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     Jackson Snow's breath was heavy as he ran, bruised and battered, through the war torn street, fire and destroyed cars flying by him in his perefrial.
    "There he is!" a man shouted, and Jackson could hear the whiz of bullets fly by his head.
     Jackson ducked behind one of the incinerating vehicles, as he heard bullets hit the car with a repeated and distinct THUMP. He pulled a USP 45 out of his coat pocket, ready to fire on his attackers.
    How did I get here? He thought to himself.

       ~~~Three days earlier~~~

     "Dad! Look!"
     Sophie, Jackson's daughter, held up a drawing. It looked like crap, as most of hers did, but of course, he wasn't gonna say that.
    "I see honey!" He picked her up. "Listen, get your stuff together, and I'll drop you off at school, okay?"
    She sighed.
   "Alright, but we have to go get ice cream later, promise?"
   Jackson sighed, but nodded anyway.
   "Yes Sophie, we'll get ice cream later."

   As he dropped her off, he felt something odd about the day. He walked up to the front desk of the school, deciding to set the proper protocols in place, just to be safe.
     "Hey Kate?"
    The school receptionist looked up.
     "May I help you Mister Snow?"
      Jackson nodded.
    "Can you call me, and let me know about anything suspicious happening around the shool?"
    Kate nodded, and looked as if she was about to say something, but a phone ringing in the distance prevented her from doing so.
     Jackson just nodded, and let himself out, walking to his dull Mitsubishi, and wishing that he had brought his 76 Camero, but he would never dream of putting Sophie in that car.
     He drove off, back to his house to change cars. He walked into the house and grabbed his Glock 37, and his separate car keys, before stopping in front of the mirror, looking at himself.
    Jackson was rather tall, standing at about 6'0, and had the muscularity to match. He had black hair, which looked medium brown under certain lighting conditions, and had green eyes. He was clean shaven, thinking that it gave him a professional look, even though he was retired, even though he was only 26 years of age, even though-
     A buzz from his phone snapped him back, and he looked at it.

    Robert: Yo, what's taking so long? You coming or not?

      Jackson smiled, deciding not to reply. He'd be there soon enough as it was. With that, he holstered his 37, and got in his Camero, pulling out of the garage, and driving away.

    The bar was always fun with Robert and Thompson, his best friends, who happened to still be working. They sat at the bar, watching the Ravens go against the Panthers, when Jackson's phone rang. It was the school.
     He picked up.
     "Hello?"
      "Hi, Mr Snow? Your daughter was signed out of school by a man claiming to be her uncle."
     "WHAT? And you didn't try to stop him from leaving?"
     "Well, I didn't think I-"
    "BULLSHIT!"
     Jackson hung up the phone.
     "Sophie's been kidnapped, I'm going to find her. You coming?"
     They looked at him, before getting up, and quickly running to Jackson's car.