Days before, in the Avalon Hill district in Bludhaven, you can hear piano keys from a Brownstone building. The curtain in the brownstone rustled in the breeze as twenty-year-old protégé pianists Aimee Baine, piercing green eyes and jet-black hair, flowed down over her shoulders in the windows.
Watching Aimee from outside is her bodyguard/Chauffeur, Van Campbell. His six-foot-five, at least, wavy black hair streaked with gray. In his early fifties, Campbell wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, red tie, black dress shoes, and a Glock 34 in a brown leather holster. He leaned against a blue Mercedes CLS 550, observing his environment, and enjoying the beautiful sound of the piano keys as Aimee played away.
As he stood by the car, the traffic in front of the brownstone was pounding for at least thirty minutes before it thinned out. He straightened as his honed senses in on high alert—a Bludhaven City Police Department Police car cruised by slowly. Campbell makes eye contact with two cops. Something is out of place, and Campbell's been on Aimee's protective detail long enough to know who patrolled the area. He knew the officers' names and the time their shifts started and ended.
Unfamiliar with the two cops in the cruiser, Campbell started across the street towards the brownstone. A White Toyota Corolla is coming the other way as this is happening. The police car reversed back, coming to a screeching halt and cutting Campbell off from the brownstone. As the fake cops got out, looking at Campbell with big smiles on their faces, he drew his Glock 34. 9mm without hesitation and fired.
The shots startled Aimee and her instructor; they quickly left the piano. They attempted to exit the room, but the front door burst open, and a gunman wearing a rabbit mask entered the brownstone, Glock 19 drawn, searching for Aimee. Scrambling through the house, he heard the scrambling of Aimee and the instructor fleeing to the backdoor. He fired the instructor on the teacher. She kicked around and fell to the floor. Blood spurted from the teacher's right leg, and she fell hard to the floor.
The gunman caught up to Aimee with tears in her eyes, and she stopped, dramatized by the horrific act that had just taken place. The gunman aimed the Glock at her head and told her to move towards the front door.
Campbell found himself in a pinch with the shooters, with no time to think about strategies he must secure Aimee. Campbell planted himself the Glock now level and fired twice into fake cop # one's center mass. He fired two more rounds into fake cop # 2. He was hit high in the chest and throat.
Campbell pivots and strides calmly forward, firing at the men from the Corolla. The gunman on the passenger side goes down, hit in the ribs. Two bullets slammed into Campbell's, backfired inside the Corolla, and fired back in three rapid sessions. Gunman three fell dead, hit just below his nose, and the fat driver fired and hit Van's shoulder.
Campbell looks up and see's Aimee struggling, fighting for her life, but it's no good; the kidnappers overpower her. Campbell can do nothing but watch. He'd risk the chance of endangering Aimee if he continued to fire his Glock. Campbell dropped the Glock fell to his knees and crumpled over on his side. Everything goes very, very black, and he passes out.