Yay a reply.
Chris runs to the nearest wall, peers around the corner to say a couple of guards having a conversation.
Guard#1: I haven't seen Greg tonight
Guard#2: He's guarding the main enterance isn't he?
Guard#1: Well he isn't answering his radio...
Chris pulls out the Dog Tags from beneath his coat. All of them tropheys of those who died at Chris's hands. The latest one reads:
Gregory Rapsole
Blood Type: O
DOB: 17/04/73
Nationality: Russian
Before the second guard has time to draw breath for his next sentance, he finds himself staring at a Fivefoot tall dark haired woman, Christina. Before he can react to this he's knocked unconcious with a swift blow to the head.
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