The nature of your existence means you spend a lot of time considering how to escape through the sewers. You move fast, sticking to the shadows and using your mini crowbar to pop the manhole. Donati's gunfire misses you by inches as you drop down into the darkness. FBI agents pour in after you. You pull your lock picks, but the grate is a rusted mess, and it won't open. You keep working—until a shotgun blast hammers you in the back, knocking you against the grate.
You fall, stunned.
Shotgun blasts hammer you as you try to rise, knocking you against the wall and blowing huge holes in your chest and hands.
"Is it dead?" someone asks.
"Not yet," someone else says. "You have to take the head."
Then a fire ax drops onto your neck.
End