She runs.

The cops calloused greasy hand closed around her wrist and Max knew she had little choice, she couldn't let herself get caught, too many risks. She looked down at her bike; unfortunately she'd have to leave it behind. She knew retrieving it from the impound yard would be a bitch but it was better than the alternative.

"Sorry," she whispered regrettably to her bike before driving her elbow back into the cop's windpipe. In a blur she was gone, sprinting down the alley before the cop had even hit the pavement for breath.

Max rounded the corner, leaping up to an old fire escape; cutting across the building's roof would buy her some time. The shock of her attack and escape must have worn off because she could hear the road block come alive in an explosion of sound and lights. Sirens blazed as the cops began their pursuit.

Escape and evade, it was what she was made to do. Sliding down a pipe on the opposite side of the building she landed in another alley. She knew the area; she had a mental map of every street in Seattle. But at this time of night her options where limited. Most of the sector closed down during the night but she knew of a few bars and clubs that she could lay low in that might still be open a few blocks east and there was always the option to double back to Logan's. Whatever her choice was she had to make it quick.