When you are tagged, the hunters get all your info for free. You become marked for the rest of your life for your crimes. For hot-wiring 200 cars and trespassing, the hunters will probably do more than just drag me to jail. But Wallace said I had forty seconds to get out of there. That's because there is one regulation left for the hunters - they have to wait forty seconds before they try to catch you.
And I was on the far side of a parking garage.
Out of my pack I grabbed a baseball bat. It is my all-time favorite weapon, and I'm surely going to have to use it now. The cars sped past my line of sight as I ran towards the exit. 10... 9... 8...
An employee spots me before I make it out. He's between me and the door. Before the forty seconds was up, he pulls out a pistol and I hear shots. He was a terrible marksman, but his gunshots gave light to the garage. I saw hundreds of mercs waiting to have their piece of me, approaching with each flash. Forty seconds quickly became a flawed estimate of how long I have to live!
I run up to the first guy on my way to the door and swing the bat around. WHAM. He's out like a light bulb. Twenty feet from the door, and the others are closing in on me. Ten feet and I hit another. Five feet and I'm surrounded. Their clubs pounded on my arms and chest, and I was handcuffed. The earpiece Wallace uses to give oversight in the missions was ripped off and stuffed in a plastic bag. The last thing I saw was a booted foot approaching my face.
As soon as I gained consciousness, I began to panic. The room I was in was dark, except for a single hot light, blaring into my eyes. The handcuffs had been replaced by nylon ropes all over my body.
And I was on the far side of a parking garage.
Out of my pack I grabbed a baseball bat. It is my all-time favorite weapon, and I'm surely going to have to use it now. The cars sped past my line of sight as I ran towards the exit. 10... 9... 8...
An employee spots me before I make it out. He's between me and the door. Before the forty seconds was up, he pulls out a pistol and I hear shots. He was a terrible marksman, but his gunshots gave light to the garage. I saw hundreds of mercs waiting to have their piece of me, approaching with each flash. Forty seconds quickly became a flawed estimate of how long I have to live!
I run up to the first guy on my way to the door and swing the bat around. WHAM. He's out like a light bulb. Twenty feet from the door, and the others are closing in on me. Ten feet and I hit another. Five feet and I'm surrounded. Their clubs pounded on my arms and chest, and I was handcuffed. The earpiece Wallace uses to give oversight in the missions was ripped off and stuffed in a plastic bag. The last thing I saw was a booted foot approaching my face.
As soon as I gained consciousness, I began to panic. The room I was in was dark, except for a single hot light, blaring into my eyes. The handcuffs had been replaced by nylon ropes all over my body.
