It is the year 2060. You're all nobodies; despised by your overlords and threatened by your fellows. The ultra-wealthy could kill hundreds of you and never even bat an eye.
Your job: Escort your captives to the rally.
Your charges:
Ila Rio, uber-wealthy gene modder
An out-of-touch celebrity that has probably never been confronted with any real difficulty... until now. Being an early adopter of radical genetic modification, she quickly outstripped conventional pop stars and entertainers with unnaturally flawless looks and singing, as well as a surgical hand for manipulating public opinion.
Nameless bodyguard
A man who was protecting her when she was taken. He's probably a nobody. He's not even modded that you can see, but two deaths make for a bigger media circus than just one, right?
The op
Your fellow brothers of the Oak Tribe are filming a little video; something shocking, a declaration of war on the current state of affairs. Your job is to merely take your captives away from the riot, to the secluded filming site in the slums downtown. Getting past the police will probably be the most difficult part.
Your gear:
Your driver is well-stocked with weapons. He has:
A shotgun
An assault rifle
A sub-machine gun
Three pistols
Two hand grenades
... and plenty of ammunition for all.
Currently, you are also wearing your masks. While they identify you as friendly to the rioters, the masks will not endear the police to you.
Mission Begin
"I still can't believe you guys caught them because they fucking tripped."
The driver has not shut up in the entire time since he arrived. First, he was greatly amused by the armored car that had smashed a path through the hotel, with its police lights still blinking; then he had fixated on the subject of your target's capture, and was still in utter disbelief, even as you finally clambered into the van with your prisoners and settled in for the most tense part of the night's activities.
"I mean, really? How clumsy can you be? That's some voodoo, black magic shit right there, huh? It's, like... cosmic. You know?"
Despite your best icy glares, he ignores your silent urging for silence and continues babbling as he starts the engine, carefully reverses through the ruined hotel, and backs out into the street.
The riot is in full swing; fires litter the street, angry civilians are breaking windows, looting businesses and destroying anything they can get their collective hands on, and you can hear the sounds of gunfire as the police finally arrive on the edge of the area. A chopper circles overhead, and it's too dark to see whom it belongs to: the media, or the cops.
The driver, upon seeing the situation outside, nervously turns back to you. "I don't know anything about this shit, guys. I was just told to come pick you up. So, uh.... Where are we going?"