Near the southern end of the bridge that carried I-128 over Steward's Bay was a small grouping of little used docks. Too small for modern day cargo ships, they often sat unused. However, this early morning, that was not the case. Though the sky was lit, the sun was still nearly an hour from cresting the horizon. A trio of speedboats approached and two pulled into the docks to disgorge heavily armed men and women. Most of them dispersed to cover the area around the water while several pairs began patrolling the stacks of cargo containers.
Once the area was secured, the third speedboat docked and let off a single passenger, a grim-faced man walking with the assistance of a straight cane. He looked about, then turned back to the water and held up a device. Unseen by normal eyes, the device let off a series of IR bursts. A few minutes later, what appeared to be several old harbor passenger craft approached, trundling towards the docks at a sedate pace. As the ships approached, the guards began looking around more, their tension levels growing.
The modified crafts docked and let off a number of workers who, while not guards, were still armed with pistols. They took up positions along the docks as the grim-faced man approached the first ship. At that moment, several pairs of headlights illuminated near the docking facility entrance as diesel engines rumbled to life and air brakes squealed upon release. Four unmarked semi trucks approached along the water's edge and turned to line up in the corridors formed by the cargo containers.
Soon enough, the purpose for the impressive amounts of security and secrecy were revealed as lines of chained individuals began disembarking from the passenger ships. They marched at a slow pace along the docks towards the trucks and God only knows what fate.
Observing all of this was a lone individual who'd taken up position near the top of a stack of cargo containers. He sat on his haunches, the bottoms of his feet glowing with dark amber energy that held him fast to the side of a container. Sam 'Whipcrack' Beckett had watched the entire process through a small set of binoculars while an IR camera, also attached to the container, recorded it. Tucking away the binoculars, he left the camera in place and shot out a strand of psychokinetic energy, attaching it to the container. He descended slowly as two of the patrolling guards approached. Whipcrack hung upside down, knees wide and feet bottoms touching as he reached out with his free hand to tap one of the guards on the shoulder. "Hey buddy, you got a light?"
The guard whipped around, his rifle already coming up, but Whipcrack was faster. A glowing fist shot out and cracked the guard across the jaw, imparting a small burst of concussive energy that guaranteed unconsciousness. Before the other guard could pull their trigger, Whipcrack swung on the strand and flipped over their head to land behind them. The guard turned to follow, but before they could pull their trigger, the hero had shot out two strands that wrapped them and their weapon up. He wrapped up the other guard and hauled them to the top of the container stack, then went on the prowl for the rest of the guards.
Putting yourself in another persons shoes emotionally is something that everyone has to experience eventually. It's part of learning to be a human being. Roleplayers do it for fun.