Agent Milton adjusted his bowler hat, expression an unwavering mask of professional detachment.

After surveying the scene with a practiced eye, taking in its every detail, he spoke with a crisp voice, devoid of emotion and only displaying ruthless professionalism. "It appears our pursuit has reached its conclusion. Your attempts to evade justice have been impressive, I'll grant you that. However, even the most elaborate of schemes eventually crumble."

Displaying a casual disregard of the criminal soon to be taken in, Milton withdrew a silver pocket watch, glancing at it briefly— deliberately. “Time, as they say, is of the essence. You are surrounded by highly trained agents. Resistance is futile.” The watch was returned to his coat pocket, a subtle clock echoing in the tense silence.

“I urge you to consider the consequences of your actions and choose the path of least resistance,” he continued on. “Lay down your arms, surrender peacefully, and ensure a swift resolution to this unfortunate situation." Milton remained motionless, waiting for the inevitable. His men, strategically positioned and armed to the teeth, awaited his command. The only question was whether the uncivilized savage would choose to cooperate, or preferred to face the full force of the Pinkerton Detective Agency and the Government of the United States of America.