"What do you see?" Katherine's voice came from the earpiece. It lay on the concrete floor, surrounded by rubble. Abandoned by Its owner and surrounded by crashing boots and metal feet.
"Clearing area, sir." A muffled electronic voice resounded through the safehouse's crumbling brick wall.
"They call this place Hangman's Alley." An unfamiliar voice spoke suddenly. Mark, the site operator of Enclave Safehouse 00e4ab groaned as he attempted to sit up. He looked at the stump that was his left arm seconds ago. He coughed, adrenaline causing blood to pump through his veins and arteries causing his head to pound. A concrete slab sunk itself through Mark's knees. He attempted to sit up to move the slab. A man walked in, saw Mark and smashed the butt of his rifle against Mark's jaw. Mark fell to his back, vision blurry and pounding head.
"Sir, I've got one here." The man said. Mark coughed once again as the dust settled and his vision began to clear. His arm was now throbbing with an indescribable pain. Mark looked to his left and saw the empty blue eyes of a fellow Enclave operator. The man's head was cracked open, likely by the fallen concrete column that lay on top of his torso. Some heavy footsteps later, Mark turned to his let and found dirty, brown leather boots. He looked up at a face he knew too well.
"Maxson." Mark croaked. Maxson dropped to a knee and sighed. He inspected Mark's left shoulder and fondled the Enclave patch that Mark wore proudly on top of his officer's uniform.
"So the Enclave has returned." Maxson whispered. "To the Commonwealth, no less. This can't be an accident." Maxson grabbed Mark's officer tags. A small plastic sheet worn around Mark's neck, acting a sort of dog tag. "Mark." Maxson nodded as he scrutinized the tag. "I am sorry you came under fire from our attack. We were tracking a high-tech radio signal that we've associated with the Institute. And now it seems we have found you thanks to that." Mark grunted as he instinctively attempted to reach for his pistol; only to discover that he could no longer reach it due to his lack of a right arm.
"Prepare a vertibird. We're taking this one with us." Maxson sighed. He tapped on Mark's shoulder. "You'll be in good hands, Mark. You're with the Brotherhood now."