CS:
Spoiler
Name: George Hayes
Age: 32
Occupation: SWAT
Personality: Sarcastic. Cocky. Stubborn. He is the type of guy that exaggerates stories, “it wasn't just one guy, it was five and they all came up behind with hammers and shotguns, but luckily...”. He's never afraid of a confrontation and is usually the one to start it, he will always make a joke of the situation, even if it's a funeral. He's stubborn, he won't let go of something once he wants it and getting him to see your side will be very hard if you don't have a silver tongue.
Traits: Blunt and straightforward, not easily offended, hates smoking.
Height: 6'7
Weight: 250Ilbs
Appearance: George is a man made mountain, with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. He has short flame-red hair and magnificent handlebar mustache of the same shade. He is almost always smiling as shown from the creases in his face and his eyes are a bright green. His hand are about the same size and shape of spades, a scar runs up his left hand from ricochet. His complexion is a tanned one from spending hours outside and he has a a couple of scars across his torso.
Apparel: He wears his regulation LVPD SWAT outfit...A blue, long sleeve shirt with a tactical vest over top, reading Police across the chest and SWAT across the back. A matching blue cap completes the outfit.
Misc: SIG P210, 2x Clips of ammunition, the Bible
Nationality: Irish
Brief Bio: Was born in northern Montana, a farm boy. He spent most of his time on a ranch with his father after his mother drowned in a nearby lake. George and his father were always close and they formed a strong bond through activities like fishing, hunting, and horseback riding. George attended the local public school which was about fifteen miles, right next to town square. They didn't have the best supplies or top of the line equipment, but the children(mostly boys) learned what they needed from their fathers and mother since most never strayed far from home.
Unfortunately his father developed lung cancer and when he passed away, George could no longer run the ranch by himself and sold it. With no where to turn and no relatives to go to, George decided to enlist in the armed forces, which he hated. The war or wars had not really begun yet, anchorage was a far off thing, yet all was not calm and there was plenty of action. After seeing one of his friends killed by a landmine and another by a child with a frag grenade, George was glad when his tour was finished.
However, he was still unsure on what to do. He was thinking about going back home, but the country life no longer appealed to him, it moved to slow and was closed to the outside world. Instead he used the skills he knew and took the exam to make it into the Special Weapons and Tactics division of the Las Vegas Police Department.
He spent the last decade or two of his life in Vegas and has grown fond of it's warm streets and lights, it's druggies and hokers. Fortunes could be made or lost in an instant and it was in constant motion, a stark contrast to the country life. He loved it and his dream of returning home, he realized, was no longer a dream just a distance wish in the past.
Starting Point: The Strip( Controlling Riot )
George Hayes-The Strip-The world is ending, just like in Revelations Besides the fact that I was trying an impossible mission, the world had just flipped over on it's side, and the police station had apparently been bombed, I still wanted to lean over to my partner and whisper:
“Told you so.”
My partner, Steven, a proud atheist just looked at me with the “what the hell are you talking about” look. Before turning his attention back to the angry mob that we were trying to control. It was impossible though the amount of people to police was just too much, their was plenty of gaps. Tear gas and stun grenades did no good, just too many people.
And all honesty, they had a right to be angry, the U.S of A was just nuked after all and even some of the police officers were out in the streets protesting. But me and Steven were determined to keep the peace, or at least try to.
I was crouched behind my riot shield, but it hardly was able to protect my mass. That was okay though , it also gave second thoughts to attacking me. Though that wasn't going to last long, one of my squad mates had just received a couple pot shots, he open with a few shots from his sub machine gun.
“You dumb ass,” I shouted.
They were just civilians, they were pissed, yes, but not at us. Now they were.
A saw man run up from the crowd with something lit in his hands, I was already moving as my brain made the connection, I shouted but there was no need, they saw it too.
“Molotov!”
Steven shot the man with two shots in the chest, he went down gurgling in his own blood, but it was too late, it flipped through the air and broke at the bottom of the steps, right behind us. The officer that had fired first was immediately caught in the blaze, Steven only got a small bit of the splash, but it was enough.
The fire licked at his limbs and, climbing up his torso, he went down screaming. Our uniforms were not flame retardant.
“NO!”
The mob was able to surge forward now and the rest of the officer were forced to scatter, The Tops would have to defend itself now. I pushed through the crowd, parting the people like water, if anybody stood in my way too long I knocked them down. They didn't seem to care, it was mob mentality and they were focusing on The Tops
I found Steven laying on the ground, some of his clothes had melted to his skin. He was covered in burns and his hair was all gone, but he was still alive. I was ecstatic, I did not want to loose my partner of ten years. True there was other squad mates, but Steven and I were closest.
I picked him up gently and laid him over my shoulder. First I had to go to one of police cruisers and get the first aid supplies, then find a hospital. The Med-X and Stimpacks would keep him alive for a while, but he needed advanced medical attention, like a new set of lungs.
I did not bother to take the police cruiser, the streets were crowded, and the mob was likely to target them, I had no clue where the SWAT van had gone too. As I was running without trying to jostle Steven too much, I noticed that law and order were gone now and that uniform made me sort of a target.
A man ran up to me with a switchblade, screaming like a banshee, a grabbed his hand and squeezed. There were numerous popping and crunching sounds and he fell down grasping his mangled hand and crying. After that, people seemed to steer away for a while, but I knew it wouldn't last.
For one, I had a gun. That alone was attractive enough and I had an injured man on my shoulder, it marked me as a vulnerable. I knew I wouldn't be able to get to the hospital with Steven on my shoulders, I would need somewhere safe.
A small apartment building caught my view,
Perfect.
No one would want to loot a small apartment building, as I approached it, I saw a man shouting and trying to beat in a window. The security door had been rolled down apparently, as I walked up next to him, he fired off two shots, the window shattered, though there was still large chunks.
"Hey, the names George, you want in to huh?"
He looked like a trained solider and I found it easy to trust him.
"If you don't mind, I'll go in first and check it out."
First I put Steven through the window and then I squeezed in, I was barely able to fit through the window and I cut myself on the glass, but I was through. I checked out the are, the SIG held in front of me, the bottom floor seemed to be goo.
"All clear,"
I moved upstairs to find a barricade made of just pile furnited and assorted junk.
"Hey! Is anybody there! We've got injured, we don't need supplies, but we need somewhere safe."
My voice was deep and booming, echoing of the walls. Steven moaned and I was actually beginning to worry that he might die.
"But don't worry about it, it's just death, I'm sure he'll get better."
» Sat May 28, 2011 12:08 pm 
