This is how Fox Kennedy was captured by the police. It is set right before 'pride'. Just to forewarn you, my mind is set in M-rated-mode right now so this may be a little explicit, but I'll try to keep it to T. It isn't particularly graphic, but this one's a bit of a blood-bath.

The harsh pounding on the door was all but drowned out by the sound of the shower. A young man groaned as his ears caught the knocking. He stood under the shower a few moments longer, washing shampoo and blood from his hair. The pink-stained water trickled down his back. It tickled. When he was sure he had gotten the last of the gore from himself, he switched the shower off, leaving the last few discoloured droplets to drip from lean muscles. He idly wrapped a hotel towel around his slim hips, rolling his eyes as the pounding on the door insisted.

He threw several hand-gestures towards the door on his way past it to the bedroom. He made no effort to hurry, instead took his time getting dressed, slowly slipping a knife into each combat-boot and a gun into the waistband of his trousers. He even stopped to count the number of bullets in his spare clips before he left the room, loosening his tie as he walked. It had become almost a uniform, jet black and hanging inches from his neck, never done up properly and almost always hidden beneath a leather jacket. It was far from convenient, but something about it's presence was comforting. It was nice to know it would always be present, while everything else was changing.

The people on the other side of the door seemed to be getting impatient. "Yes, yes, I can hear you. There is no need to treat the door so badly though." he chimed, smiling at the momentary pause int the thumps. "Fox Kennedy, we know you're in there. Open the door and come out with you hands up." a man commanded from the other side. Fox shook his head in amusement, leaning over to the tiny glass circle in to door to look outside. Four police officers, three men and a woman, were stood outside. They were actually armed, with more than just batons and pepper spray, and had their weapons drawn. "Open the door immediately or we will break it down." the same officer ordered, much to Fox's delight. He pulled a cricket-bat from where it was lent against the hinges of the door, testing it's weight and lovingly inspecting the blood stains that were already on it. He held it up like he would if he were playing rounders and leaned close to the door to speak. "Alright, break the down down."

Smiling in amusement as the first blow struck the door, he stepped back and got ready to swing. It only took a few more hits for the lock to give way and the door to swing inwards. He brought the bat down on the head of the first police officer that walked through the door. The moment he crumpled to the floor he grabbed the next one, the woman, around the throat and held the gun to her head. He made a point of flicking the safety off, slowly so that the other two could see what he was doing. "You didn't think I would be above taking hostages, did you?" he asked, smiling evilly at them. "I would recommend you all put your weapons down and face the wall, else I will shoot her." The two police officers seemed to hesitate for a moment, then dropped their guns and turned to face the wall behind them. He twisted the policewoman round so that she was facing the other officers and forced his gun against her temple until she dropped her own weapon.

The first one he shot was the one on the floor, knocked out with the cricket bat. It was a clean shot, straight to the head, and an instant, painless death. The other two weren't as lucky, they both turned when they heard the gunshots. The first was shot in the stomach, a guarenteed fatality, but much slower and more painful than a headshot. The second he caught in the chest as the man bent to retrieve his gun. Blood leaked from the wound like a river, staining the floor. The bodies lay in a bloodied mess on the carpet, only the man shot in the stomach still groaning in pain. Fox contemplated putting the man out of his misery, then shruged and beggan dragging the remaining police officer along the corridor.

There was no doubt that the other residents had been woken by the gun shots. They were most likely sitting in their hotel rooms, wondering what had happened but too frightened to leave their room and find out. The cop was squirming in Fox's grip, even with his hand around her throat and a gun to her head. "Now, tell me, how many other police officers are there here, and just where are they?" he hissed in her ear, jabbing her once with the gun to make a point. She whimpered slightly, then muttered, "There are six at the front entrance, two outside each fire door."

"I'm honored." he sneered, pulling her to the nearest fire door. He tapped it lightly with his foot, waiting for a reaction. "Hello, are there any police officers out there?" he asked in a honeyed tone.

There was a brief silence before a gruff voice answered, "Identify yourself now." Fox tutted and lifted his foot up to rest it on the bar marked push. The policewoman's eyes seemed to drift down his leg, but quickly returned to the door. He shrugged it off and returned his attention to the officers on the other side. "I'm going to open the door, and I should hope you won't shoot me, since that would make quite a mess." He held the woman officer tightly, pointed the gun forwards, and slammed his foot against the push-bar that opened the fire door.

As the door swung open, it struck one of the officers, knocking him over the railing and sending him crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. He aimed his gun at the second officer and pulled back the trigger, expecting the sound of it firing and the spray of blood, but getting nothing more than an empty click. "Bastard." he snarled, dropping the empty weapon into his pocket, "Well it looks like I'm doing this the old fashioned way." The police officer, in a state of shock, missed a valuable opportunity to shoot when Fox tossed his hostage aside and tackled him. The cop managed to pull his hand away as Fox lunged for the gun, but didn't manage to dodge a punch in the face. After a couple more hits Fox made another attempt for the gun, this time grabbing the barrel and tugging violently. He pulled it from the other mans grip and flipped it round in his hand, firing a shot into the officer's chest at point-blank.

He stood and swung round in one fluid movement, searching out the policewoman. He was caught of guard by a blow to the should that made him drop the gun, apparently with a snapped-off tree branch. He managed to catch the next swing, but the cop refused to let go of the branch and he could hear the shouts of several more behind him. The policewoman dropped the branch, almost sending Fox stumbling back, and dived for the gun. He brought the branch down on the back of her head just before she could reach it, not knocking her out but knocking her down. His next swing drew blood, smashing her nose off the floor, and a third knocked her unconscious. He quickly threw her over the railing, retrieving the stolen gun and running back inside before she hit the ground.

There were police running up the walkway towards the fire door, which in his haste Fox carelessly left open. He didn't bother to call the elevator and headed straight for the stairs, taking them two at a time. However, he was barely two floors down when he was stopped dead by half of a dozen police officers. When he turned to run back up, he found the ones behind him had caught up. Each had their weapons drawn, pointed at him. "Hands in the air. Now." one of the ordered, jabbing him between the shoulder-blades with the muzzle of a gun. He obediently lifted his hands into the air, dropping the gun, the smirk gone from his face and his eyes wide with shock. He snapped back to himself as one of the police officers tried to handcuff him, reacting with a Sharp kick to the man's lower regions.

He swiped the knife from one of his boots, mannaging to get another officer in the shoulder, before he was pinned against the wall, four bulky men holding him in place. The knife was forced from his hand, and his own gun quickly pulled from his pocket, as well as the spare ammunition. They missed the other knife hidden in his boot, but he was handcuffed before he had chance to pull it out. He was forced onto his knees and brought to eye level with the officer he had stabbed, her face pale and blood dripping from the wound. One of the officers was on his phone, calling for an ambulance by the sounds of it. Fox was pulled off the ground, away from the injured and glaring woman, and pushed forwards, down the stairs.

People were staring at him as Fox was bundled into a police car outside the four-star hotel, his shirt stained with patches of blood. He only just avoided hitting his head on the car as he was forced in, the door slammed shut behind him. Two police officers got in the front, one glaring and the other one just ignoring him completely. The one who had been glaring leaned towards the wire mesh between them as he did his seat-belt up, and sneered, "Try not to drop the soap in the showers." Fox spat at him before he had chance to turn away again, almost wanting to laugh at the open anger in the man's face. "Don't worry," he chimed, trying to fake a sunny disposition, "I'm sure I won't be there long."