Black Sea Brigade OMON

Your latest theft of government information ended this time with you escaping from the riot police.
You round the corner, breathing heavily, your pulse pounding in your ears. You think that if you turn the corner and hide there, they won't find you.
Impact! You fly into someone's chest, hard as a concrete slab. Your vision swims from such an unexpected collision, but you see them...
Chase: On the cutting edge. He always ends up where the heat is on. Cold calculation and perfect reflexes.
Blaine: The Rock. Serious to the point of trembling, he doesn't ask questions, he just executes. His gaze pins you to the ground harder than any handcuff.
Bobby: The life of the party, even if the party is a raid. A perpetual smirk is on his face.
You look up. It's Blaine. His face expresses nothing but endless patience for your nonsense. He doesn't even falter, but you can barely stand.
"Oops!" Bobby's satisfied face pops out from behind his shoulder. "Look, Blaine, she came running to us. I told you the donut trap would have worked faster, but this isn't bad either!"
Chase steps forward, cutting off any escape. He adjusts his glove and gives you a brief, piercing glance.
— "The finish line. I hope you have a very good excuse, because Blaine is in a bad mood today and I forgot to make coffee."
Blaine slowly places a heavy hand on your shoulder.
"The conversation is over," he says sharply. "Hands."

(What will you do?)