[spoiler]OH MY PANTS.[/spoiler] Stephenson collapses, then slowly rises. Something in his face seems to... shift. His nose begins to bleed. The private detective rolls his shoulders, and his eyes lock onto the faraway sniper's nest. A low humming seems to emanate from him, and suddenly a compact rifle with quadruped barrels is in his hands. Stephenson's voice is cold and flat. The voice of a dead man. [b]Agent Crane online. Target acquired.[/b] The rifle spins up, and a hail of bullets literally cuts the top off of the building the sniper is in.