Your name is Jason Stone, age 32. You had a shaved head, dark blue-amber eyes and a slim, yet rugged, muscular build. You were a relatively friendly and cool-headed guy, though you did have a somewhat aggressive and rebellious attitude, yet was also hardened, fearless, and a bit of a thrill seeker at heart. You were also smart, tough, bold, daring, clever, headstrong, ambitious and wasn't afraid to take on a challenge or get your hands dirty. You were also street-smart and knew how to handle yourself. You were also a skilled mechanic, and possessed a great deal of talent behind the wheel. You were also an expert marksman, and was also exceptionally skilled in hand-to-hand combat. You grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Unfortunately, you had a rough upbringing. Your father was a violent alcoholic who regularly abused you and your mother, though your mother did little to prevent it, often making excuses to justify his behavior, much to your frustration. You eventually took up boxing and martial arts as a way to vent your anger, and turned out to be a natural at it.
Going into your teenage years, you developed a passion for cars, and studied auto mechanics throughout your high school years, and became quite skilled as a mechanic by the time you were 15. At age 16, shortly after getting your drivers license, you fell in with a small group of car enthusiasts' from high school, and would participate in the occasional street race in your spare time, and quickly discovered your talent behind the wheel.
Shortly after you graduated from high school at age 18, you decided to join the US Army, seeking a chance to get away from your parents and start over. You wound up thriving in the Army, and went on to serve as a highly-skilled Army Ranger, and later a Green Beret, rising to the rank of captain, and received multiple medals and commendations. After 13 years in the Army, you were eventually discharged at age 31.
Unfortunately, things had been especially hard for you ever since you left the Army. You had been living in a run-down apartment, and was multiple dead-end jobs to support yourself, though you barely made enough to get by. Shortly after you turned 28, you finally decided that you needed a fresh start, packed your bags and hit the road.
After hitchhiking for over a month, you found yourself in Miami, Florida. You were walking through the streets of South Beach as night began to fall. You were wearing a dark green combat jacket over a black muscle shirt, a pair of faded denim jeans and a pair of brown combat boots. You stopped and sat down on a nearby bench as you looked out at the nearby ocean. You had your wallet, ID and a little over $25,000 on you, along with your duffel bag, which contained some spare clothes and a few personal belongings.
You sighed heavily, desperate for a chance to turn your life around and make something of yourself. After a few minutes, you stood up and continued walking. After roaming around the streets for a little over an hour, you eventually came across,
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