PlagueDoctor walks out among the crowd and up towards the podium, shaking out the bullet lodged within his jacket. The Philadelphia police force had finally had enough and had begun training their officers in marksmanship. The bribes were no longer as effective, and Havana_James was unable to survive her onslaught. 

Snow trickled down from above, the pitch-black sky illuminated by the cheery lights of the streets as the walkways were slowly coated in a blanket of white. The cold air prickled through the various jackets and sweaters among the crowd, notably not of those wearing their rightfully earned Ushankas. 

Plague produced a bloodstained cap of yet another fallen Philadelphia FBN officer, flicking a lighter and setting it aflame. He let it fall to the ground, the flames spreading and charring the fabric inch by inch. 

"I am not typically one for eulogies, and I feel that those are better served at Havana_James' funeral. I should however mention the tragedy the Gulag program has unfortunately been forced to come to terms with. Not even a mere four days from Christmas. I should also mention it occurs at a time when the Gulag Program is at its best, with a whole host of new entrants, all of which had succeeded without any problems. Even those on their second or third rounds had no issues...and now it was unforutunately cut short." 

"We understand the risk, however. All streaks come to an end eventually, and Havana_James will be well compensated. That's not why I am specifically here though." 

Plague adjusted his gloves, temporarily warming his hands as he stretched his numbed fingers. 

"It's Christmas time. The time when all of us should be coming together. Personally, I don't think such a setback thrown at us today should change anything. In fact, I simply see it as an opportunity. We're now at a point in time where, according to some "insight", the FBN will not be such a pushover anymore. Now combine that with this new force gunning down Havana_James without a thought." 

He stepped forward, stomping his foot into the burnt remnants of the cap, digging into it with his heel. 

"If that was enough to stop anyone, I wouldn't be here participating in the gulag as I am now. Honorable mention to Milk, who was more than happy to provide a traitorous FBN agent for me to practice on. It's safe to say my trial is now underway. Secondary mention to Shane_Stetson, who joined the fray only a mere moment before I did." 

Plague pointed out towards the crowd, eyeing whoever might make the next attempt. 

"As is such of the Christmas spirit however, there's probably no better time than the few days before Christmas Day to avenge a fallen Comrade (assuming I am eligible to use this term in good faith). Pulling through this endeavor should wind up being a true Christmas miracle." 

"TonyTheTailor has built himself a rather big family and has always openly and willingly extended his arms to those who make the step forward. I think the same should be offered in return. Perhaps I might be able to get him to actually wear a Christmas sweater for once!" 

Plague stepped down from the pedestal. 

"I'd like to think Havana_James is up there with the angels. It's only right that we do something to honor their sacrifice, just as the comrades honored Peter and his kin about a month prior. No better time of the year than now. Christmas is all about new beginnings, and perhaps this will give light to an even better one." 

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."