattering to his left. Ash sighed; the man had removed the magazine and tossed it away. His gun was useless now. He had to act quickly. "Jenkins, this is-," his report into his walkie-talkie was abruptly cut off as Ash whirled around and smacked the radio out of his hand, sending it flying into the water.

He quickly followed up with a kick to the man's kidneys; he wanted to end this skirmish quick. Surprisingly, the man leaned to the side and evaded the attack before countering with his own. An amazingly fast punch was thrown to Ash's face; faster than he expected. The fist connected with his jaw with a loud smack, sending Ash reeling from the force of the blow.

Ash looked at the man with a look of surprise; obviously he wasn't confident without a reason. He growled and flung a jab aimed at his throat, but it was expertly parried and countered with a chop to Ash's neck. Ash was ready this time and blocked, countering with an attack of his own.

Both of them attacked each other maliciously, but all of their attacks were futile as each blow was blocked or parried expertly by their opponent. Ash tried to catch him off-guard with a snap kick to the man's shin, but even that attack was dodged and countered with a roundhouse.

Ash caught his leg on his left shoulder and held a firm grip on it, immobilizing him. Ash smiled. "Looks like I got you." The other man smiled back as he yanked his pistol out of the holster on his other leg and pointed it at Ash's head.

"Me too." Neither of them dared to move; they were locked in a stalemate. "That's pretty cheap, you know. Pulling a gun on an unarmed man." The other man chuckled and maintained his weapon's gaze on Ash's head.

"So is kicking me in a fistfight, so we're even." Both of their eyes locked together, refusing to even register a glance in a different direction. Quickly, Ash took a glimpse on his left, hoping to fool his opponent into doing the same.

His eyes showed reluctance, but he soon took a look in the same direction for just a moment; yet it was all the time he needed. Ash hurled a fist into the man's thigh and moved his head simultaneously in time to barely avoid the bullet that was fired from the man in surprise. The searing air that was launched from the barrel burned his cheek as he tossed the man backwards and grabbed his face in pain.

The man fell into the water with a splash and groped around blindly through the liquid. Suddenly, the water near them churned, as if something was struggling underneath it. A light emanated from the source of the commotion, illuminating from under the water.

Both of them stared into the light, mesmerized. The light began to shine brighter and brighter, until they were both blinded completely. The other man screamed out, and in an instant, the light ceased.

Ash stumbled around, unable to see through the spots in his eyes. As his vision cleared, he spotted the man lying unconscious on the floor, his head under the water. Ash stared for a moment, then sat him up and leaned him against the wall. It seemed like he was still breathing; Ash chuckled. "Don't say I never did anything for you."

Ash felt through the water, his hand landing on the hilt of the sword and grabbed it. He looked back one last time at the man as he slipped the sword into its sheath and took off towards the double doors that formed the entrance to the museum.

"He's getting away! Open Fire!" Ash swore as he dashed to avoid another volley of gunfire and rammed his shoulder into the doors. The doors held steady, and Ash desperately tried to think of a way out. Part of the door was made of glass, and he could use that to his advantage. He turned around and searched, finding a trash can nestled in the corner.

Still trying to dodge the gunfire, he ran over and yanked the trash can up, tossing it into the glass door with a crash. He chuckled to himself as he dove through the remains of the door, and landed onto the concrete outside.

He layed a hand on a small sphere attached to his belt and clicked a button on it, enlarging it from the size ofa marble to a softball. Quickly, he tossed the ball out in front of him. The sphere opened with a loud crack and a flash of white energy, morphing into a huge bird with large, majestic wings.

"Pidgeot, let's get the hell outta here! The cops are on us!" The bird cawed in response and turned around, allowing Ash to hop onto its back. As soon as he landed on it, the bird spread its wings and took off into the storm, taking Ash and the sword with it.

A large man stepped through the broken glass and cursed loudly. "He got away." He felt around on his outfit, removing a large radio and clicked the button. "Jenkins to team. Suspect has evaded pursuit. Repeat, suspect has evaded pursuit. Halt all efforts." He sighed before clicking the button again. "And somebody wake up Curator Ivy. She's gonna be pissed."

The rain began to lighten up, decreasing in strength from a constant pounding to a light drizzle, almost instantly. Jenkins looked up into the night sky and raised his hands. "Now you decide to let up."

A loud crackle interrupted him, emanating from the radio in his hand. "What is it?"

"Sir, it's HQ. Waterflower wants to talk to you." Jenkins rolled his eyes and turned back into the museum.

"Fine, put her through." The radio crackled again for a moment before being replaced by a light feminine voice.

"So, how'd it go?" Jenkins was quiet for a moment, hesitant to tell her. "Jenkins...are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. The operation...didn't go exactly as we planned."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he got away. And he took the sword with him."

"What! What the hell do you mean, he got away! We sent in some of our best men, including you and Gary!" Jenkins' handheld radio rattled violently as the woman's voice erupted into a fit of rage.

"I don't know! The guy was good, very good. We'll find him. Have you gotten any leads on that shield yet?" The woman sighed.

"Harrison is out following some lead now, but I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up being a dead end too. Well, pack it up and bring it in. The Chief isn't gonna like this..."

"Alright. Jenkins out." Jenkins placed the radio in his pocket and sloshed through the water towards the group of officers that had gathered in the lobby. "Well, what's the report?"

"Two unconscious, and Agent Oak is missing, sir." Jenkins' was taken aback.

"Gary's gone MIA? Everyone sweep the building. Find him now."

"No need to, Jenkins. I'm right here." Jenkins whirled around to find Gary trotting up to them, his hair matted down from the downpour. He smiled lightly and felt himself down, cursing loudly.

"What is it?"

"That bastard took my Glock! That was custom made!"

"You mean you ran into him? Did you get a good look at him?" Gary nodded and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah. I don't know who he is, though. I do know one thing; he was good. Very good. Hey, did somebody happen to throw a flash grenade?" Jenkins looked at him, puzzled.

"No...why?" Gary's face crinkled up, a confused look on his face.

"Nevermind. Let' s get out of here."

The light drizzle pattered onto Ash's face as he and Pidgeot soared through the sky. He sighed and pulled the sword out of its sheath, examining it closely. What was with that light? He stared at the unique blade, mesmerized by the colors inside of it. A strange shimmer caught his eye, forcing him to squint as he leaned in closer to the blade.

The streaks of gold, silver, and and green began to shine brightly; the strange thing was that the others were still dull and dead looking. Ash's brow furrowed as he shook his head and placed the sword back in its sheath. I gotta rid of this thing as soon as I can.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud caw from Pidgeot; they had arrived home. Ash smiled as the bird began its descent to the small house; they had bought a small place outside of the city to use during their operations. The pokemon slowly circled the house and landed without a sound.

Ash hopped off the creature and patted its back, thanking it for the ride home. He looked at it playfully for a moment and unstrapped the sword from his back. "Go ahead. Just make sure you come back in a day, got it?" The bird nodded and nipped his ear gently before spreading its wings and taking off into the night sky.

Ash chuckled and turned to walk into the house, reaching his hand out to grab the doorknob before the door was yanked open. "What the hell happened, Ash! The connection cut off in the middle of the transmission! You broke Dexter again, didn't you! Damn it, Ash; do you think that I can just stroll on down to Radioshack and pick up some parts to fix him!"

Ash stared at the tall, lanky young man who was screaming his lungs out at him, letting him carry on. Max always did this; he was never exactly the laid-back type. He always worried constantly about something.

"Are you done ranting, Max? And for your information, I didn't break your precious equipment...this time. Dexter malfunctioned on his own; that means there's a design flaw, Max." Ash ripped open the pocket that held Dexter and tossed the small computer to him. "That's ok. It was a good time to upgrade him anyway. You might want to fix that grappling hook too. The wire snapped under my weight."

Max grumbled as he slammed the computer onto the counter and leaned against the counter. "I think you were set up. Almost as soon as we went under radio silence, the police line went insane. Somebody called them and tipped them off."

"Any idea who?" Max shook his head.

"Not yet. I've been searching, but I haven't turned up anything yet. I've also been trying to find more info on the sword, but there's almost no record of it until it was dug up a few months ago. It's really wierd." His eyes fell on the object in Ash's hands. "Is that the sword?"

Ash nodded and patted the weapon lightly. "Yup, and it was hell trying to get it, too," he said as a sharp pain reaced through his head. Instantly, he whirled around and prepared to strike out of reflex before stopping in his tracks.

"If you hit me Ashton Satoshi Ketchum, I swear to God, I will take your face and slam it through that window," her voice said menacingly. Her blue eyes glared at him through the long brown strands of hair that covered her face.

"Well maybe you should stop sneaking up on me and hitting me in the back of the head." She smiled, and smacked her palm onto his forehead.

"There. Now I hit you in your face." Max groaned and took a seat.

"You know, you guys a really strange idea of flirting. It's almost as bad as Brock."

"Really?" Max yelped as a large tanned hand slapped him in the back of the head. He growled and looked up to see Brock standing over him, smiling brightly.

"Ok, we need to chill out on the slapping, seriously." Brock chuckled and glanced at Ash, looking at the sword in his hands.

"That's it, huh? Well, pull it out, let's have a look at it." Ash grinned and pulled the sword out of its sheath and sat it onto the table in the middle of the room. The others gasped and moved in closer to get a good look.

"Oh my god, it's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it before in my life," May said quietly, in awe of the beauty of the blade. Brock and Max nodded, speechless. Ash cleared his throat.

"Be careful, there's something wei-," Ash was cut off as the sword began to vibrate violently on the table, clattering loudly. The others backed away quickly as it vibrated even fiercer, falling off of the table onto the carpet. A loud whine droned from the sword, growing louder and louder, causing the others to cover their ears.

"What's going on!" Brock exclaimed loudly over the noise. Ash shook his head. Soon, the sword began to light up again, filling the room; and it in an instant, it was gone. No sound, no vibration, no light, nothing. Ash looked around, only to see May and Brock lying on the floor. Max stared at him with a bewildered look on his face.

"Uh...Ash? What the hell just happened?"

"What the hell do you mean, he got away?" The face on the screen looked away nervously. "I asked you a question."

"Well, Agent Summers, he evaded pursuit, and...took the sword with him." Agent Summers growled angrily, wanting to smack the screen senseless. "Do you have anyway to contact him?"

"Yes. I was supposed to contact him in another two days to know if he had retrieved it or not. Unfortunately, thanks to your incompetent unit, I actually have to now."

"Well, you can use this as an opportunity to get it and kill him in the process. Do want a team to go with you?" She shook her head.

"I can handle one man by himself, which is more than I can say for all of you. Besides, maybe I can have a little fun with him afterwards." She smirked. "By the way, we've found the shield. I sent a team out to retrieve it now. He couldn't evade us for long. No one can. Keep us updated on the Special Forces' operations, understand?" The face nodded. "Good. Summers out."

His labored breath echoed through his mind as he raced through the alleyway behind his comrades. He took one look back, and regretted it instantly. The door he had just barricaded shut was thrown open, flying off of the hinges and careening into the brick wall with a smash. He gasped and tried to move his legs faster as his friends disappeared around the corner. He smiled; the car couldn't be too far ahead.

It was already hard to enough to try and outrun somebody; it was a hell of a lot harder with a huge crystal shield strapped to his back. He reached the corner and rounded it; the car was just ahead of him. His friends were already waiting for him, waving wildly at him as pumped his legs harder. "Mikey, hurry up! They're right behind you!" Just a few more steps...and then the car exploded into flames. Mikey's eyes widened; his friends, all of them, gone.

Mikey almost stopped for a moment, ready to collapse onto the ground in shock and grief, but the sounds behind him halted his thoughts. Grieving would have to wait until later; he had to get out of here alive first. A creature snarled from behind him, and snapped at his legs as he ran. A fire escape! That could be his way out! A growl erputed from behind him as he ran even harder and leapt, barely able to grab the iron bar that hung above him.

Mikey cried out in pain; one of their Houndooms had latched onto his leg with its teeth and was shaking its head fiercely, trying to bring him down. A warm liquid began to run down his leg; Mikey tried to block out the pain as he yanked his pistol from its holster and fired into the pokemon's skull. The Houndoom yelped out in surprise and pain, then fell onto the concrete below with a smack.

He wasted no time in climbing the steps, his right leg throbbing and pulsing in pain. More blood leaked out of the wound and soaked his pant leg as he grabbed the roof of the building and threw himself over. He stopped, breathing heavily for a moment before painfully climbing to his feet and beginning his limping run along the top of the building. He stopped for a moment and listened. All was quiet...had they lost track of him?

As if answering his question, the door on the roof slammed open, prompting Mikey to start his agonizing escape once again. He hadn't even taken three steps before a gunshot rang out, and left leg exploded into pain. He collapsed into a heap on the roof and groaned loudly. He quickly yanked his pistol out of its holster again and aimed at his pursuers before another bullet pierced his wrist.

The gun clattered to the floor, followed by a terrible scream that emerged from Mikey's chapped and cracked lips. "Get the shield." The man who seemed to lead the other two directed. As the others retrieved the shield from Mikey's back, the leader stood over him and stared at him with little emotion."How much do you know?"

Mikey spit at him, causing the man to reel back in surprise and disgust. "That's how much I know, you son of a bitch!" The man sighed and stepped closer, the rising sun behind him illuminating his face. Without warning, he slammed his foot onto Mikey's injured hand. He screamed out as the pain shot through his arm into his entire body. The night air was filled with the blood-curdling screams of Mikey as they pried him for answers. Mikey had none for them, all he had was the shield he had stolen for them.

The man chuckled and stared at the man that lay on the ground before him, tears covering his face as he had almost passed out from pain alone. "Well, it looks like you don't know anything after all. We longer have any use for you. Goodbye." The man raised his gun and placed the barrel against Mikey's right eye; Mikey's breathing quickened greatly. He couldn't believe it, he was going to be killed on an empty rooftop; far from his thoughts of him dying peacefully in a bed at old age. The hammer cocked backed loudly, and he could see a bullet load into the chamber.

"Those Shadow things will-" Mikey's head dropped to the roof, limp and lifeless as the bullet ripped through him. The leader scoffed and placed his gun back into its holster.

"Great. I got blood all over my favorite shirt."