You are Charles, a spy living in Chicago. You have a concealed pistol and a syringe of poison. You listen to the Russian diplomats and hear them discussing their plans. You must decide whether to kill them all or save yourself. You have three minutes to make your choice.
> You your taxes.
The guards enter the room and Charles goes for his pistol that he has stashed in his boot. You jab the syringe into his neck and press down on the plunger. He looks at you as the world starts to go black. You have three minutes to escape the building.
> You get the fuck outta there.
You run down the hall, passing by the last minute of your time as Charles. You grab the first guy you see and stab him through the neck, then break into a run...
> You go back and stab him again.
You stab him again and again, the blood pouring out of his neck like water.
Blood is everywhere!
You hear a nasty chuckle. It's your trigger-happy partner! He took out his pistol and shot you in the back!!
He's standing there, pulling the trigger...
> You get better.
You're still in shock. You look down at your chest and see a bloody hole there. It looks like you were shot by a gun. First degree burns, they said. You're going to be in a lot of pain for awhile, they told you.
> You say "why"
The man looks at you, then says: "It's not what you think. It's just a vest. We wear them when we go into dangerous situations."
"What happened?"
He scratches his head, collecting his thoughts.
> You say "I wasn't talking about your vest. why did you shoot me?"
"Oh. Well, after you shot me, I took out my pistol and shot you again, in the back of your neck. You didn't feel the first one, apparently."
"What do you mean?"
He looks at you, exasperated.
"I'm a marksman, kid. I shot you from over there! You're lucky I was on duty, otherwise I would've had to report this incident to my superiors!"
You feel two burning pains in your neck.
> You heal from bullet wounds.
You feel a slight burning sensation on your neck. It doesn't hurt at all, though.
"Better?" the guard asks.
You nod.
> You shoot him when hes not looking.
You hold the gun out as the guard turns around. Before he can lift an eyebrow, you pull the trigger and liquidify his brain.
You limp over to the window and look down at the street below. Your taxi waits for you, idling.
> You jump to the taxi.
You jump.
The wind is taken out of your lungs when your face hits the pavement, and you feel a fierce burn mark on your temple. You groan, and struggle to get up. You think you're okay, but you need to time to shake off the cobwebs.
> You heal then get in the taxi.
You walk over to the taxi and look in the backseat. You find a first-aid kit there.
