Hector was surrounded. Of course, this wasn't an unusual thing for him; fans, paparazzi: They surrounded him frequently. What was unusual was that these three men were armed, and more importantly, pointing their guns at him. He slipped one hand to rest on his revolver, and the other taps the tin badge on his chest. "Easy, amigos. Trust me, you don't want to do this."

One of them sneered and spoke. "Bullshit, this has been comin' long time."

He sighed, and smirked. "Very well." In a flash, four shots were fired. His three targets hit the hard wooden floor, but one of them managed to get a shot off. Hector spins around to look at where the shot connected. There, he could see it: A lit lantern falling off the wall, and underneath it, barrels of gunpowder. He had seconds to move.

Hector rushed towards the window, leaping through the glass as the building explodes. He fell two stories, yet landed softly on a stunt mattress.

"Cut! Scene!" Called the director. "Great work today guys, clean up, I'll see you in the morning."