That Saturday, Drake filed the appropriate paperwork at the police station and arranged to cover the cost of the damage his little skirmish had caused to the bank the previous day.
On the way out, he ran into a man walking past the bank. As Drake apologized, he thought he glimpsed the hand-grip of a Mossberg 500 shotgun, tucked away under the man’s jacket.
Having a gun wasn’t in itself unusual; Drake had his own personal armoury after all, although people usually just carried a handgun, if at all.
Deciding to trail the man, he watched him walk down the street and turn a corner before following. Drake shadowed the man to the museum and counted to thirty before going in after him.
Entering the museum, he was greeted by panicked museum-goers as the man stood waving the Mossberg in the air, barking orders to both guards and patrons.
Drake sighed, putting his hands up when the man spied him. It would have been nice to go somewhere WITHOUT someone pointing a gun at him for once…
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