Umbrella Surveillance System
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Cerberus It is a new day within Paris as many citizens working the morning shifts got read for the day. The weather was mild enough to see the stars twinkling and shining brightly overhead. A gentle northeasterly breeze cools the night air; stirring the few clouds to float slowly across the sky.
Bob While not a native, Bob is nonetheless taking advantage of the beautiful night to go for a walk to take in Paris at Christmas time. There's a relaxed sigh when he finds a good place to stop and stare at things for a moment, leaning against a handy lightpole and crossing his legs at the ankles.
Cerberus The traffic was light as night transition to the morning hour. Few people were on the streets and the air felt cooler with the breeze that blew. The traffic varied between cars, trucks and cyclist. The area Bob decided to pause at had little in the way of restaurants and coffee shops. A single bar and coffee shop resided on the block; most of it was made up of apartment bungalows.
Bob After his little break Bob decides it's time to get a drink, moseying on towards the nearby coffee shop. As he closes in on it he checks to make sure that it's actually open. It is a major holiday, after all.
Cerberus The Coffeeshop was indeed closed; a sign hung saying 'closed for Christmas week.' The bar, however is open.
Bob Well, that narrows it down. Bob heads into the bar now that the choice is made easy, taking a quick look around to find himself a place at the bar to order a beer.
Cerberus It was not an upscale of a bar; it was more a hole in the war bar. Lights were dimmed, with a few of them even being out. A bar ran along the left wall, coming out curving and heading toward the back ten feet. Behind the bar was a mirror with scrawling of "Micky's Bar"; on either side was shelving that held the various liquor. Tables were scattered around the area; toward the back were two pool tables and the heads. A tall gruff of a man stood behind the bar, wiping the counter. Four other men stood within; varying in ethnicity.
Bob A dive bar never frightened Bob away from a drink before. He makes his way towards the bar, hopping onto a stool and giving the barman a nod, "Biere, s'il vous plait." After he orders he goes digging into his pocket to extract some money, laying a bill on the counter before him.
Cerberus the man grunts, nodding as he filled a beer from tap and slid it down to Bob before he turned away. The door opens and closes again as three more men walked in; darken skin and wearing clothes befitting to the weather. The people within turn to see the men, eyeing them quietly before going back to what they were doing.
Bob Bob's also one of those guys who turns to check out the newcomers, taking a drink from the glass he'd been given as he does so. They look enough like they belong that Bob turns back to face forward and go for another drink again, apparently enjoying himself based on the almost relieved sounding "Ahh" noise that he makes.
Cerberus The three men head further to the bar, setting up along the outcrop extending from the wall. The four men turned and paid for their drinks and casually walked out. Micky grunts, walking over to the men and spoke with them quietly. Turning, Micky brought down three beer bottles before walking off toward the back quietly.
Bob As there's definitely nothing amiss, Bob continues to relax at the bar, barely noting the people leaving the establishment as he enjoys his drink. It's not the worst place for a beer, or the worst place he's spent Christmas as a matter of fact.
Cerberus The men chat quietly in a foreign language that is not accustom to France; but it was hard to place the location. They glanced around the bar, looking toward Bob briefly before talking again in the same language.
Bob When he catches one of the new strangers look towards him, Bob gives the fellow a casual nod of acknowledgement. Gotta be polite, after all. He finishes up his beer quickly enough, licking his lips as he sets the empty glass down on the bar. There's a glance to make sure that there's enough change left on the bar to make a tip for the bartender before Bob heads for the door to resume his Christmas stroll.
Cerberus After bob left back to the streets, the three men walked out of Micky's. It was a few minutes' worth of a delay, of course. They walk and talk quietly, laughing slightly; there direction seems to be the same way Bob is going.
Bob Still enjoying the evening, Bob keeps going on his way, not really headed anywhere in particular, other than a more populated part of the city in the hopes of getting some coffee. Quite relaxed, almost, just doing his thing.
Cerberus One of the men moved ahead of his two friends and past Bob, turning a bit as he said "Hey, don't I know ya from some place?" A smile on his face; his accent is thick, Caribbean like. the other two continue to walk toward them, speaking in their language.
Bob Turning when the guy asks him a question, Bob pauses to look him over for a second, his brow furrowing and the whole bit, "Maybe." He's got to take a moment to try to figure out if he really knows this man. "You ever in the service?"
Cerberus The two stop behind Bob speaking quietly in their language. the First looked to Bob. "Service?" He laughs. "Na man. No service for me." He smiled; more sneered and through a punch.
Bob Bobbing out of the way as the punch was thrown, Bob throws up his hands to protect himself from the blow. He's quick to retaliate, cutting loose with a pair of blows of his own aimed at his attacker, "Fucker."
Cerberus The Thug 1 dances back, grinning as he slips on brass knuckles. The Thug 3 backs up as Thug 2 steps up and successfully reaches his arms underneath Bob's arms to hold him steady; Thug 1 throws his fist yet again.
Bob Despite being grappled, Bob manages to avoid getting punched by throwing all of his weight to one side. Rocking back and forth he raises his foot, trying to bring it down on the instep of the guy holding him. Unfortunately, he's unsuccessful with the whole foot stomping thing.
Cerberus The miss angered the Thug 1 whom took another swing back and threw his weight into the punch; which soared past his head and into Thug 2. Brass Knuckles met face with a clear deafening crunch and the Thug loosens his grip then falls to the ground; completely knocked out. Thug 1 took a step back and growled.
Bob Finally, now that he's got his arms free, Bob can punch the son of a bitch that was trying to work him over. His fist collides with the Carribean guy's face with a hearty thwack! Feeling slightly better about himself Bob steps off to the side to try to keep an eye out for the other thug as well.
Cerberus Thug 1 stepped back, hand moving to his face as his nose broke. Meanwhile, quiet Thug 3 approached and swung a baseball bat at Bob; connecting.
Bob Bob takes a good whack to the center of his back, right over the spine. It looks painful, but Bob's probably been hit a few times before based on how fast he bounces back, fists up and swinging at the guy with the bat, "You pricks are going to bleed."
Cerberus Thug 3 moved to dodge the attack but ended up with the fist connecting with his jaw. He took a few steps back before taking a swing again. Thug 1 kept a hand on his nose as he shook Thug 2 awake "We should go." He mutters in English as Thug 2 stirred and slowly got to his knees.
Bob Luckily for him, Bob's pretty good at staying away from an ass kicking. Despite being somewhat slowed down by the crack across the back that he took, he's back in fine fighting form, dodging the next blow from the bat before darting in to slug the bat man again.
Cerberus Thug 2 stirs and falls back to the ground. "Fuck you." Thug 1 said to him before grabbing Thug 3 by the shoulder after taking another blow to the face. "Lets get going." Thug 1 told Thug 3. Dropping the bat, the pair run off down the street; in the distant the sound of sirens can be heard.
Bob While the first and third thug take off Bob moves to grab the second guy, first giving him a vicious kick to the side to make sure he stays prone. Then Bob's on top of him, pulling his hands together by the pinkies so he can maintain control over him while placing a knee in the center of his back and patting him down. "PITE sure dicked this one up, didn't they?" he asks.
Cerberus "I ain't talkin'." The Thug 2 said. "Well after that I ain't talkin'." A pause, frown. Nothing could be found on him; except his wallet with a few passports and ID's that were clearly fakes. "Get da fuck off." He shouted.
Bob "You don't need to talk now, buddy, you'll talk sooner or later," Bob responds, half of his mouth turning into a smirk as he tosses the thug's crap off to the side. He doesn't move from where he's kneeling, making sure he's in control of the situation.
Cerberus As Bob held the Thug there, the French Police finally showed up to take over the handling of the scene; gathering witness statements and information.
Bob When the cops show up Bob is more than happy to let them handle his attacker. He'll calmly show his FBC identification when it seems like he's prompted to and then lean against one of the alley walls. He's more than happy to cooperate, even requesting that the attacker be turned over to the FBC once the police have him in lock up.
Cerberus Taking in the information of witness statements, Bobs testimony and the evidence; the Police wrapped up the scene within thirty minutes. All clean like. The sergeant assured Bob that everything could be transferred over once proper papers were filled out and transfer authorization was requested. This, of course meant weeks of red tape. Within those weeks, the evidence disappeared; the Thug ended up hanging himself in his cell a week after being placed in. The only information one could get was islands in the Atlantic; The thug clearly came from the Caribbean region.