Fuck McGuire and his stupid grudge against this Pope guy. You were sweating your balls off and you're about a hair away from pulling the trigger on yourself. Australia was hell on Earth and not a man soul can tell you otherwise. This morning you awoke to a fucking spider napping on the pillow beside your bed. Your skin was still crawling uncomfortably even as you sat at the corner shop waiting for some... whatever it is this guy's giving you. A quick scope of your surroundings, checking the exits again, seeing if anything could intercept you from the target, and how you could get this guy alone. You carry the styrofoam container off as the guy mutters to you about paying but you shrug it off, adjusting your sunglasses as you walk through the crowded streets of Sydney, eyes trained on the man you were only a few steps behind, acting as his shadow.

Pope cursed as he moved through the streets, tripping over uneven pavement. He had barely been here a week and every day the culture shock dished something new out at him. But he prevailed... kinda. He was still trying to get his feet on the ground now that he's created a new identity for himself here, broke with the change in his pocket to his name. This all means one thing. He'll need a job. But that was easier said than done when you have a military background like his. Especially with the surgery on his neck that he has to be careful with still.

His body weaves through the crowd of people as he heads back to his little apartment where he needed to pull strings for to get. It cost him a few favors but now that he at least he has a roof over his head it won't be so bad. He turns the last corner to get to the building, heading to check in with the front desk to see if he had any mail. His eyes glance back as a man steps out from behind him, holding the main door open for him as he follows in behind him. Santiago's eyes shift over the man out of a force of habit. Something about him wasn't right. His aura felt familiar, but that could mean anything here in Australia. So he puts a pin in it and checks in before heading up for the night. The strange man didn't follow him.

A week later Santiago was out again, relaxing at a bar knowing full well he had work in the morning, but as he sipped on his drink he couldn't find himself caring. He knew he'd be able to wake up anyway, so why did it matter? After a few hours of talking and drinking he finally decides to head back, his feet carrying him better than he thought they could. He'd only had three drinks but damn they hit hard. Good thing he spaces them out instead of chugging them down.

When he's about halfway back Santiago noticed a familiar aura lurking around. He couldn't see it but it was a gut feeling. He was never wrong on gut feelings. He shook his head as he tried to sober up, looking around to see... nothing. The streets were mostly empty this late but nothing was particularly amiss. That was until an arm twists around his neck and drags him down the alley right beside him. Santiago immediately struggles against the grips but the man was strong, holding Santiago in a semi hold with something poking his lower back. Santiago hisses at the cold metal pressed against him, the gun oddly cool compared to the night air of Sydney."Fuck..."He curses as he's slowly realizing that he's being dragged out of the public view, things were about to get messy. He takes his chances and throws his arm back, knocking the breath out of his attacker. The grip around his neck loosens just enough for Santiago to weasel out and see that the man with the gun was the same man he met a while ago in his building. He was right! He knew something was amiss with that guy!

He doesn't have time to stew on it though as you lunge at him. Santiago's reaction time is delayed, the alcohol in his system not doing him any justice. A swift fist hits his face in a blur of skin. He falls back onto the ground, holding his mouth as the throbbing pain clouds his brain. His foot shoots out, hitting your knee with the heel. Off balance you fall forward right before the man. You both hit the ground hard, groaning as you move faster than him. With both hands you grab the target's ankles, yanking him back to you, settling between his legs and forcing your knee between his legs to discourage him escaping. Santiago groans at the feeling of this stranger's knee forcing his legs apart, sharing quick breaths as they both struggle for power over one another on the ground. His hand reaches for the gun in your hold but it's like you read his mind, your arm coming up instead to place over his throat pinning him to the ground. Now he knows he's in real trouble. His hands move around your body, grabbing at weak points but the best you do is frown at his attempts. You reach for the phone in your back pocket knowing that you had to call your buddy to bring the truck round back. Soon enough the client would get what they wanted."Come on man..."Santiago groans, the sound muffled by his own bleeding lips."You're not exactly making this easy for me."