[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://assets.ign.com/thumbs/2012/03/09/trejo_recoil_large.jpg[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard Private Airfield, Hangar 
[hr][hr][/center]

	Well, this was a horrible situation, all around. The safety of the hangar turned out to be something of a barrel, the likes of which one may reliably open fire within for the purposes of hitting fish. Now, this euphemism was generally thought of as a good thing. But being up front with said euphemism, one would generally assume that they were the guy holding the gun. Being the fish was the least preferable situation in the arrangement; sadly the situation that Cecily and Caesar found themselves in at that time. 

	Caesar had been in lockup before. Being the Fish was a bad thing. A very, very bad thing. 

	Well, the venerable Mexican was nobody's bitch. Er, fish. Yes, nobody's fish. If he was going down, he was going down swinging, doing whatever he could to keep his charge safe. Perhaps they might even be sated with his death, if he put up enough of a fight. Maybe it wasn't true in this culture, but in his eyes, there was a certain amount of respect given to a worthy adversary, even in the hour of their death. If that was the only chunk of currency he had left with these people, then by Dama Muerte herself and every one of his blood-soaked ancestors, he was going to pay that bill and tip with extreme prejudice. 

	Besides, if this was really his Alicia's office, there might be a surprise or two in there that he could use to his advantage. Only one way to find out. [color=orangered]"Niña! Put that bandana to your wound. Hold it hard, okay?"[/color] Adding a thought to the situation, he continued in a loud, clear voice, [color=orangered]"This was NOT the greeting my daughter Alicia told us to expect, damnit!"[/color] Hell, it was worth a shot. 

	Caesar tried the door to Alicia's office. Locked. Hopefully, not a secure door. He held his .45 inches from the lock, on an even lateral plane, and pulled the trigger once. Hopefully, it would be enough to remove the pin cylinder entirely, mostly because he didn't have a larger bullet to push through the countermeasure. A swift kick followed up, and if luck was with the pair, they would be within the office in short order. 

	[color=orangered]"Hold on, niña. Even if we don't get out, I promise they'll pay for every inch of ground with blood. We will make our people proud."[/color] Just for the hell of it, Caesar began recording their surroundings with his satellite phone, uploading to the company cloud in real time, open access. [color=orangered]"Queensguard, private airfield, Justice, California."[/color] Caesar checked his weapons, and cracked his neck. He'd be damned if he went gentle. Valhalla, Land of the Remembered, Elysium; even Hell itself would simultaneously open their gates to him and fear their approach. [color=orangered]"Cecily Ashworth and Caesar Gonzalez, pinned down by gunfire under routine investigation, in the manager's office of Alicia Gonzalez. Continue your investigation here. And light a candle for the fuckers we're taking down with us. They died well. I made sure of it."[/color]