The SHIELD stood opposite the Authority once again, an air of finality hanging like a guillotine blade above their heads. Papers and pictures were pinned to walls and scattered over tables, a complete evidence room within the basement bunker of the SHIELD's private hang-out room. The sounds of Titan City faintly echoed from beyond the entryway where Triple H had decided to pause, brighter-than-usual lights and the familiar smarmy tones of MizTV's founding broadcaster and namesake indicating the media presence building outside.

Though Triple H seemed content to lean a shoulder against the door-jam, trusty sledgehammer slung over the opposite shoulder like a lumberjack would carry their ax, and Randy Orton stood just in front of him... neither of them seemed concerned about the numbers. In fact, both of their faces were twisted with knowing smirks.

Dean Ambrose gave them both a wide grin, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation to the impending fight. "Batista not with you? Oh. That's right. Your precious enforcer turned tail and left town this morning, right? Couldn't handle the beating we gave your precious Evolution last night?"

"It's over," Roman Reigns added calmly, stepping forwards to join Ambrose's side. "We're going to go out there and tell everything to the media you so nicely brought with you. And we'll go through you, if we need to. So what are you going to do about it?"

Triple H's smug knowing smile only widened into a full-blown sneer. "Plan B."

Reigns and Ambrose silently shared a look, each wondering what the Cerebral Assassin was talking about and finding no answer between them. They ignored the clanking sound of a steel chair being folded behind him, trusting Seth Rollins with their backs while they returned their full attention to the enemy duo before them. Reigns even took a step forwards threateningly, dark eyes shifting between Orton and Triple H as if daring one of them to move first.

And then Reigns went down as a loud CLANG rang out, taken out from behind.

Everything seemed to slow down in bullet time yet speed up at the same time. Ambrose stared down at his fallen brother-in-arms, his mind rejecting what his eyes were clearly telling him. He blinked once, twice, then began haphazardly looking between Reign's immobile body and the hate-filled face of Rollins as the chair-wielding man focused on him. "What the f-?!" The chair encompasses his vision a split second before the CLANG of impact turns everything black-

Dean Ambrose snaps awake, abruptly leaning forwards as his feet slip off of their coffee-table 'footstool' and slam flat onto the ground. Adrenaline almost immediately gives way to pain, and he hisses an exhale in response even as he gets up while wrapping an arm around his tender ribs and abdomen.

Renee Young, MizTV's newest on-site reporter, could be heard through the walls as an abandoned TV broadcasts the most recent breaking news. "-ongoing crackdown on police corruption. Our own Miz was present when TCPD officers, led by Mr. Helmsley and Prosecutor Orton, raided a secret room owned by the SHIELD and arrested two of its three members. The SHIELD was a well-known squad of Titan City's SWAT, known for maverick tactics and independent attitudes both on and off the job, and is now suspected to being the core of the TCPD corruption scandal. SHIELD member Seth Rollins, now under whistle-blower protection, was instrumental in the effort. The ringleader, Dean Ambrose, has been fired by TCPD with criminal investigations pending, joining the once-beloved Captain 'Charisma' Christian in unemployed disgrace. Ambrose's partner and lieutenant, Roman Reigns, has been placed on administrative leave pending-"

Ambrose snorts derisively before banging his fist against the wall. "Turn that bullshit down! Some of us have better things to do than listen to you jerk off to a woman's voice!"

A slew of profanities echo back from the other side, but the background noise of MizTV mercifully fades into the rest of Titan City's ambiance. Ambrose himself snags a beer from the fridge and wanders over to his window-balcony, deep in thought.

So it's done. They lost. All their evidence against the Authority? Gone. Rollins probably destroyed everything while all cameras and eyes were on the conquering 'heroes' of Titan City, or at least had it all boxed up and taken away as 'evidence' of the SHIELD's wrongdoing to be destroyed later. Ambrose's rival in the police academy was always Helmsley's favorite, and he should have known Rollins was no good. How could he forget how the golden boy pandered after the likes of Instructor Regal and Mrs. McMahon-Helmsley?

He knew he'd be the scapegoat the instant they tried to cut a deal with him, especially after he told them to shove their 'offers' and either charge him or release him. Reigns still being employed by TCPD doesn't surprise him, since the 'rookie' of the trio always was the idealist. No doubt Reigns believes he can get justice the 'right' way, by the books as it 'should' be done.

Ambrose knows better. A system as corrupt as Titan City's, as in-control as the Authority, can't simply be exposed. It needs to be destroyed, brutally and completely, even if it takes going outside the law to accomplish it. But he can't do it alone – he already did that once when he retired Instructor Regal for good back in the Academy, and all that got him was a rigged Authority deal complete with a name-change and a leash. This time? He needs a plan.

He snatches a phone off of a nearby table and dials a number by memory. It only takes two rings for the other end to pick up. "Callihan."

"Been a while," Ambrose offers with a lopsided grin he didn't feel.

"Moxley? Goddamn, man, you alright? The Authority busting your balls is all over the news, even out here."

Ambrose grunts. Of course this mess would get national headlines. That's going to make clearing his and Roman's names that much harder. "Could be better, could be worse. That rat-bastard traitor Rollins will get his." A grim chuckle on the other end is all the agreement he needs to hear. "You think you can find something to do out here? I heard Helmsley is out looking for new blood."

"Wh—Yeah! Yeah, I've got nothing tying me down here." There's the sound of something being moved in the background. "Give me a few days and I'll find you. Want me to bring the switchblades?"

Ambrose barks a laugh, a heaving sound that is one part unhinged and one part almost scornful. "Don't worry about mine, Callihan. I've still got it." His voice dips unsettlingly darker as a feral grin crosses his face and he licks his lips. "Let the conspiracy begin."