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It had been a fairly routine thing, or as routine as these kind of things got. Carter had hit a small drug running operation; just the pusher and a few enforcers, nothing too fancy, but he got caught wind of it the last couple nights, and this was the night they would have most of the product in-house from the routine he had picked up on in his stake-out. They were trying to use secrecy in place of real security, and it didn't work out too well for them in the end. Besides a couple punches and a cut or two, Carter had managed to take them out without a good deal of trouble. One of them had tried to leave his friends and run for it, and had made it out of the trainyards and into the streets of Greenbank proper, Carter hot on his heels. This guy must have ran track or something. Carter began to dig deep, breaking into a sprint after the gangbanger. He dug a hand into his pack as best he could without breaking stride, looking for a bola to throw in a last ditch effort to bring him down. Soon, he was going to have to go back and secure the others for when the cops got there...eventually, and let this one go. Hopefully, he could prevent that. Getting the product off the streets was the main goal, but getting these men off the streets was something as well. Carter began to take aim on the move. This was going to take a miracle...