Kyle was getting super bored just standing around waiting for his shift to end. "Hey," he said to his coworker next to him.
"Yeah?" Miles responded.
"Do you ever wonder why we're here?" Kyle asked him.
"I swear to God, if you start some science versus religion debate, I'm gonna punch you in the face."
"Take it easy, man! I meant why we're here, in this prison. Like, what did I do in my life that led to me working as a security guard in the biggest prison in Atlas?"
"I don't know or care," Miles tried shutting him up.
Kyle continued anyway. "I know when I was younger, I never wanted to be anything even remotely close to a security guard. I wanted to make beautiful art. But here I am, at eleven at night, guarding a bunch of crazies, killers, and thieves who would like nothing more than to get loose, riot, and assault everyone here."
Miles audibly groaned. "Can someone please shut this guy up?"
"Gladly," they heard from behind them. Before they could react, their heads were grabbed and slammed together and everything went black.
Patrick was sitting at his desk doodling. He noticed red flashing on his computer monitor and looked up from his drawing. "What the hell?" The screen said the cells in Cell Block B were opening. That wasn't supposed to happen.
He picked up the phone to report the issue. "Hey, we've got a problem in Cell Block-" He was cut off by someone clamping their arm over his throat, blocking off his windpipe. The world started to go dark and he was thrown to the ground.
His vision was hazy and dark. He saw his attacker as a large silhouette. He picked up the phone and set it back on it's hook. He moved over to the computer, plugged something in, and tapped a few keys. Patrick heard the alarm sound, signifying all of the cells in Cell Block A being opened.
"Stop," he was able to mutter. His attacker heard him and walked over. The last thing Patrick saw before waking up in a hospital room was his assailant's armored fist.
Barbara was starting to freak out. All of the prisoners were loose and trying to break out of the Cell Blocks. Guards were running to and from the armory to gear up and try to push them back into their cells.
"What the f*** is going on?!" Warden Burns stormed into the room. "Who let the sleazeballs out?!"
"We don't know," Barb answered. "It was done from the terminals in the cell block command posts, but I can't get ahold of any of the guards stationed there."
"I did a systems check," their head of tech security, Gus, reported. "Something was uploaded that's preventing us from activating any of our failsafes."
"Call this in! We need some backup here!" the warden ordered.
"Great! We can't!" Gus exclaimed after getting a notification on his computer. "Whatever's in the system just shut off the phones."
"Fine! I'll do it!" Burns pulled out his cell phone.
Officer Brandon ran over. "The prisoners are breaking through the barriers!"
"What?!" the warden yelled. "That shit's supposed to be unbreakable!"
"Yeah, well," Brandon explained. "after that big White Fang attack, we've got a lotta Faunus in here. Some of 'em must be part gorilla or rhinoceros or something cause they're definitely breaking through those barriers!"
Upon hearing that, Gus stood up and marched towards the nearest exit. "F*** this!"
After hearing about the prisoners breaking out and watching Gus just get up and leave, Barbara was officially panicked. She abandoned her desk and ran to find some place to hide, hysterically crying and shouting profanities the whole way.
Once the doors had opened, all of the prisoners got up and rushed the closest exit, going through anyone that got in their way. That is, all but one of them did. Roman Torchwick remained lying on his cot, listening to the sounds of the riot.
"Well it's about time they sent someone to come get me," he said to the man standing in his doorway. He looked over to see who exactly he was being rescued by.
He wore orange and black armor, was loaded out with several guns and knives, and carried a sword over his shoulder. He wore a helmet that was split down the center in color. Only the orange half of his helmet had an opening for his eye. The black half was completely smooth.
"Roman Torchwick," he spoke, "your boss sent me to collect you. Come with me."
Torchwick stood up from his cot. "Lead the way."
Down in the chaos below, Waylon Jones (AKA Killer Croc) was throwing off a prison guard when he saw Roman Torchwick on the level above following an armored man wearing very familiar colors.
Jones bared his teeth. If he's got a way outta here, I'm takin' it.
Torchwick followed his escort through the prison. He was being led away from the action. While all of the other prisoners were swarming the floor exits, they were heading to the roof.
Roman broke the silence between them. "So, what do I get to call my rescuer? Or do I just refer to you as 'Guy?'"
"Deathstroke," he responded.
"Deathstroke?" the master thief repeated. "That just might be the most badass name I've ever heard. So, Deathstroke, tell me. What exactly is the plan for getting out of here?"
"The prisoners get released and riot towards the exits. All of the chaos draws attention away from us so we can get to the extraction point."
"And just how are we being extracted?" Torchwick asked as they climbed up the final stairway. Instead of answering, Deathstroke just opened the door to the roof and ushered Torchwick out. The two walked out to see a Bullhead coming down onto the helipad. "Airlift. I like it."
"Me, too," they heard from behind them.
Deathstroke recognized the voice. He turned and drew a handgun on the hulking, reptilian Faunus standing in the doorway behind him.
"Who the hell is this guy?" Roman asked.
The mercenary answered, "Killer Croc: Faunus to the highest degree. More animal than man. Has a tendency to eat anyone who pisses him off. Get on board. This shouldn't take long."
Croc lumbered over. "Outta the way, Deathstroke. That ride out of here is mine," he snarled.
"Sorry, but my employers didn't send me for you." Deathstroke opened fire.
Waylon took the bullets with little harm. His hide was too thick to be pierced. He roared at the mercenary and charged. Deathstroke vaulted over the charging crocodile Faunus and fired at him from behind.
Croc was quick. He turned and swiped his claws. Unfortunately, his opponent was quicker. Deathstroke dodged the blow with ease.
Torchwick was watching all of this. "Alright, you kiddos have fun! I'll just wait here!" he called out as he climbed up into the airship. He looked into the cockpit to see who was flying and was greeted with a familiar smile. "Neo, I love ya!"
He sat down in the passenger seat next to his pink and brown companion. "The only thing that'd make this night better is if I had a-" Before he could finish, Neo held out a cigar for him. "Remind me to give you a raise," Roman said as he took the cigar.
Outside, Deathstroke was busy dodging an onslaught of claw-swipes from Croc, popping off a couple more pistol shots just to add insult. Croc threw one last swing and, when Deathstroke dodged it and raised his gun, he lunged forward and clamped his jaws down on the mercenary's forearm.
Deathstroke shouted in pain as the Faunus's teeth stabbed into his arm. His bracer was holding enough that he couldn't rip his arm off, but the sheer force behind the bite was enough to shatter a normal man's bones. Luckily, Deathstroke was far from a normal man.
He powered through the initial pain and delivered a powerful punch to Croc's jaw, freeing his arm and taking several teeth with it. He followed up with another punch from his injured arm, ignoring the pain it caused. Croc lunged his open jaws forward again, but Deathstroke was faster. He uppercut his mouth back shut.
Waylon Jones stumbled back to recover from the blow. Deathstroke used this pause to draw his sword from over his shoulder and went on the offensive. He charged forward and slashed his sword across Croc's abdomen. His blade was able to cut deep enough to pierce his armored skin. The Faunus looked up to roar at his foe, only to be treated to a boot to the jaw.
The kick sent Killer Croc stumbling back to the doorway he came from. Upon regaining his orientation, he gripped the metal door with his massive, clawed hands and ripped it clean off the hinges. With one arm, he threw the door at Deathstroke. The assassin's reflexes were far too quick. He leaped into the air, kicked the door with one foot to stop its momentum, and kicked with the other to send it back at its thrower.
Croc was forced backwards into the doorway and caught the frame to keep from falling down the flight of stairs. But the assassin wasn't done with him. He charged forward and swung his sword in a downward arc. Croc raised his arm to defend his torso and the blade hacked into his forearm. He roared pain as Deathstroke left his sword in its newfound place and picked up the removed door that lay at his feet. He swung it like a baseball bat and hit the crocodile Faunus with it one, two, three times. On the third hit, the metal door broke in half against Croc's face.
Deathstroke took a step back to look on his work. Killer Croc stood there in the doorway, barely keeping himself up, with a bruised and bloody face, a bleeding gash in his gut, and his sword still stuck in his arm. To finish him off, the mercenary raised his boot and kicked him hard in the chest, sending the reptilian brute tumbling down the flight of stairs he had entered from.
With that speed bump out of the way, Deathstroke marched back over to the Bullhead that was still waiting for him. He stepped on board and was immediately greeted by Torchwick's smug grin.
"So did we have fun with the other inmates?" he asked mockingly.
The mercenary paid him no mind and instead addressed Neo at the controls. "We're good to go."
"Are you sure?" Roman said. "There might be more of these savages for you to mercilessly kick the shit out of."
"Get us out of here," he told their pilot before sitting down across from the officially escaped inmate. He removed his helmet and set it next to him, revealing his white hair and beard and the eye patch covering his right eye.
"So tell me," Roman asked as he gestured to his eye, "what happened here?"
"Dangers that come with the job," Deathstroke answered.
"Cryptic. I like it." He took a puff from his cigar. "So what exactly was busting me out worth?"
"It takes a lot to get me to break into an Atlas prison. Make sure to show your boss your appreciation after how much this cost her." His comm started beeping. "That should be her now." He reached up to answer the call and spoke into his earpiece. "This is Deathstroke."
He heard his employer, Cinder Fall, on the other side of the line. "Do you have the package?"
"I have it. We're heading back to rendezvous now. The package talks a little more than I would've hoped."
"You do know I'm still here, right?" Torchwick chimed in.
"Excellent," his employer said. "Your payment will be deposited into your account by the time you return. But before we part ways, I must make you another offer."
"I'm listening."
"What if I offered to pay you triple what this mission rewarded for you to complete another task for me?" Miss Fall asked him.
"I'd say 'tell me who to kill,'" the assassin answered.
"A team of huntresses in training. I will give you more details in person, but Roman should be able to fill you in. He's quite acquainted with them."
A/N: So that was just a fun little one shot to clear up that plot point in Contract and justify my use of Torchwick. And who knows? Maybe it'll open up a few possibilities for future tales.