"Pyrrhic city police department. Step out of the bus with your arms up!" A commanding voice shot from the megaphone. A man with graying hair and a well kept beard barked the order. He seemed to be the one in charge, as he donned the trademark hat, with the crest of his outfit. "If you act peacefully, the situation will be much easier for you." He was calm in his words, apparently confident that the situation would go his way, however that was. 

"Uh..." The nervous man looked at the woman with red hair. He didn't seem to have any answers at the top of his head. He placed a hand over his neck as to cover the mark, but after a millisecond, took his arms back up, pointing the weapon directly at the coroner. "Don't say a d-damn thing..." a slight shake to his tone, but there was a very real danger to his words. A second voice off to his side asking more questions, and the nervous man's expression faltered back to it's less than threatening one once more. "C-coroner?" 

A bullet breached the ceiling. The man who seemed to be the leaders of the bus-napper, was holding the pistol high above his head. "Pyrrhic city police department. If you do not move, we are not afraid to drive right on through you. A bus is a hell of a lot heavier than your cars. And trying to  shoot us may hurt one of our civilian friends here no?" A silence loomed in the air. 

Just as the leader was to once again speak, a hissing sound filled the metal compartment. A black sort of wispy gas was flowing through the windows. The armed men trained their weapons at what appeared to be nothing. "Police chief." The leader yelled out once more. "You've wasted our time too long." A loud and heavy sound echoed through the vehicle, a scream followed and in an instant, the black gas was too thick to see through. A few gunshots could be heard coming from outside, confused shuffling followed. Then it was done. Whatever event had just transpired, was over in seconds. Men were on the floor, pale as pale could be. Their weapons lying next to them, the criminals, were done. The marks, had noticeably left their necks, and if one were to investigate, their pulses, would have too left the men. If one were to look at themselves instead though, they would fine a memorable symbol, located on their own necks. 

A man in a suit, with slicked hair, and a fixated grin, leaned against the back of the bus. Wisps of black smoke retreating up through his sleeve. "Not this time either eh..."