The sirens didn't bother him. They had been there for hours, fading in and out as police cars, ambulances, and fire engines came and went. He had gotten used to their wailing, and truth be told, had even started to like it a little bit.
He heard a click and a distorted whine and realized that someone had the megaphone on again. They would try to talk to him again. Try to tell him to come out with his hands up, or to get on his knees and wait for SWAT. No thanks.
Rolling up the sleeve of his long coat, he took long strides towards one of the room's windows, taking care not to step too heavily on the spiraling designs he had carved into the wooden floor. He snatched a knife, one of many, from the table and opened the window as the megaphone kept babbling.
Someone said something to the effect of "There he is!" and he cocked his arm back, holding the knife by its tip. He took a moment to scan the crowd, saw the cop with the megaphone, and let fly.
The crowd panicked and scattered. He grinn