[b][i]Name: Mark 'Scrapper' Winters
Location: Thug Hideout, West part of town
Time: 7pm[/I][/b]

Mark and several others in his gang sat around the TV though they weren't really watching it. Beer bottles and junk food lay across the table. Mark had identified a few profitable houses and they would need to go stealing tonight, but for now there was nothing to do. Including the boss, there were five in the gang. One was drunk, another on a high and the third was nowhere to be seen. Mark was boringly flicking through all the channels, as if trying to put on a light show for himself. 

The boss however, looked concerned as he stood by the window, staring out on the streets. "Something's wrong. It's too damn quiet down there" said the Boss.

"Well, from the looks of it, the city needs to evacuate...!" said Mark as he stopped on the news channel. Mark and the Boss looked at each other for a moment before both of them bursted into laughter. Yeah right. Thugs evacuating at a time like this. This was the best time for raids! 

"You know what? I bet's it's one of them net hoaxes gone wild!" scoffed Mark. The phones all went dead before they flashed that strange message. Mark stared at it for a moment before shrugging it off. "Looks like the hackers are in on this too. Hehe, sounds kinda fun" said Mark, amused by all that was going on. After all, it's not every day chaos happens right in front of your face.

"Nah. It's a reason for the cops to bust all of us. Kill us too if they want. Scrapper. Go check on the box" said the Boss, throwing Mark the container keys. The 'box' contained all their stolen wares and if the cops got to it, then it would be bad for business.

"Sure thing" said Mark as he caught the keys. He grabbed his Desert Eagle as well as a spare clip, tucking them into the pocket of his pants. Next was his Kukri - a weapon that didn't rely on ammunition. Tying the final knot on his bandana and then zipping up his jacket, Mark gave his Boss a back wave before heading out the door. He smiled at his Ducati as he started the engine - it would be a fine night out. Plenty of pickings.

As Mark tore down the streets, an uneasy feeling started inside of him. It was unsettling to see traffic all going in the opposite direction. People seemed panicked for some reason. Heh, stupid fuckers. Looks like they fell for whatever prank some kid's playing. Well let them continue their own chaos. Mark had a job to do. The container wasn't far - it was at an old lot, buried between other containers. There were a few barricades along the way, so Mark just swerved and took an alternate route. 

Mark then heard a familiar sound - one that he should dread. Police chopper overhead! Dang those snipers in the sky. What were they doing? Following him? Mark slowed down on the road before he stopped and watched as the chopper flew off into the distance. It seemed to be circling? No wait. There was another... two more. Three police choppers in total, not counting the news. Mark scanned the skyline. There wasn't any signs of fire or explosions. Just what was the hoax about anyway? Why did everyone seem to be so in on it? 

Eh whatever. It's all about the pickings. But before that - the box. Better make sure no cops were crawling all over it. Mark continued down the road, turning into the quieter streets. Hey, if everyone was leaving, then it'd mean he would be able to break into the mechanic's shop and steal some free parts for his Ducati! This is going to be great night! Freeee bike parts! Well okay, so maybe the hoax might not be a hoax. But whatever it was, it was to the gang's benefit. After all, they could always loot the entire town and then leave! A win-win! HAH!

An explosion seemed to go off far in the distance. It made Mark stop in his tracks, frowning as he tried to discern what it was from. Air bombings like the movies? Can't be. Feh, maybe just other looters going about their business blasting shops apart.