The man’s smooth, jet black hair curved around his scalp and then flipped out in the back. He had on a black pair of “matrix-style” glasses and a black turtleneck sweater. To top it all of he wore black corderoy jeans and shiny black loafers. His name was Pierre Monsiuer, and at this precise moment he was lighting himself a Camel cigarette. Jericho Evans sat down his binoculars and sighed. How could a man like Pierre Monsiuer, wane in seven countries for murder, be so careless? Jericho lifted his radio to his mouth and gave the order. Immediately, a squad of six plain-clothes FBI agents surrounded Pierre. In the split-second that followed the most unexpected thing happend. Pierre attacked all six agents, killing them all instantly. The oddest thing about it was that they fell at the exact same time. How could Pierre strike all six of them in the same instant? Chaos ensued. Pedestrains began to scream and scatter. Jericho watched as Pierre walked into in alleyway. Ande then he was gone.