Pirandello/Kruger's Story

As Stephen seemed to casually walk through the streets of the Nashtons, a single black and white crown victoria sat adjacent and across the street.

The phone being tossed aside seemed to provoke a response from the lone police car.

Littering

The pair of Pirandello/Kruger Officers started the car as Bachmann walked down the sidewalk. The Crown Victoria's engines roared to life. Placing the car into gear, the Officer driving the car slowly pulled across the street, bringing the bright blue-white HID Spotlight to bear on the lone Jew, and with a chirp of the siren, the car drove up and came to a stop.

"Hey! You there!" The Officer shouted, rolling down the window and opening the door. "I need to talk to you for a moment." The Officer added.

Though the PKs weren't really Police officers, they had been contracted with the city, and thus exercised all the power to enforce the laws of the city and the wider province through a special commissioning.

The black and white car was different from the blue and white veneer of the VLPD. And with the stylized pit bull on the door, it was clear these weren't real Police.

As the pair of Officers got up, the one in the drivers seat cleared his throat. "How you doing tonight? You have some ID On you?" He asked.

"I'm busy." Stephen said to the lawmen, keeping his eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead of him as he moved. "Looking for a place that sells food Kosher." He said, stopping a little ways away from the PK vehivle before turning to address the men again.

"I'd like to get my shopping done before it gets too dark and I miss my shows." The Jewish-American man added, "You know what that's like, right? Waiting all week for that program and hoping you don't miss it? We all need that escape from our realities."

Bachmann's words came out fluid, he was a professional after all. He wouldn't be called upon if he didn't know what he was doing.

The PK officer nodded in understanding. "I'm Officer Timmons, and this is Officer Johnson with Pirandello/Kruger Security. And I promise, this isn't going to take very long, you have some identification?" He said, getting out and approaching the man, the officer didn't make any overtly hostile moves, stopping to stand roughly four feet away and in the interview stance. One hand on his belt, the other resting non threateningly on his weapon.

The Second officer made a wide loop around the scene, coming to stand just adjacent to both men. Keeping his eye on Backmann in the event he decided he was going to fight or run from the officers.

"Where you coming from tonight?" He said, gesturing the man over closer to the patrol car.

"And you said you're shopping? Where at?" He asked, though he was snooping for questions, both officers seemed rather professional for an Aschen Private security firm.

"It's not every day someone decides to toss their phone in the middle of the street."

"Not every phone is a piece of shit." Bachmann responded, staying in place. Legally nothing could happen to him. Van Leugen may not have been the best place because of the crime, but it wasn't a facist place. Not unless you were part of one of those anti-conformist internet groups.

"I'm coming from home." The Jewish man, "Well, it's where I'm staying with a friend." Bachmann added, using his middle finger to readjust his glasses.

"I'm not sure where I'm shopping. I'm looking for somewhere that sells Kosher food. I'm assuming that this city doesn't have a big Jewish population, yes?" Bachmann asked, narrowing his eyes at the lawmen. "This isn't a racial thing, is it? This stop?" He asked.

Timmons looked somewhat sidelong to his partner, and then he turned back to Bachmann.

"Littering is littering. Just toss it in the trash if you're so eager to ditch the phone." He said, as Johnson moved closer a few steps.

"It's about as racial as two Aschen stopping a Terran can be." The Officer remarked. "I don't think your religious motivations play into this stop, so whatever preconceptions you have would be incorrect." He said, shifting his stance. "However, your flagrant disregard for city ordinances do figure into this stop. Now, do you have some identification? I'm not going to ask you again before I am forced to place you under arrest for failure to comply with a lawful order." The Officer said flatly.

"Three-Xray Eleven to Central, I'm going to be ten-seventy eight at this time, have Three Xray fifteen twenty five with me at this location. Possible ten ninety nine." The Officer called into his radio, the Dispatcher chiming.

"Ten-Four Three-Xray Eleven, Three Xray Fifteen did you copy traffic?" A male voice then sounded off. "Ten four, En route with Fifty one ninety three VLPD."

"I think you chose a bad example of what this is like." Bachmann said, digging into his pants pocket. "I haven't been here long, but I was around to see how the Aschen treat the Terrans. It's very Soviet." The Jewish man said, slipping his ID from his pocket.

"My family left Germany after the war, so they mostly avoided the Soviets killing the men and raping the women."Bachmann said as he handed over his ID, "So, you have to understand why that example is bad. Historically and personally. It reminds me of things."

Once the ID was handed off, the first Officer passed it off to the second, who swiped the ID in a scanner to check for warrants through both the TNG and Imperial Databases. Of course the man likely came back clean without any connections to any crimes.

"You have to enforce the small laws to better enforce the big ones." He said, as the second officer printed off a slip of paper.

"Here's your citation for littering, I'll need your signature at the bottom, it's not a plea of guilt just a promise to appear." He said, handing Bachmann the paper and a pen.

"Once you sign the Citation, you'll get your copy and you'll be free to go."

"Yeah, yeah." Bachmann said, taking the paper and pen. "Aren't there real crimes going on?" He asked, signing the paper and then handing it back to the lawman.

"I'll be on my way now." The man said, turning to wak away. He didn't move just yet, but it was clear he was ready to go back to his seemingly futile quest for a Kosher food spot.

"If that's okay with you?"

Van Leugen was known as the city of Liars, a crime infested cesspit that had a reputation that stretched far and wide across Terra.

That reputation had slowly began to lose it's foundations.

As Red Rain, Batman and the Vengeant moved into the city; they wouldn't be greeted by the tall dilapidated buildings that dotted the city, nor would they be greeted by crime infested streets.

Many of the old buildings were in the process of being torn down, and towering scaffolding and the construction of gleaming skyscrapers replaced the stone and masonry facade of buildings that had succumbed to the test of time.

One thing would seem to stick out though. The ever present, and obscenely pervasive police presence, and the presence of a private security firm known as Pirandello/Kruger, whose Aschen made patrol cars, and clearly Aschen patrol officers dotted the streets and the sidewalks, along with newly installed cameras in nearly every intersection, and police Kiosks.

As the Red Rain men pulled up to the Hotel, they were greeted by a single Pirandello/Kruger Patrolman standing guard at the front door of the Hotel, it seemed these goons were stationed at nearly every hotel, patrolling the streets of the city, and checking doors on businesses. He paid the men no mind, but his presence had been made clear without so much as a single word.

Having barely nursed his drink, the Detective quietly watched as the Yakuza boss moved from the VIP area and into the bathroom. He made a brief face before he turned slightly to get a better look. Perhaps it was nothing, so the detective was about to dismiss the notion.

He was about to dismiss it until the man he had been watching, and another unidentified male spewed fourth from the bathroom.

They were in the throes of a brawl.

"1247 to Dispatch, I need all available units to Pompeii club for a fight in progress." He called out into his earpiece.

"Ten-4, Additional units en-route."

The Detective thenmade a face before he quickly got up from his seat. In the sea of people trying to get a good look, record, or whatever the had tried to do made it nearly impossible for the Detective to gain any purchase, but he pushed his way through the crowd of people, bobbing and weaving through the circle until he reached the pair that was fighting.

"Both of you break it up and put your hands in the air now!"

The gun had come out, swung broadly and present forward, bearing aim at the two, first Machida and then Bachmann. Hoping to get them to stop.


"Alright you two, let's make this nice and easy, any sudden moves and I'll shoot."

It was literally a minute or two until the doors to the club opened up, four Pirandello/Kruger Operatives moving through the crowd, likely with more on the way.

No thanks to Van Leugen's pervasive police and private security presence.

"Gun!" Someone in the crowd shouted, people scrambling in all different directions away from the weapon. It wasn't clear which one. The one held by the cop or the one held by the vigilante. At that point it didn't matter to the club's patrons, no one wanted to get shot tonight. Or any night.

Any clear shots anyone had on the two men would disappear withe the crowds in a panic, Jackson's Yakuza cohorts trying to push through the crowds to find and assist their leader before things really got out of hand.

Jackson and Bachmann were gripping each other's suits, not wanting to let go and give the other the chance to escape or get in a cheap shot."I can't!" Jackson shouted to the detective. "I can't." He repeated, brown eyes focused on Bachmann and only Bachmann. To Jackson that face was the face of his internal demons.

There was no letting him live. There was no learning to forgive and sparing his life. It was now ortwenty years from now. Jackson intended to die in the nightclub if it meant Bachmann was going to die with him.

"Let it go." One of the Yakuza said to Jackson, approaching from Cole's left flank. This Yakuza was one of the few who didn't appear to be Asian. He was Hispanic as far as appearances with.

The Yakuza serving as the voice of reason for Jackson looked to Cole, hands up and waiting for his blessing to proceed with breaking up the fight. No one wanted things to get messy. Not now.

"This is the guy here!" A familiar voice rang out behind Thanos. The voice of the bouncer he knocked out. Only this time he wasn't alone. He had come with more security and some men who were clearly part of a priviate criminal enterprise based out of Van Leugen and possibly the club itself.

The men had their hands on guns, some of the security breaking off to assist withe the fight. If they could stop that they'd have more manpower for the beating they had planned out back for Thanos before they'd turn him over to the police.

If he lived.

Shit. The heat arrived.

A police officer had his gun trained on the brawlers on the dance floor. Jackie was torn between finishing the fight and avoiding prison. One of his men talked him down, and he allowed the officer to break up the fight. None of the Yakuza nor the officer seemed to notice him, but the club was in an uproar nonetheless because they knew at least one of the individuals in this circle had a gun.

No one seemed to be paying any attention to Thanos. He could take the shot at Jackie and hit him from here, walk out with no one being any the wiser. Or at least, that's what he would've liked.

"This is the guy here!"

The Vengeant turned to see a group of bouncers staring him down. The one in the middle had met the vigilante's hand as it sandwiched his face into the wall outside, his face marred by the hard material that composed the structure. He looked pissed, rightfully so, as if he were three seconds from tearing Thanos limb from limb. His friends were backing him, ready to pounce on the gunman if he attempted anything.

Thanos holstered his gun, unsmiling, holding his other hand up as he found the space for his firearm. "Let's not do anything we'll regret, fellas," he said. This prompted a sneer from the scarred bouncer. "Not likely pal. We're gonna fuck you up and leave you in a gutter. You're fucking dead meat guy! Dead-fucking-me-"

He was cut off once again as a metallic canister hit the floor. Thanos had already turned away from the scene, his ears plugged. "Flashbang!" the bouncer yelled to his buddies all too late. A loud rumble shook the immediate area, with a blinding flash filling the air.

Anyone caught within the vicinity of the explosive would be injured, but that wasn't his concern; in a place like this it hardly mattered anyhow. Nearly everyone in here was scum. However, the grenade served its purpose by disorienting everyone Thanos needed to be out of his way. He didn't have time to finish Jackie, he had to vacate the area. As luck would have it, he saw his gateway, easily visible in the back.

Sprinting for the back door, Thanos burst through the rear exit, booking for his car. In the driver's seat, he started up the car, ready to tear out of there.

His plans, however, were cut short as a large, muscular elbow came through the window. A pair of large hands ripped him from his seat and tossed him to the pavement. It was his "friend" from the front door. Somehow, the bouncer had made it through the cataclysm going on inside, avoided Thanos' flashbang and followed him out here.

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Dead."

Maybe Thanos' luck wasn't so great after all.

It wasn't much longer before the four Pirandello/Kruger security officers finally made their way through the crowds, shortly before the Bouncers went after Thanos and the Flash-Bang was dropped.

One of the PK officers approached Jackson, before moving in to grab him by the arm, with the second PK officer moving towards Bachmann. They would either be pulled from each-other by the PKs or stop on their own accord.

A third PK Officer heard the clank of the grenade, and then the bouncer's screams as it went off. The one closest to the Flash-Bang had been disoriented, and Cole could hear his ears ringing.

"Deal with these two." He said to the two Officers.

Quickly regaining their composure, both Officers attempted to restrain Jackson and Bachmann. Cole would question them later, and for now, both of them would be held on Disorderly Conduct, a simple easy to bond out charge, assuming they complied with the officers as they attempted to handcuff them.

"You, with me!" He shouted to the fourth, who racked his Plasma rifle and nodded in affirmation as Cole moved towards the door after Thanos, with the Pirandello/Kruger officer in tow.

As Thanos and the Bouncer exchanged their own blows, Cole came careening out from the back exit with his gun drawn.

"Police department hands up both of you, now!" Cole barked with his gun drawn as the single Pirandello/Kruger moved up behind him, his own weapon aimed as he called on the radio.

"Three-Xray Twenty, requesting additional units and a wagon, Pompeii Nightclub, Code three."

Cole narrowed his eyes and waited for both the Bouncer and Thanos to comply. As the Bouncer sneered at Thanos, he stared at Cole and reached for a gun holstered a his hip.

Two deafening pops followed, followed by three audible, high pitched cracks, and three blinding flashes of blue. The Bouncer would be sent careening back, smoldering holes in his chest, along with two regular gunshot wounds.

Both guns went to Thanos.

"On the ground! Now! Hands out to your sides!" Cole ordered.

Bachmann smirked at Stephen as he was pulled away from the other man, he didn't really enjoy being in the middle of the chaos in public places if he could help it. But, the fact that he could post bail and jump town before Jackson ever had a chance of seeing his face again was amusing.

It was a game of cat and mouse as far as Bachmann was concerned.

"Who brings a flashbang to a nightclub?" One of the Yakuza asked, his comrades shrugging. "We'll post bail when we get the chance." Another called out to Jackson as he was cuffed.

Jackson himself was silent, gaze rested on Bachmann and Bachmann alone as he was hauled away from the scene. Jackson's ears ringing from the flashbang, but that was nothing to him. The idea of letting Bachmann walk was eating him alive.

He had to do something about the man when he made bail, make some friends or call in some favors from friends he already had.

In the struggle that ensued outside, Thanos had found himself punched in the face more times than he would have liked. The bouncer was a big guy, and taking the vigilante by surprise was admittedly a very effective use of his size. But, before Thanos could have any fun with the guy, the heat showed up. The bouncer, apparently in a moment of stupor, decided it would be in his best interest to reach for the gun on his hip to try and smoke a cop and a PK agent.

In the time it took them to gun the bouncer down and address the Vengeant with shouts, his quickly-surmised plan was already in motion. From his chest he managed to produce a pulse grenade; a very dangerous device that emitted a high-voltage electrical shock that, when detonated, sent a flux of deadly electricity within a fifteen-meter radius.

And this one was specially designed with a dead man's switch; meaning, if Thanos' thumb came off the trigger on top, they'd all be as good as roasted Thanksgiving dinner, and gunning a man down was a very effective way to make him lose his grip.

With his hands in the air, one clutching the electrical instrument of destruction, the vigilante smirked. "Alright then, boys. What I've got here is a very nasty device that will kill us all if my thumb comes off of this button. Now, here's what you're going to do: you're going to put your guns down -all of them- and walk away, and we can pretend, for the moment, that tonight I wasn't here. After you've gone, I'll get in my car and drive off. You can send some cars after me if you really want to, but it won't do you any good."

The air was tense. He could practically feel the itch on the officer's trigger finger. During his time in Van Leugen, he'd gotten a good scope of the police around here, and their weapons and tactics. This guy was quite apparently former military, as well as his PK friend standing next to him. But then again, so was he, so that didn't necessarily change things out of his favor; it just meant he'd have to move faster than usual, which he could do.

"How's it gonna be, boys?"

Both of the Gangsters had been escorted out of the Nightclub by the time Cole managed to get a bead on the Vengeant.

He was practically tunneling in on the guy, staring down the sights of his Seburo M-5.

"Now see, it's not going to play out like that." Cole said, squeezing his pistol. He was contemplating his options, running various scenarios through his head. That Pulse grenade was going to be a problem, but the Detective simply couldn't let the vigilante go.

"Three Xray Twenty, send in a tactical team and Crisis response code three, Behind Pompeii nightclub." The Officer continued, while Cole swallowed.

"Here's what's going to happen. Put down the grenade and no one gets hurt, come quietly and maybe the DA will let you off easy. We just have you on possession and disorderly conduct, no need to add more charges to the list." Cole said calmly.

"Just come nice and quietly, we'll have you out of jail by morning." Cole pleaded, or rather seemed to plead.

In reality things were just starting to stack up, with additional units on the way. It seemed to be heating up as well.

"1247, Pirandello/Kruger reports tactical and crisis response units en-route, they'll be there in five minutes."

"You're not going to walk away from this, Sir." Cole added.

----

Outside the front of the club, the Bouncers were being interviewed as the situation was starting to come under control, with Jackson and Bachmann placed in separate patrol units, they would both be taken back to the Station so that Cole could question each one, before putting them on ice for the night. However it seemed the poor detective was at the moment pre-occupied.

Jackson was the first to be interviewed, with a PK officer standing just adjacent to him, he would be allowed to either sit on the curb or lean against the patrol car.

"So, mind telling me what that was all about?" The Officer asked.

Bachmann was subject to similar lines of questioning, separated from Jackson.

"Cultural differences." Jackson answered as he sat on the curb, "There really isn't a need for the handcuffs, but I imagine the reputation of this city makes you cautious." He continued, watching as the club's patrons and staff piled out. Some probably intending to head out to yet another nightclub. No use letting a fight ruin their nights.

"It was just a little scuffle. It's not a big deal." Jackson said.

Bachmann seemed to have the same story, or lack of story that neatly stonewalled the officers or at least kept the real reason for the fight from being thrown out into the open. The real reason they fought would lead to more than a slap on the wirst, a fine, and maybe probation.

"We bumped into each other, said some things and then we came to blows." Bachmann told the officer, "I admit, we could have been much more mature. Heat of the moment. You understand." He continued.

He was backed against a wall. In a few minutes, he'd be surrounded by cops all aiming to put bullets in every extremity he possessed. The logical thing to do would be to give it up and have them take him in. However, he wasn't a fan of prison and fake pleading deals that really just translated to doing time. There was no way he'd walk out of this situation without a hefty prison sentence, given the reputation of the justice system around here.

However, before he could even think of a way out, he found his hand was smashed with a canister that encased his fist in ice, enclosing the bomb with it. From the darkness, two more of the same canisters flew towards the officers' weapons. Thanos, however, was ripped from the scene by a steel cable, pulled up onto the roof of the building behind him, and thrown onto it.

Looking down at him was a shadowy apparition, a phantom draped in the abyss sauntering towards the vigilante. Of course, the Vengeant knew exactly who this mysterious figure was. "I've been expecting you," he said to the silent shadow. Of course, no response. He was hauled off the ground, his feet dangling mere inches above the rooftop he now found himself on as the Batman held the gunman in an iron grip. "What took you so long?" the Vengeant remarked with a mischievous grin.

"What are you doing here, Greeley?" the Dark Knight demanded. Thanos didn't now whether or not he should be surprised. After all, here was the greatest detective in existence, right before his eyes, and yet the Vengeant made it a point that no one ever knew who he was. "You're the detective, you figure it out."

That got the vigilante a very, very powerful punch to the gut. He reeled, dropping to his knees. This guy, whoever he was, was strong. "You were in Wing City. Why go out of your way to follow Machida and his crew?" Gathering his breath, the Vengeant looked up at the Dark Knight, still smiling. Very uncharacteristic of him to smile so much.

"Crime knows no borders, and neither do I. I followed him here to axe him and his friends. After I'm done with that, I'll move on to some of the other criminals around here, head back to Wing City when they're dead." Batman looked down at Thanos, a scowl formed across his face.
"I don't think so."
"Oh, but I do."

His hand crashed onto the floor beneath them, smashing the ice that had enveloped his hand. It was red and blistered from the freezing substance, but he retained his grip on the bomb. "We both know it's a fake, Greeley. You wouldn't risk the lives of all those people down there. That's not you."

Shit. "You're right." In a flash, the Dark Knight was hit in the face with a hard, metal orb and doused in a cloud of smoke. A few coughs and a moment of blindness before he activated his thermal vision. Thanos was coming through the smoke, his arm raised for a straight punch. His fist was caught in the rough grip behind the screen of grey smoke, feeling a push that sought to repel his attack.

Batman drove his forehead into the Vengeant's face, a hard thud and bloody nose painting the results. This served to anger Thanos, who came after Batman with a precise series of strikes and kicks. He was good, possibly one of the best fighters Batman had fought in a long while. The Dark Knight had to admit that keeping up with Thanos was no cakewalk. He was powerful, and strategic. He also had the advantage of being willing to kill if he had to, lacking the same restraint Batman placed on himself.

A right cross led to a spinning left elbow, both of which Batman blocked. He retaliated with a jumping kick, which Thanos was able to deflect, causing Batman to land awkwardly, affording the Vengeant three punches to the head before his hand was caught and he was pulled into a driving knee to the sternum. Thanos planted a foot down toward his combatant's upper knee, causing the Dark Knight to step back and catch a punch to the face. Batman backed away his lip bloody and his breathing heavy.

Then the gun was out. Thanos produce his pistol once more, firing repeatedly trying to hit the man opposite him. Diving and crouching behind cover, Batman fished for a Batarang, popping out only once the gunfire subsided to hurl the hefty device at the gunman's hand, knocking the weapon away. Thanos dove for the weapon in order to retrieve it, but it was whisked away with the Batclaw. In Batman's grip, the gun was dismantled and tossed aside, as if it were a toy.

"Well, you're better than I could have expected." Silence pervaded, washing over them as a wave of heated tension. "Shall we continue?" he asked.

The Pirandello Kruger officer that had been interviewing Jackson and Bachmann nodded and took some notes, before he turned to one of the other officers.

"Two of you can cool your heels in jail for the night." He said calmly before signalling the pair to be taken into the backs of their respective patrol cars, where they would be taken to the Van Leugen City Jail, where Cole could question them more later.

In the Alleyway, it was a matter of buying time before Pirandello/Kruger's Crisis response team arrived. With Cole's weapon aimed to bear, he would catch a glint, and then Thanos's hand encased in ice, followed by the PK's rifle, with the cold causing the Aschen weapon to almost immediately malfunction.

Cole had managed to avoid the canister intended for his weapon, by sharply pulling it down and watching the canister hit the floor, encasing it in ice before Thanos was lifted up onto the rooftop via a steel cable.

"God damnit." Cole muttered, before he turned to the PK, who was trying to get ice off his weapon.

"Find out where those canisters came from! Get someone up on that rooftop!" Cole ordered, before he moved quickly towards a flight of emergency steps.

It was then a large Pirandello/Kruger Van pulled up, with Tactical officers moving quickly to surround the building Batman and Thanos were on top of, eventually Helicopters would arrive, but a single Cikavac UAV was already floating above the city, providing wide-spectrum video feeds of the city below, including the two signatures on top of the building behind Pompeii.

After the Tactical team had disembarked the van to take up positions around the building, a single figure emerged in a glossy black Aschen T-65 combat skin. With the UAV uplinked to his HUD, finding the two signatures would be a simple task. He looked up and frowned, kicking on the suit's anti-gravity system he leaped up onto the rooftop.

Landing with an audible thud, the figure, whose face was completely obscured by the glossy visor of the Combat skin stood slowly for a moment, and then started to approach.

"Unidentified Individuals, you are under arrest, surrender or be terminated. Deadly force will be used." The figure said in a distorted voice, while a Disruptor RCW powered up in his right gauntlet.

"Do not resist, surrender."

The arrival of the PK thug was an interesting turn of events to say the least. Batman and the Vengeant found themselves staring at an elite warrior trained, clad in high-tech armor that served as one of the greater representations of Aschen technology. To say it was impressive was an understatement; the T-65 combat skin was outfitted with very advanced tactical software, and was loaded down with a sturdy outer armor that protected against a plethora of attacks. It was almost intimidating.

Almost.

Ever since the incident on Main Street in Wing City, the Batman had been careful to do his research on the Aschen and their technology. This combat skin was no exception; the beauty of this moment was that the T-65 had a subtle, yet critical weakness that he intended to exploit. But he'd need help.

"Shoot at him," Batman said suddenly.
"Excuse me?"
"We've only got a few crucial moments. I need your help if we're gonna get out of this alive. Shoot at him!"
Thanos merely shrugged, producing a second Cervantes .33 from beneath his jacket and firing at the PK grunt while running for cover, the bullets merely bouncing off of the T-65's surface. Simultaneously, Batman dove behind a ventilation duct, accessing the datapad on his wrist. Decrypting the radio frequency in that suit would take a few moments, but he counted on the PK officer's response to attack to be to try and gun down Thanos as quickly as possible. As long as the Vengeant remained out of the crosshairs, he'd be alright.

Thanos ran between cover points, careful to dodge any attack that would come his way. He opened fire whenever he could, his bullets doing jack shit to stop the PK officer. "Hope you know what you're doing, jackass!" he called out to the Batman.
"Let's hope I do!" he answered. He'd managed to find the frequency in which to contact the PK officer's headset.

Through there, he was able to send a looped 140 decibel electronic whine. Should his plan work, they'd be able to escape the PK officer as he struggled with the crippling pain of the sound reverberating in his headset.