[b][i]The Backdoor Man[/i][/b] [i]"Concrete shoes, cyanide, TNT DONE DIRT CHEAP Neck ties, contracts, high voltage DONE DIRT CHEAP" -AC/DC[/i] [b]Ten Miles Outside of Dojoville[/b] [i]Wilson stepped forth from a rift in space and time, the shred closing behind him as he exited, the unconscious soldier on his shoulder. Before him, far out in the forests beyond the Dojo and Dojoville, was a small building, a shed of sorts. Opening the door, he entered the stairwell, which led down to an underground bunker about as big as a medium-sized garage. Throwing her to the ground once he reached bottom, he flicked the lights on. All around him, the room was loaded with supplies, ammunition, food, water, medical supplies, alcohol, supplies to repair his armor, rifles, handguns, and plenty of other weapons. What stood out, however, was the metal chair sitting in the center of the room, a medical tray on a medical table next to it, with a car battery and jumper cables on the floor. There was some dried blood on the floor below the chair, and it clearly had restraints, leather straps built into the chair. Walking past it, and tossing one of his combat knives onto the small medical table, he walked over to the power armor stand in the corner, and exited his armor. Climbing out, Wilson wore Elite Riot Armor, minus the helmet. Taking his revolver belt from his armor, he strapped it on around his waist, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his bandolier. Pulling one from the pack, he perched it between his lips, sliding the pack into the bandolier on his person. Lighting it, he took a drag, and headed over to the soldier on the ground. Putting a foot on her neck, he reached down and disengaged it by fiddling around with some mechanism, the armor opening up. Looking at the woman inside, Wilson's eyebrow raised. She was young, perhaps 24 or 25, pale with bleach-blonde hair, and petite. He was surprised to see someone that good-looking as a soldier, but nonetheless, he figured she'd been trained well. Picking her up, he dragged her over to the chair, and strapped her in, leaving her there while he moved the armor to its own stand. Setting up the Venom armor, he headed into the bathroom in the small building, filling a bucket with cold water. Walking out from the bathroom after a few minutes, lit cigarette in his mouth, bucket on hand, he approached her and poured the water on her. She awoke with a start, completely terrified, struggling to escape. She eyed Wilson like a deer in the headlights.[/i] "Who... who are you? Where am I?!" [i]She looked around wildly.[/i] "Welcome to hell, sweetheart. Alright, here's what's gonna happen. One of my friends is gonna come in here and ask questions. You want to answer now, and I don't hurt you. You make this hard, I'll bleed it out of you." [i]He said, smiling like a killer. [/i] [i]She looked at him, and spat at him. Wilson sighed, and blew smoke from his nose.[/i] "Guess we're doing this the hard way. Alright." [i]Standing up, he tossed his cigarette, and grabbed the jumper cables from the floor, turning the battery on as well. Laughing, he touched the two of them together, a spark jumping between them....[/i] [b][i]The following has been cut out due to extremely graphic content.[/i][/b] [b]Four Hours Later[/b] [i]Nicholas Clarkson stepped down the stairs leading to Wilson's bunker, and stopped at the bottom, staring at the panting, bloodied, and exhausted-looking woman strapped in the chair. Clarkson said nothing, walking over to Wilson, and looked down to the girl. [/i] "Hello, love. I hear you're ready to talk." [i]He said, voice cold. [/i] "Yes..." [i]she said, out of breath, tears running slowly down her cheeks, mixing with a bit of blood on her right cheek.[/i] "I want to know exactly why you're here. I want to know why you're killing civilians. I want to know who sent you. I want to know why you have Venom Incorporated technology. I want a name, too." [i]Clearly he was not in the mood for anything, as his voice took on a sharp edge.[/i] [i]She looked up to Clarkson, pleadingly.[/i] "Please... don't leave me here with him... anything, I will answer..." [i]She said softly.[/i] [i]Clarkson smiled beneath his mask, and replied.[/i] "I won't, so long as you aren't lying to me." "O... ok... My name is Rose... Rose Mercier... I was French Foreign Legion, Atlas recruited me.... I'm sorry, I do not know his name, but he is one man.... He recruited the remaining Venom Incorporated operators and contracted other mercenaries... He sent one other and me to agitate this place to draw out the Wolfe..." [i]As she spoke, Wolfe approached, walking down the stairs silently, observing the conversation as it occurred. [/i] "We were not told why. We were just told to draw him out and subdue him... We were to bring him back...." [i]She continued.[/i] "Back to where?" [i]Clarkson asked sharply.[/i] [i]Wilson simply sat watching amusedly, playing with a knife.[/i] "Mexico. Atlas is operating somewhere in the Yucatán Peninsula. I have not been to his base personally, I have only heard that it is there..." [i]She looked fearfully up at Clarkson, eyes darting between him and Wilson.[/i] "Why do you have tytritium weapons and the Venom armor?" [i]Clarkson asked, tone becoming flat.[/i] "Atlas gave it to us. I promise you, monsieur, I do not know anymore, please..." [i]She seemed to be on the verge of crying. [/i] "Thanks b*tch!" [i]Wilson said, drawing his revolver and pulling the hammer back. [/i] [i]Before he could shoot, however, Wolfe spoke up, stepping into the light.[/i] "Don't kill her." "Why the hell not? She basically slaughtered all those people..." [i]Asked Wilson, almost offended.[/i] "You're not one to talk, Wilson. Keep her alive. She's of more use to us alive." [i]The room was silent, Rose silently awaiting her fate. Wilson and Wolfe stared each other down for almost two solid minutes before Clarkson spoke.[/i] "Wolfe's right. Keep her alive. The armor is yours to keep, Wilson. Ms. Mercier, you'll be with us. Understand, however, that should you decide to betray me, I won't hesitate to kill you. Am I understood?" [i]There was a clear emphasis on Clarkson's last two statements. [/i] [i]With that, he turned and left, heading out of the building. Wolfe stood silently by the stairs, and Wilson reluctantly slid his revolver back into place, sighing.[/i] "I hate you, kid." [i]He said, walking back over to his power armor, strapping his pistol belt back to it, and climbing inside. [/i] [i]The armor locked around him, and he walked forwards, and undid the restraints on the chair. Rose stood slowly, unsteadily. Her whole body ached, the shocks, beatings, and waterboarding had left her beyond exhausted. The three exited the building, and began making their way to the Dojo. Rose needed a new set of armor, and some new gear, and neither the Courier nor the Vengeful Son trusted her.[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]