[IMGleft]http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b383/Mysthero/Interpolbadge.png[/IMGleft]Lightning cracked above the city of Lyon, France. The sky hurled thunderbolts and shook the ground with thunder. Lyon was a city of culture, of romance, love... the bonds that held humanity together were absent in a small house on the corner street of Carnot. Lightning clashed in the black sky once again awakening a lone man in his bed. He sat up from bed in a cold sweat and heavy breathing from the nightmares the vicodin had given him for the past few hours. With some grunting and light regret he dragged himself out of bed to look out the window. He stood there only for a few moments before lightning flashed and blinded him.


[IMGright]http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b383/Mysthero/Gun3.png[/IMGright]In Paris they were on the trail of an infamous hitman and they had tracked him down to a very popular hotel. After a three years they had finally caught him, and they were going to make sure that he paid for his crimes. A few swat teams surrounded the area and did their best to seal all the possible ground escape routes. "Three years... do you really think we cornered him here? Charles? The man's partner asked as they stood side by side outside of the hotel building doors. To which the man responded as he looked onto the many windows of the almost full hotel room. "I didn't wait this long to stop now... we go in."


Charles looked away from the window and rubbed his eyes, his mind must have been playing tricks on him. He wasn't fully awake yet and he couldn't focus yet, that had to be it. Charles went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Only wearing boxers to cover the essentials, his body had gone through extensive training so he could be among the best detectives in the world, a few scars marring his chest and a three bullet scars, two of which were in his chest and one in his left forearm that sent him out of action for the past eight months. He went over to the sink and ran cold water through his hands to splash it onto his face.


[IMGleft]http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b383/Mysthero/Interpol2.png[/IMGleft]The Swat teams surrounded the hotel room and prepared to breach, but before they even reached the door the hotel room exploded into a fiery inferno. The hitman hid in a bathtub with an explosive charge just under it... when the charge went off it sent the structured bathtub crashing down to the floor below allowing him ample time to get into the hallways away from the swat team members. Firefighting broke out in the hallways but the fire did its work perfectly, the lights went out and now the hitman was in his element. "Frank..." Charles called into his radio, "Frank! Respond!" "He's in here Charles! I got him!" gunshots rang out on the other end of the hall and when Charles tried to get there, he would be interrupted by taking shot a shot to the arm, angered by the sudden attack he fired blindly down the hall but his muzzle flares gave him away to the specter and two more bullets found their target.


Charles pulled away from the sink in a panic, looking at himself in the mirror, that scared look on his face, it quickly turned to self loathing. All he could see in his reflection was the hitman mocking his failures and dead partner. Charles' anger quickly turned to rage and punch through the mirror in hate, blood dripping down the mirror and other the sink from his hand. He couldn't sit around anymore... there were too many scores to settle. He took two pills of vicodin, grabbed his badge and left to get dressed.