"... and that's how I saved Rio de Janeiro from the Eight Syndicates of 2050." The workmen around him clapped, cheering him on. It was a story they had all heard before as children, how the War Wolf of the Brasil Republique had gone on many adventures in his life. Hell, he was a legend, a real-life Captain America. He had comic books, movies, and novels written about him. It was pretty flattering, if Chico were to be honest.

If America weren't an oligarchy which in no way resembled its' founding values now- anyways, that was neither here nor there. Taking a sip of water from the cooler they were all drinking from, Chico prepared to tell another story, back from the 1990's, when he had assisted the Colombian Confederacy in their American-Backed 'War on Drugs', when a scream split the dusty air of the reconstruction site.

Immediately throwing his helmet back on, feeling the familiar pressurized hiss of the internal oxygen filters purifying the air in his lungs, and the HUD came alive, marking all of the construction workers within a 1000 meter radius with blue dots, and showing Chico that there was a foreign presence about 10 meters away, and three stories down. Sprinting forward, Chico leapt from the edge, and free-fell through the air, getting a complete view of the situation.

Some stereotypically British doof of a salaryman had just ripped out the foreman for this sector's spine. That was one indication that he was more than human, but his EAS (Electric Ambiance Sensor) confirmed it. This guy glowed like a HyperChristmas tree, evidence of some scramblers, which meant a cyborg, because there was no way that he had the means to scramble ECM and rip out a man's spine otherwise.

Landing in the superhero position, Chico grabbed his SCAR off its' position on his lower back, and whipped it around quicker than the eye can see, pointing it at the cyborg's center mass.

"Sir, I don't know who you are, but if you don't stand down and surrender, you and I are going to have quite a bit of fun before I put you six feet under." Xil Gil couldn't see his smile, but Chico was grinning wildly. "And believe me, I want you to try something. It's been so long since I had a good fight."

As soon as the cyborg opened his mouth, Chico fired, letting loose at full automatic at the doofy-looking murderer.

@Doc Doctor Chico saw the thin spray of blood as his bullets hit center mass, and smiled. So he could be hurt by bullets. He wasn't some sort of invincible tank. Then, he raised his hands, and Chico frowned. White puffs of smoke, like hitting sandbags or armored plate. Alternating his aim towards different parts of the man's body, the man managed to track the bullets. Interesting. So he had enhanced reflexes, like Chico, and unlike Chico, had armor focused on his hands. Well then, it seemed that he would have to rectify that situation.

Holding the SCAR steady in his right hand, and continuing to fire, Chico reached around his back, and grabbed the H-MAC, leveling it at the ground in front of the British cyborg. "Pretty sure that's not how the law works when you kill someone unprovoked, pendejo!"

Holding down the trigger, Chico unloaded the H-MAC into the ground, 12 grenades exploding in the span of two seconds.

@Doc Doctor Chico didn't get where he was by being unprofessional. However, when the man flinched and jumped back, he almost bent over laughing. "Amor de cristo, homem! It's only a fuckin' grenade launcher! Calm your tits!"

However, even as he said this, he backed away quickly, opening fire with the SCAR once more, aimed at his chest. This was a distraction, because when the man blocked with his hands, he would fire twice at his feet, hopefully launching him into the air.

@Doc Doctor Chico tossed the battle rifle aside as the empty chamber clicked, for in a close-quarters fight, you'd not have any opportunity to reload. Frowning, he backed up as the cyborg approached.

The euphemism was pretty ham-handed, but Chico didn't care. He was about to fire, when out of nowhere, four workmen approached the fight, coming within the grenade launcher's blast radius. Slinging it on his back, he swapped out to the SAW, and leveled it at the man.

Then, out of nowhere, the four workers tackled him to the ground, beating on the twit with hammers. Damn it, what were they doing? They'd get themselves killed.

"Hey, hey, hey, back up! I've got this, you just stand back!" The workers stopped, never taking their eyes off the cyborg, staring at him resentfully. Apparently the foreman had been fairly popular among the laborers.

Approaching the cyborg on the ground, LMG pointed at him, Chico had his finger on the trigger, ready to fire at the slightest twitch. "You now have two options, mijo de puta, surrender, or die. Give me one reason to fire."

@Doc Doctor The man thought himself important. Well, he'd have to disappoint the man, for he wasn't.

Walking forward and placing a foot on the man's chest, Chico rested the barrel of the SAW on the man's forehead, finger on the trigger, and bending down, reached into the man's left pocket. Hopefully he would try something. Then he could end this smarmy bastard.

@Doc Doctor Chico had expected the man to grab his leg and the SAW's barrel, yes, but he didn't expect him to move so quick, even with the wired reflexes of a cyborg. His leg was quickly grabbed, but as soon as the man began to move, his finger, with reflexes tempered on thousands of battlefields, pulled the trigger, getting off 10 rounds in the half-second before the barrel was crumpled, aimed at the Englishman's chest.

Whether his leg was crushed or not, the SAW's barrel was, and Chico let go of the gun, leaving his hands free. Grabbing down at the Englishman's head, Chico was prepared to grab and twist the first thing that his hands came into contact with, reaching over the ruined SAW.