Judging from the clientele heading in/out of the Cowboy Tom's, this probably isn't a social club involving drinking vintage port and discussing Wittgenstein...more like drinking shots o' whiskey and smacking people over the head with pool cues.
Two biker-looking guys stagger out and head for their Harleys, but not before one of them starts to relieve himself on the Hummer's front bumper. He appears not to have a care in the world and doesn't take much consideration that Harry and Artis are sitting in the front seats while he (literally) pisses the night away.
Artis lets his foot off the brake slightly, letting the Hummer drift forward...and onto the unsuspecting (he's about 4x the legal limit) biker's foot.
It takes a good few seconds for the debilitated neurotransmitters to send "Hey, you stupid fuck...a truck just parked a truck on your foot" to the biker's brain. He starts screaming over to his buddy. The other biker pulls a knife out his boot and comes running over to Artis' door. Artis activates the Hummer's point-defense guns and the biker immediately drops his knife, turning tail and heading for his Harley.
About 30 seconds go by as Artis leaves the Hummer parked on the biker's foot. The biker's screams finally get noticed by a few locals heading out of the bar. They come over to see what all the screaming is about and notice the biker's foot trapped under the Hummer. Before they have a chance to properly react, Artis steps out of the Hummer, using the door as cover and asks them.
"Excuse me sirs, we're in hot pursuit of a suspect whom we believe is in there. Did you notice a man (Mike's description) like that inside?"
They looked a bit confused
"Um...yeah...but...but...what about that guy under your tire??!"
At that point, Artis radios the rest of team.
"Decker's in there, he's in there!", then shouts at the people to get behind the Humvee.
They seem to get Artis' point as they scurry behind.
Artis they tells them,
"You need to get in your vehicles as quickly as possible and leave the area, that that man is armed and dangerous and has already killed an officer and several civilians."
Harry still hasn't said anything, but the look in his blue eyes is one of cold, focused, fury. He pulls a gun out from the back seat and checks it. With a couple hand gestures, he motions for artis to lean in.
"Do we want to do this the safe way, or the fun way?"
On that note, Harry and Artis get out of the Hummer with Artus chucking a flashbang through the most centrally-located window of the bar.
Brian readies a shot at the first sign of Decker leaving as Jess says a prayer and hangs on for dear life, all the while scouting out the softest object below to land on...just in case of....well, you know.
The grenade crashes through the window, landing on the bar floor and rolling a few additional feet. The flash momentary illuminates all the exterior windows of the bar as the secondary concussion blast activates.
Screams are heard from inside as patrons begin flooding out the entrance and back door of the bar. Most are storming out blindly in a herd mentality.
The team starts looking out for any signs of Mike exiting either door...no sign of him thusfar. An educated guess would put the number of people still inside (excluding the waitstaff and other employees) at around a dozen or so.
Brian keeps a watchful eye at anyone matching Mike's description. Someone staggers out the back as he lines up a headshot.
-Safety Off-
Alright, you bastard...time to reap the whirlwind. CRAP!
Harry moves inside the bar minding his surroundings and perhaps draw some fire...which he does!
Mike pops out from behind what looks to be doors leading to the bar's kitchen and immediately greets Harry with a barrage of 12-gauge slugs.
Ha-ha!!!...Die you pricks, all of you!!!, Mike yells as the trauma of the hits temporarily daze the crooner as he struggles to remain conscious from the bullet impacts.
He fires two wide bursts at Mike from his MP5 as he moves in to avenge his fallen comrades all the while shouting obscenities at him.
"Fuck you!...Fuck you!"
The bullets trace a path across Mike's chest ending in a wood chipper-like shredding of his left leg. Mike grimaces in pain as his kneecap is sundered by the hail of 9mm gunfire.
Harry takes a moment to recover then takes refuge behind a thick table. He pops up to fire at Mike. His shot hits Mike's armor but seems to be a bit paltry compared to Artis' last attack.
Meanwhile, Brian goes through the back door and into the kitchen area of the bar. He hears gunfire, so he knows he's close to the action. Moving in further, he gets a glimpse of a cringing cook and a nervous waitress hiding behind some beer kegs. Panning around he also sees Mike taking cover behind a wall. He sights down on him and takes the shot.
The bullet strikes Mike square in the back with a good *thwack!*, his blood spattering against the clean stainless steel cookware of the kitchen.
With Brian flanking from the rear, Artis goes in for the kill.
"Decker, say hello to your wife for me!"
He fires a series of wide and narrow bursts, aiming at Mike's vitals. The bullets cut across Mike's neck, nicking his jugular as the rest tear apart cartilage and bone in his right arm.
The assassin slumps down, holding tight to his shotgun as to not fall completely to the floor. He slowly turns around at the agents, making direct eye contact with Artis as he pulls out what appears to be a some sort of device.
"Oh yeah Mr. G-Man...I'll race you there. Hannah sends her best."
*click*
(Cue simultaneous OH SHIT! from the team members)
[color=red:c599d4c389]KA-BOOM![/color]
Outside in Newschopper 9
Jess and everyone else on the helicopter see the Cowboy Bill's erupt in a Die-Hard-esque explosion, sending flames nearly as high as the hovering Newschopper. It gets flame-kissed, but the pilot manages to keep control.
Around what's left of Cowboy Bill's
Artis pulled a John McClane, diving out the front door just as Mike pushed the switch. He's alright, save a few singed bits of clothing and minus an eyebrow or two.
It was good thing Brian was still in the back room when the explosives went off. Buried under a few feet of rubble and assorted kitchen debris lays the agent. He's still alive, but could probably use some serious medical attention at most earliest of conveniences.
Harry didn't fare so well. He took most of the explosion head on and to quote Sinatra,
By calling me all those names.
I'll admit you got really next to me somehow.
I wish that I'd get the best of you,
The way that you did my heart,
But I've got no encouragement from the start.
It depends on what you consider the best,
When you get the best of me.
But when you get through taking over the best,
You can have the rest of me.
Now I consider the best of me
The love that I always give,
If you thought that you got the best of me,
Well, you did.
Dieter
