Lost in an unfamiliar city, you are on foot and turned to enter an alley. Among the usual garbage cans, wooden crates, cardboard boxes, and assorted debris, you see someone on the ground, bleeding. Kim, a tall, muscular, golden-haired woman, wearing a form-fitting t-shirt and black leather pants and boots, with fists clenched, is crouched over the person, but not rendering aid. When you get a slightly better look, you notice the victim is a stocky male in his 30s wearing a police uniform. And he isn't moving. Kim sees you. "Oh, how unfortunate," she says, making a tsking sound. "Not your lucky day--because there aren't supposed to be any witnesses." She gets up, fists still clenched, and moves menacingly toward you.