[Center][h2][color=fdc68a]ALCOHOL[/color][/h2][/center]

Plaza. Another straw to layer onto the already structually compromised camels back. And now, First was dead. A cop, one of the people meant to protect this city all because Alcohol let this big guy from Plaza into town. Al stood. [color=fdc68a]"Get two units to go to the armory at the station. You need to lead me to this fucker."[/color] As he spoke, the mayor knelt down and pulled up a loose floorboard. Nestled in the a hole in the dirt was a footlocker. Unlocked, he flipped bent and rusted pre-war container open and inside was one of the most high-quality shotguns in town. Alcohol could most certainly handle himself in a gun fight, and this pump-action beauty was durable and well-maintained over the years. 

Nickles most likely had an improvised handgun or rifle. The mayor followed the guard into the streets, where they quickly and effeciently navigated toward the scene of the incident. People would recognize a situation was developing when the mayor had his shotgun out. This was no ordinary arrest. This person was an ambassador of sorts. This was more of a diplomatic incident than anything. If he was to be honest, First in particular would not be missed, but he imagined it could have been anyone. Murder like this could not stand, obviously, but there were greater implications. Al had to handle this situation carefully. 

They cut through a narrow alleyway and the two men burst onto the scene. Several other guards were arriving, all of them armed with an improvised firearm. Still, bullets were bullets. Most of the road was empty, with a few people mordibly watching from behind cover as the man from Plaza had begun tearing into the flesh of First with a broken bottle.

[color=fdc68a]"That's enough!"[/color] Alcohol shouted, leveling his shotgun at the man. As they had trained, a guard or two would circle behind Pepsi, most likely climbing to a rooftop. One of the guards would try to get ontop of the building Pepsi and First had been in earlier, for sure.

[color=fdc68a]"Toss that bottle to the side, get your hands in the air, and on your knees to the dirt." [/color]Alcohol declared, his voice loud but steady. His finger was behind the trigger of the shotgun, the ironsights lining up with Pepsi's wide center of mass.

[color=fdc68a]"Don't test me, boy."[/color] He concluded firmly, narrowing his eyes. The mayor took a few steps forward, beginning him and his guards slow approach to try and take the outsider alive.