Rupert regarded them curiously, seemingly unconcerned with the weapons aimed his way. Though he evidently had the good sense to raise his hands to show he was unarmed and complying. The Beak's Men were always a nuisance, two hundred years ago up to the new millennium. These ones thought they knew something others didn't, even beyond the norm. Blood useless, Rupert thought. 

"Thanks for giving me a chance. Guess I'll dance." He replied, inclining his head and stepping back to indicate he was leaving. Of course, he meant the other colloquial meaning for dance, and as the two Precinct officers began to relax, a light beamed down from the heavens, hitting Rupert as if the illumination had a physical weight to it. The police cursed and open fired. Kelley Ashler winced, shielding her eyes from the light and bullets. 

Out of the fading maelstrom of light erupted an armored form, charging the officers like a bullet train. The figure, clad in mythic steel, weathered the two shots that rang out before he reached their position with no sign of injury. He punched the leading officer in the face, crushing his skull, blood and bone pouring from ruined visage. He yanked his fist out, placed his bloodied hand on the barrel of the other man's gun, and when he fired, the round ripped through his pistol and cut into his arm. The policeman screamed in pain and horror, but the armored figure shoved his hand through the man's chest, his scream turning into a quiet gurgle. Teetering, it took a few moments of panic before his body finally shut down, and he fell into a heap on the asphalt. 

"They died without a fight. A dirty business, but it had to be done." A voice said, sonorous and ancient. It echoed, as if from a great distance. The night was now quiet, again, the wind the only sound to carry over the streets. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever old man. Get back to your ghostly realm." Rupert's voice remarked with a bored inflection. The armor began to dissipate into nothingness, as if some immense heat had turned it to mist, and Rupert turned around, slapping his notched hat with his hand to get a small collection of particles out of it. He cleared his throat and placed it back on his head, but his telltale grin was gone. More trouble than he intended, and with a target he was not after. 

He looked at the Winter Knight speculatively. "I guess we're caught in your mess. I hope it's worth more than less." He said. "So where do we take you?"