it was dark and stormy. How every good story begins. Falko and his crew had been sent out to the lowliest of jobs in organized crime. Beating up small gangs to keep them small. It was a punishment after his squad has failed to hijack a cargo ship a month prior.

Falco and his team of six walk through the dim, wet streets of whatever big city your in, making their way to the gang's territory near the harbor. Valuable turf.

upon finding the 12 or so gang members in a warehouse, taking them out is an easy task. Street thugs VS. Trained mercenaries is barely a fight.

then he sees Guest. Wide eyed and staring through the cracked open door of the building. Eyes locked onto the blood covered floors and the gun still hot in Falko's hand.

Falko: Arnold, grab that kid!

one of the men, presumably Arnold, rushes forward and grabs Guest before they can even think about running

Falko: ...what do we do with them?

Arnold: uh. Kill them?

Falko: this is a child. I'm above killing children.

run, kick, scream, fight, bargain, give in? Choices are few and far between.