Worn-out Ballistic Vest

Listen, you doped up shit for brains. You're not in a position to bargain. Either you give me the fucking deets, or I'm eventually going to penetrate that shiny dome of yours. You might have a military grade brain case... but baby, belive me, these bullets will penentrate eventually. That dent is starting to go mighty deep. 

*pop* And deeper it goes... Who hired you? Why? We need to know. We don't want another war, and this little display of brazen daylight attacks need to stop. Tell us and I'll consider not hunting down anyone you ever talked to. We've got all your details. The only things we are missing is the WHO. As in, WHO asked you to attack? Last chance.