You always knew this might happen, and you've prepared for it. Even as your ears ring and you see an FBI assault team moving up the parking garage, you realize two things. First, you could very well meet your final death in the next few moments, from fire or sunlight. Second, you made plans for this sort of thing.
You remember that conversation you had with Julian just after you arrived in Tucson. And you remember how quickly you put those plans into action at your first haven, and then every subsequent one—including your parking garage.
The trick to a good burglary is knowing how people expect you to move, and then defying those expectations. The trick to stopping a home intrusion—whether to deter petty theft or to stop an SI kill team from dragging you into the sunlight with hooks—is to know how they intend to move.
As the FBI agents move into your parking garage, you step back and pull a lever that resembles a fire alarm, except it's painted white. There's a whirr of hidden motors, but nothing happens! Either your mechanisms don't work or the FBI already disengaged them.
An agent with a shotgun comes around the corner, and you duck behind a parked Mazda as his shotgun blows its door off.
More gunfire tears through your parking garage, ripping away the protective screens you set up to shield yourself from the sunlight.
Shafts of light from the setting sun cut through the parking garage, driving you almost mad with bestial fear as the FBI agents close in to destroy you. They've come prepared, too, with Remington 870 shotguns instead of assault rifles. But since the first wave of gunfire didn't take you out, Donati has sent in two guys with body armor and fire axes.
Do they teach ax fighting at Quantico? Reflected sunlight gleams on the steel. Behind them: more agents with shotguns…and flamethrowers.
You grab the tire iron as the agents close in. They're deceptively fast, even in their armor, and though you parry the first ax swing, you stumble off balance. You swing the tire iron twice, unable to connect, then duck a shotgun blast. Then the second ax-wielding agent smashes you across the side, hurling you over a Subaru Impreza, though the ax doesn't actually hurt you.
You land badly, but the agents have a hard time recovering after their attacks. One manages a vicious but clumsy overhead chop that rips into the concrete ground. Before you're surrounded, you push into the secondary stairwell. There are more agents above, so rather than run down the steps, you just drop down one floor to ground level.
Next
You're outside, on the east side of your massive parking complex. Your position is the only reason you haven't burst into flames. From here you can reach multiple entrances to the city sewers, but you'll have to cross some open terrain. Police and emergency vehicles are everywhere, and more are arriving every minute. Your bare feet feel hot against the asphalt as you consider—
A green dot sweeps across the ground toward you.
You throw yourself behind the ticket dispenser as bullets fly. Agent Donati is on the roof of the Mexican restaurant across the street, carefully lining up a shot with her Remington 700 sniper rifle.
But then an eagle's call distracts her. It's Riga! You force yourself not to track the eagle and instead to look for escape routes.
Riga drops before Donati can draw a bead on the eagle, settling behind Dove's mint green 1965 Chrysler 300, parked around the corner. Carlos is behind the wheel. You don't know if he planned to rescue you or if he just followed all these cop cars, but the Camarilla is here. You could run for the Chrysler…if you're confident that the Camarilla likes you enough to save you.
Alternatively, those sewer entrances are tricky. You've explored them—obviously—but none guarantee escape. One route is always locked and the other is flooded, requiring an extremely unpleasant swim.
Another FBI van skids to a halt nearby and more heavily armored agents get out. The sun sets in less than a minute, but you have to move now.