Hello again readers! What's this? Another chapter! Yay!

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The next morning, they got to work. Grant under Jennie's orders took two of his men to assist them in rebuilding the weapons depot, telling them where everything went.

Sakura held up a board, and reached for the hammer. She felt nothing. "Tristan!" She called out. "I need a hammer."

After a few moments, he moonwalked into her view. "You can't touch this." He moved his shoulders, waltzing over to her. "You can't touch this."

She stared at him, fighting the smile. "I need the hammer."

He whirled in a circle. "Break it down!"

She rolled her eyes. "Tris…"

He held out a hand. "Stop!" He whipped out the hammer, placing it in her hand. "Hammer time!" He started beat boxing, hammer dancing back to his work. "Go with the flow, it is said, if you can't groove to this then you probably are dead." He disappeared behind the corner, still singing, and Sakura rolled her eyes, smiling, and went back to working.

John held up a metal sheet, and found that he couldn't grab the blowtorch. "Ella, get over here."

Ella walked over. "Please?"

"Can you grab that torch? I can't weld and hold at the same time." john said, oblivious to her request.

She glared at him, and handed him the torch. "I'm busy." She said, turning and walking away, fully aware of John glaring at her from behind.

John looked around. "Connor! I need you!"

Connor ran over. "What?"

"I need you to weld this sheet." He said. "Here's the torch." Connor took it and started welding. "Now what was so hard about that?" John muttered.

After a few minutes, Grant called John over. John set down the sheet he was carrying and walked over. "What?"

"I wanted to ask what all you needed, so we could discuss what your work for us is worth."

John nodded. "Main thing we need is medicine. Pain pills, disinfectant, gauze, aspirin, basic stuff."

Grant wrote his requests on a clipboard. "Weapon wise?"

"Do you have military weapons?" Grant nodded. "Tristan needs ammo for the Mk 12 SPR. You have that?"

Grant flipped some pages. "As a matter of fact, we do, but no gun to go with them. You can have those. Anything else?"

"Small arms ammunition. We don't need any specific guns, we just need the rounds. We don't need much for food, we have some decent hunters and James knows all the safe plants to eat. We would just need some long lasting stuff, in case we run into a patch where food is scarce."

Grant wrote everything down. "Alright, I think we can do that. Anything else?"

Ryan popped his head around the corner. "Bullet proof glass, please."

Grant nodded, adding it to the list. "I'll double check with Jessie, but I think I can safely say we can get all those things for you." He looked at where Ryan had come from. "Why bullet proof glass?"

"That blue mustang we pulled in with? With the missing windshield? It's supposed to have bullet proof glass for the windows. We recently had to destroy the windshield, and he hasn't been able to find anything to replace it." John answered.

John nodded in thanks, and went back to his blowtorch. Grant looked at the working group. They were making great headway. Time to report.

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Grant walked into the building. The two guards stepped away from the secret door, and after he was safely behind it, he descended the metal stairs.

He stopped in front of the door. It was sealed tight, but the screams could still be heard behind it. Grant knocked, and the screams subsided for a moment, but whoever it had originated from was still groaning in pain. The door swung open, Jessie stood in front of him. "I hope this is important, Grant. The doctor is busy."

"It is, ma'am. I came to inform you that they're making considerable headway with the depot. They're going twice as fast as you predicted, they'll probably be finished by tomorrow night."

Jessie frowned. "How much will be done today?"

They'll probably be a little more than halfway done at the pace they're going."

Jessie thought. "Fine. Take them tonight. Go ahead and see if you can't lure their strongest away now, make it easier on ourselves tonight."

Grant nodded. "Yes ma'am." He turned, and walked away, back to the group.

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John's eye twitched. "Does he ever shut up?"

"I happen to like his singing." Connor responded as he torched the metal sheet John was holding. "And he's singing Disturbed songs. You like that kind of music."

John glared at him. "Yeah, but he's got Ryan singing with him. And he is not good."

As she said that, Tristan and Ryan rounded the corner, carrying a large table, singing in unison. "So sleep soundly in your beds toniiiiiight. Judgement falls upon you at first liiiiiight! I'm the hand of God! I'm the dark messiah! I'm the vengeful oooooone!"

John sighed as they went to the center of the room. "In the blackest moments, of a dying woooorld! What will you becoooooome?!"

James and Alec were carrying in lockers, Sakura was sitting down with Alice for a water break, as both of them had been on the roof in the glaring sun for the last hour. Diego carried a pipe over to Natalie and Rachel, who were adding in the supports. Rachel smiled, scratching Diego's ear as she took the pipe from his mouth. Aaron and Jaina worked on repairing the stairs and ladders. Amber and Sorano were on the roof with David, taking over for Sakura and Alice as they cooled off.

As Tristan and Ryan finished setting up the table, Ryan went to help Rachel and Natalie with the supports. Diego trotted up to Tristan, who rubbed his head. "Working hard?" Diego barked in response. "Good man." Tristan looked over at Sakura and Alice. He tried to avoid looking at the glistening sweat running from Sakura's neck to her crop top. "Hey, can you guys toss us a drink?"

Sakura reached into the cooler they had been provided with, and tossed Tristan a bottle. She covered her mouth to hold back her laugh as Tristan unscrewed the top and crouched down to let Diego drink from the bottle, then raised it to his own mouth.

James didn't find it as funny. "Tristan, that's disgusting."

Tristan raised his eyebrow. "You and I were sharing a bottle just an hour ago."

"Yeah, but neither of us is a dog." James said.

Diego barked in offense. "What does that have to do anything?" Tristan asked, completely serious.

James was dumbfounded. "It's never mind." He stared at Tristan's jacket. "It's nearly a hundred degrees out here, aren't you hot?"

Diego took another drink, followed by Tristan taking another swig. "Yeah, why?" He asked after he had swallowed.

James stared at him. "Nothing, just asking."

Tristan grinned, and motion for Diego to follow him to the second floor.

Grant waked in with two other guards. "Tristan, John, Sakura. Come with us, we need you."

Sakura got up and walked over with Tristan, John joining them halfway.

"John, Kenny needs your help with rather large piece of our armory. A chain gun." Grant said, reading off of a paper. "Sakura, Karen needs your help carrying in some wood we're going to need for the central support. Tristan, you come with me." Grant looked up at them. "I really do appreciate your help, guys, with everyone focusing on the wall we're shorthanded."

Sakura nodded. "Of course. "Let's go, Karen." She said, speaking to the woman.

"Actually, I'm Kenny. He's Karen." She said.

"Oh, sorry, I didn…" Sakura apologized.

The woman smiled. "I'm joking. Come on, wood's this way."

As they headed off, Kenny motioned for John to follow him, John nodded and followed.

"Kenny a man of few words too?" Tristan asked Grant.

"Yeah. Kind of a hardass too, but he's nice enough. Come on." Grant replied, turning and heading for the street.

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"Right around here." Karen said, rounding a corner.

Sakura followed, then froze as she was faced with ten shotguns all aiming at her head, and a stoic Karen. "Sorry, Sakura, Jessie's orders."

Sakura scowled, and in a blur of motion kicked out at Karen, who caught her leg, flipping her to the ground. Sakura pulled her down with her, going to snap her neck, when a guard rammed the butt of his gun into her head.

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John stared at the back of Kenny's head as he was silently led to the chain gun.

"Right around here." Kenny broke the silence, rounding a corner. John paused. Something wasn't right. He hesitated, then peeked around the corner, to see a fist flying at him. John ducked, narrowly missing it, and grabbed the fist, twisting Kenny's arm. He felt a prick at his neck, and pulled away a tranquilizer dart. His vision blurred, and he collapsed.

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Tristan followed Grant. He noticed Grant's demeanor had changed. He was tense.

Tristan stopped. "I don't think you've told me where we're going yet."

Grant stopped, then turned his head to look at him. "You'll see."

Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Awfully far from the construction site, aren't w…" he leapt out of the way as Grant whirled around to fire a tranq gun at him. He ran for Grant, when a dozen guards ran from around the corner, all aiming their guns at him. As he was distracting, Grant reached out, grabbing his neck and squeezing his pressure point. Tristan gripped his arms as his vision went hazy. "You just made the mistake of your life." He growled. Right before he passed out, "I… will kill you… with my bare h… han…" He collapsed.

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Tristan slowly opened his eyes. He tried to move his head, to find he was bolted in place, a metal band clutching his forehead with clamps on the sides of his head. He looked down as far as he could. He was strapped to a table, rough leather that tore at his wrists. He tried to wiggle around, the most he could do was shift his legs and arms. He was trapped. From what he could feel, his weapons were gone. And he was completely alone. There was a metal door at the end of the barren grey room. No window, no bars, just metal.

Unbeknownst to him, outside his room of imprisonment, John and Sakura were both in the exact same position, in their own rooms. All three of them wondering what awaited them.

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After what Tristan guessed to be an hour, there was a creak as the door was edged open, and a man in a white lab coat stepped into the room. He walked over to Tristan's table, and peered at him through his glasses. He was a short man, old looking, with thinning grey hair, and beady black eyes. "Tristan, I presume?" He asked.

Tristan glared at him. "Where are my friends?" He growled.

The man scribbled something on his clipboard. "Interesting. You awake in a strange room, trapped, betrayed by those who offered you hospitality, a man you've never seen before enters the room, and the first thing you ask is about your comrades?"

Tristan scowled. "If you've hurt them, I can promise you your death will be very painful."

The man nodded, scribbling again. "Mm hm. Don't worry, I haven't hurt them. Yet. Don't be fooled, my experiments are painful. Right now, however, I'm simply doing a quick psychological and physical examination."

Tristan kept his scowl. "Let me save you the trouble. I'm murderous and crazy, and very very violent when my friends are hurt. And I'm in peak physical condition, strong enough to rip your shriveled head off when I get out of here."

The man was unfazed. "I see. Well, I have no doubt you're violent. I did have a question, though." He held up Tristan's leather jacket. "The lowest it has been outside today has been 91 degrees Fahrenheit, and yet you were working outside in this. Why?"

"Fuck you." Tristan snarled.

Another scribble. "Perhaps it's a sensory item. You feel exposed and vulnerable when you're not wearing it. Hmm?" Tristan simply glared. "Yes, I'm sure of that. Now, let's try some word association…"

Tristan stared at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

The man smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, actually. That was a joke. Now, I'd just like to conduct my physical."

Tristan realized his clothes were all missing, he was just in his jeans. The doctor gazed at his body. "Well, very healthy body. Covered in scars, though. It seems… bullet and knife wounds. A burn scar, seems like from a small explosion, were you in the military?"

"Navy SEALS. And I was trained to kill people in over a hundred ways with just my bare hands."

"Well, then should you keep your promise of escape, you'll be set." The man quipped. "Alright, that's all for now. I have yet to visit your friends, I will be returning to you in a short while. I think you'll be an interesting specimen."

Tristan tried in vain to raise his head as the man left. "Hey, you bastard! Don't you fucking touch them! I will spill your blood on the floor, you hear me?!" The door closed. "Stay away from them!"

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John gazed around the room for anything to help him. Nothing. Just barren metal.

He heard the door open, and tried to crane his neck to see who had entered. A small old man walked over to him. "And you must be John. Say, you look familiar? Are you John Nilsson? I was a fan of wrestling in the old world."

John scowled at him. "Where are my friends? Where am I? And who the hell are you?"

The man seemed surprised. "Hmm. Just like your friend, the soldier, your first question is of your friend's whereabouts? I must commend you, you people seem very loyal to one another. I wonder if the girl will be the same?" He wondered aloud.

John said nothing, glaring at the man. He had already worked out that Tristan and Sakura had also been captured. So this asshole had already spoken to Tristan. "You better hope I don't escape."

The man nodded. "Yes, Tristan said basically the same thing, though his version was a bit more colorful and violent. No matter, though. You won't escape. Oh, and as for your friends, they have not yet been harmed, and won't be until I start my experiments. But as for now, I simply wish to do a psychological and physical examination."

John remained silent, intent on not cooperating. The man simply stared at John. "You are much quieter than your friends. Though I don't get the feeling that you're thinking, rather you're simply trying to be difficult by not speaking. However, that has provided me with the information I need. As for the physical, your body is honed and healthy. Those years as a wrestler paid off, eh? You probably have a high pain threshold. Well, that will be all for now. I will visit you again."

With that, he turned, and exited the room, John plotting exactly how he was going to kill this man.

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Sakura was defenseless, and fully aware of her lack of clothing. Her shirt had been removed, thankfully not her bra, aside from that she was in just her jeans.

A man entered, and looked at her. "Where are my friends?" She asked.

The man grinned. "Amazing. Most people ask where they are, or who I am. Almost never 'where are my friends?' That was also the first thing I was asked by your friends."

Sakura glared at him. "Well? Where are they?"

"Same as you, in rooms just like these. Unharmed as of yet, though that will soon change. For now, a psychological and physical examination."

Sakura scowled. "Fuck you." She spat.

"Mm. You share Tristan's language. Though you have yet to be as violent."

She tensed. "Don't touch him. Or John."

The man raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I must. And I will be doing the same to you."

She scowled. "You will regret this." She smirked. "I would imagine he already threatened you, but I've seen Tristan do some graphic things. I think me getting you before him would be a blessing for you."

The man kept his smile, scribbling on his clipboard. "I see. He is a promising subject, it will be interesting to see what it takes to tame him."

Sakura glared at him. "Good luck with that. None of us can be tamed."

His smile grew. "We will certainly see, won't we? Now, the physical examination."

"Don't you dare touch me." She hissed, trying to arch away.

"Relax, contact is not necessary. Your body is healthy, tone. You're a strong woman." He put the clipboard under his arm. "Well, I'd say the exams are done. Now for the fun part." His smile was unsettling. "I will see you shortly."

He headed for the door, when Sakura called out, "Who the fuck are you?"

He grinned as he closed the door. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. Call me Dr. Harper." With that, the door closed, a sharp clang as the lock slid into place.

Review! The next chapter should be along soon! In fact, because I've been on a writing roll, with any luck it may be posted later today! I may have too much free time on my hands.