The ever-likable Senator James Atlas was going to reveal the details of his extraordinary humanitarian effort that had plagued the city and the nation with rumors. As the teeming attendees were finalizing last minute details and finding their seats, a booming speaker from somewhere behind the stage proclaimed the entrance of the much-anticipated political figure.

The man named Lance turned and spotted a familiar slender figure in a black tux printed tee, toting a backpack, dashing towards him. He was leaving an edgy carbon black police car with the words “NEW ATLANTIS POLICE” in bold white letters and a royal blue outline painted on the hood and sides of the car. If that wasn’t enough of an explanation, the word “SWAT” was imprinted on the rear window behind the driver. The young man had barely gotten out of the back of the cruiser and shut the door when it roared again and shot off towards the city center. Lance watched the car disappear into the distance and looked back to his approaching friend. Grinning, Lance couldn’t help giving him a hard time as he slowed to a brisk walk.

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