"I thought… I thought you were dead. The rooftop, and Pyotr, he…"
Blufor smiled warmly at his brother in arms; two veterans and two friends, separated by this inhumane and vicious world, finally reunited… and at that, two tempered and savage commandos who could easily turn the tide in the Eagle's nest. The red-rings had efficiently and covertly assimilated into the township, in complete silence. They had assumed and calculated every outcome, probed every possibility, and even worn disguise to maintain their masquerade. Despite these extravagant and almost overcomplicated precautions, Ellie was sure that Adam had pulled together all the reinforcements they needed.
"Technically, I was." Blufor replied, lifting the corpse of the nearest red-ring and lazily tossing it over the rusted steel railing and into the pool of sluice below. "I was about to kick the bucket when Pyotr and his lackeys just… left."
"Left?" Adam replied, baffled by the situation.
"That's what I thought; weird, right?" He brushed past her and Carlos, and sat down around the red-ring's tiny fire in the room by the exit, looked Joel over quickly, and continued his narrative as Adam took up residence opposite him.
"Anyway, the bomb we planted went up and wrecked their convoy, barring a few SUVs they had there." Slowly, everyone else in the room took their places around the small fire. She sat next to Joel, and leaned in to his strong body, the fire and his warmth slowly draining the fatigue from hers. The big man glanced down at her, smiled, and turned his head back to listen to Blufor.
"A handful of them had flanked me, and Pyotr was already on his way to finish me off. He burst in to the room, looked at me, and walked out with his men when he saw you'd escaped. He just left me there to bleed out, the detonator for the C4 still in my hand."
Ellie interrupted the recital, curious for more information.
"A bomb? Why? How damn big was their set-up?"
Adam answered her query.
"Big. They had a few eighteen-wheelers, and a few SUVs with weapons. They were shifting all their kit, and setting up shop somewhere else. The entirety of their personnel were there. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up."
"You planned on killing them all?"
"Pyotr, primarily." Adam replied. "It'd been eight long years after he'd lost his shit, after he'd-"
The big man suddenly stopped, grimaced, and clenched his fists. Blufor picked up on the hurt and gently rested his hand on the Watcher's shoulder.
"It's okay, Adam."
Adam shuddered. "No, it isn't." He opened his eyes and looked at his squad mate. "It's time I got over this."
He returned his gaze to the fire, hesitated, but eventually continued. The rest of the audience was listening attentively.
"It was eight years after he'd murdered Skye, Welsh and… and Joanna. Both of us were driven by our rage. Both of us wanted him dead."
"And both of us walked into an ambush." Blufor added.
The idea that both Blufor and Adam were enraged and skillfully wielding powerful weaponry was an idea that made goosebumps shoot up Ellie's spine faster and colder than any bullet. It was almost as if they were the embodiment of fatality; they would've been ruthless alongside their discipline and cleverness. She was almost shocked at the premise that Pyotr had managed to weasel his way out of his assured date with death.
"Anyway... we were under heavy fire from mounted heavy machine guns, and men were pushing up. Adam took the coupe we'd built together, although not willingly."
Adam huffed. "You're damn right I wasn't willing."
"I kicked him out anyway. He was too valuable to die."
Adam said nothing, only staring into the fire and rolling around in deep thought, transfixed, mulling the past over in his head. It was clear that Blufor's sacrifice had a significant toll on the Scotsman.
"What happened afterward?" This time, Joel was the inquirer.
"I slipped in and out of consciousness for a few days, in that spot. Eventually, some folks passed through and saw the wreckage. Luckily they searched it, instead of skirting around the outside. They found me, picked me up, and got me healthy again. From there I went south for a few years, staying off the radar, especially due the the fact Pyotr was snooping about."
"South?" Joel asked, intruiged. "How far?"
Blufor shrugged. "I never had a map. I think I ended up in Boston, once. The military had a big set-up there, but... I'd had enough of the Army for one lifetime. Plus, they were getting attacked constantly by that militia group from the beginning that I'd completely forgotten about... what was it again?"
"Fireflies." Joel answered, informing Blufor.
"Right." He added. "Anyway, I couldn't fathom that bunch. Heard things good and bad."
Ellie noticed Joel hugging her a little more protectively than he had before the mention of the Fireflies.
"We've had our share of run-ins with them." Joel stated. "Let's just say that they ain't all the heroic propaganda makes them out to be."
Blufor nodded courteously, and then turned his head to Adam.
"I'm surprised you weren't down there fighting them, Watcher."
"I had something else to take care of. Well... someone else."
The Scotsman met his old friend's gaze.
"How long have you known I was the Watcher?"
Blufor shrugged. "I didn't, until you appeared at the cell. I'd actually been looking for the Watcher, with Amber. We knew they were coming; their operations had been spreading out, vastly. Then, not a week later, rumors about a Scottish vigilante with military training hitting one of their main bases started entering the gates with the people he'd saved, and Amber and I started to make the connection. I couldn't believe it was you, though, not until I'd seen you for myself. Unfortunately, they tossed me in that jail the moment they found out I had military training, and my search was cut off. Funnily enough, you came to me."
The conversation came to an end, and everyone sat around the fire in silence, gazing deeply into the miniscule, flickering, golden-coated flames. The fire gave off a light and warm orange glow that flushed skin with colour and gave eyes a peculiar and iridescent sheen. Joel's fatherly embrace warmed her more than the fire ever could. Something big was coming; she could feel it. Soon, all of their mettle would be tested in the most extreme way imaginable, and she couldn't shake the overwhelming fear that it gave her. The Eagle's nest would be a bloodbath before the end, part of her knew.
Blufor spoke up again, shattering the silence like the bullet that shattered Buck's firing hand.
"You said you were looking after someone?" He asked Adam.
He chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that. She looks after me, more like."
"I look forward to meeting her. I always did get the girls; it's good to hear you got a go for once."
Adam turned his head to Blufor, a wry smile stretched across his face.
"You always were modest, Blufor."
The squadmate replied with a hand on his heart, feigning being stricken.
Adam stood, smiling, a plan formulating in his head.
"But you will, don't worry. She'll be eager to meet you. First, though..." He gestured up the pipe Ellie and the others had traversed to get here. "We need to deal with the situation up there."
"Damn right." Carlos said, standing also. He was slightly shorter than the big Scotsman. "You got a plan, man?"
"I think so." Adam stated, drawing out a piece of paper from the inside of his stolen jacket and handing it to Blufor.
"A letter from Amber, to me. I'd date it written about three weeks ago. How long has she been missing?"
Blufor remained seated, simply opening the letter and pouring over the content inside.
"Just over two." He replied, not looking up from the yellowed paper.
"Then we can assume it was the red-rings."
Blufor stood, folded the letter up carefully, like it were fragile, and handed it back to the Watcher.
"It was definitely the red-rings. And, for the record?"
Blufor reached into one of the pockets of his khakis and drew out a large and ornate pin, almost like a medal. It was an enameled red circle, made of two coiling and winding snakes, with a sword lying perpendicular to the top. He tossed it lazily onto the box he'd just been sitting on, allowing everyone a clear view. The blood-red, enameled metal shone dully in the firelight.
"They're called Martyrdom, by the civilians in these parts."
Adam scoffed.
"Pyotr always had a taste for the dramatic, didn't he?"
Blufor nodded, and replied, although changing the topic and disregarding Adam's statement. That spoke volumes to Ellie about his hatred towards the man; it may even rival Adam's, despite the Scotsman's ill attempt at comic relief.
"We need Amber before we can take this place back. She's the only one who was ever able to keep it stable. Unfortunately... I have no clue where they've taken her."
Ellie remembered something from the prison, and addressed the Watcher.
"Weren't you at an Intel meeting?"
"I was." Adam said, a look of annoyance flashing across his face. "Bloody waste of time. It practically just an argument about whiskey and guard duty. That's how I managed to get down here in time; I walked out early."
"So we don't have a lead?" She asked.
Adam glanced at the corpses of the red-rings they'd slain, and then returned his gaze to Ellie.
"I guess not."
"I'm sure there's more where they came from." Joel added, standing. Ellie stood with him, keeping her arm wrapped around his back. She still wasn't sure what to make of Blufor, and feeling Joel next to her gave her all the security she needed.
Carlos' eyes lit up at Joel's comment.
"Exactly! One of them has gotta know where they're keeping Amber."
Blufor spoke. "You're not suggesting-"
"We find ourselves some more volunteers." Joel stated, the word all too familiar with him in this new world. His tone was almost trivial; it seemed as if the scenario would be easy for him, while Ellie shuddered at the thought. She watched as the mens' faces grew darker as they realised what they had to do.
"Remember how to Water Board?" Adam muttered quitely Blufor.
Blufor replied with a small and subtle nod. He turned slightly, and addressed the rest of the group. "We'd better get moving. Dump the corpses into the sewage and see what you can dig up in here. We move in five."
Adam didn't contest Blufor's taking of the leadership role, despite a wary look from Joel; he simply nodded and began looking around. Joel eventually followed suit, and soon they were ransacking the small set-up the Martyrdom soldiers had prepared in the pump station. The search was incredibly quick and efficient with five people, and they'd uncovered more than what they'd needed very quickly. She had found some food, and a half-used pack of paracetamol, which she slipped straight into her back pocket. The two veterans and Carlos had an unfruitful search, while Joel had hit the treasure trove; he'd found locked in a closet two low-calibre sniper rifles and a handful of tranquilliser darts, of which would make their trap considerably easier to pull off.
They gathered their things, snuffed out the fire,and exited the pump station, carefully sealing the door behind them and moving up the concrete stairway to return to the cool air and purple-black of the night. It was very late, now; the night was at its darkest, and would prove perfect for luring red-rings into an ironic trap.
They walked for about half an hour in silence, before the brilliant white of the spotlights on the walls of the town came back into focus. The journey had been incredibly short compared to what they'd endured in the pipes, and Ellie almost thought they'd wound up somewhere else until she saw the pistols on the holsters of two gate-guards positioned idly in front of an improvised metal gate.
They came to a halt about four hundred meters away from the postern gate, of which was woefully undermanned; the two lackeys stood half-heartedly gazing into the night, obviously suffering from fatigue, and not overlooked by any men on the wall. Adam took the two rifles from Blufor, gave the old friend his assault rifle, and handed one of the guns to Joel, the other to her.
"Here you go, Tex." He said simply.
"Hey, what?" Carlos piped up in a loud whisper. "Why ain't I getting a gun?"
"They're firing darts, not bullets. We need neck shots." She could see Carlos wasn't swayed by Adam's counter of his objection. "She's good, trust me."
"I'm good, I... ah, screw it." The dark-skinned man went prone in the trees, sulking.
He brought Blufor over to them both, and gestured to a small clearing in the trees where a campfire had burned a while past.
"I'm going to bring them there, okay?" They all nodded. "Now, it's time for a lesson in codewords."
Ellie couldn't help herself. "Cool." She said, intrigued. Joel smiled lightly.
"What do you want us to do?" He asked.
"Easy." Adam replied. "I'll be Sticks again. I'll go and talk to them, and draw them out here. If I say the word 'contacts', that means that it's safe to engage the targets. Neck shots with the darts, and they'll go down."
"What else?" Joel asked again.
"If I say 'tangos', Blufor takes them down, and we run. Clear?"
"Clear." Ellie blurted, not realising how daft her saying the word sounded until it'd come out of her mouth.
Adam seemed not to notice, and pulled down his balaclava.
"Alright. Ready?"
"Born ready." She heard Blufor mutter. "Go get 'em, Gunny."
Adam pressed a button on the side of the radio attached to his lapel, and spoke clearly, in that same feigned yet practically perfect American accent.
"Martyr Base, Martyr Base, over."
After a few seconds, the radio fizzled into life. She worried about the noise travelling to the guards, but the voice that issued from the radio was significantly quieter than she'd expected; she had to listen closely to discern the words.
"Martyr Base, go ahead."
"Sticks, back from scouting."
"Hey, Sticks. Find anything?"
"Shit all, as usual. Tell the two sleepyheads on the east gate that I'm coming in. Don't really want to be turned into a pin-cushion."
"I'll let them know, over."
"Thanks. Out."
The radio died again. She watched attentively from behind the cover of young trees, observing the two fatigued guards at the gate to the town. She saw one of them stir, listen, and then talk into his radio. Their gaze turned over to the forest, and she pressed herself low against the floor, unmoving, as to not draw attention to herself. Blufor, Joel, and Carlos were all prone, looking inward to the clearing. Adam donned his balaclava sprinted out of the forest wall, over to the gate. His haste immediately set the two guards on edge. She watched them conversing; he was acting, pretending that he'd been jumped. The trap was being set as they spoke, literally. She picked up the odd word from the conversation, and rotated around to face the clearing as they moved back over, the guards' two assault rifles at the ready. Adam followed behind, puffing, still playing his role. Luckily for them, neither of the guards had flashlights. Batteries proved to be in incredibly short supply nowadays.
She could hear Adam conversing with the guards as they drew closer.
"... just around this corner, the bastards were. They jumped me and took my fucking gun, I only just got that goddamn thing fixed."
"You know how it is, Sticks." The first guard replied.
"Unlucky is what it is." The second guard replied, lifting his gun. "Look at this beauty! SCAR-H, from before the shit went south! Got it off some stupid bastards we shot for their food a week or so ago. The guy tried to negotiate with me, can you fucking believe it?"
Adam sighed. "No, I can't believe it..." He said sarcastically as they reached the centre of the clearing. "To think, anyone would talk to you? Hilarious."
"Hey, what's that supposed to-"
"Leave it, man." The first guard said. "He's just fucking with you."
"Fucking with you?" Adam countered. "After some guy jumped me? What, you think I'm stupid? They could have their sights trained on you right now."
Ellie picked up on Adam's inference, and trained the crosshair of the scope on the thick flesh of the second guard's neck.
"There ain't no one here, Sticks." The second guard stated. "You sure there are guys after you?"
"Course I am."
"Maybe you need glasses."
Adam turned to them, and chuckled.
"No, I think I'd prefer contacts." He said.
The codeword, hidden neatly in a pun. She admired Adam's subtlety.
A hiss emanated from her right, and the first guard was struck in the neck and went down. She'd hesitated long enough for the second guard to realise what'd happened. She panicked and fired, but miscalculated, and the dart hit the man's collar and bounced off, trivially deflected by the thick material. He'd felt the force of the impact, however.
"Shit!" She blurted.
"What the fuck?" The guard said, turning and training his assault rifle right on her, where he'd heard the noise. Her heart rose high in her throat as they made eye contact.
The man didn't even have time to click his safety off before Adam's collosal fist crashed into the side of his neck, and he went sprawling to the floor, a disgusting crackling sound coming out of his mouth.
"Sticks." He managed between ragged gasps, his voice hoarse. "What the fu-"
Adam's boot met the man's face, and he went limp. She thought Adam had killed the man, until she heard his ragged inhalation through his now broken nose.
Adam peeled the balaclava off of his face, and the masquerade of Sticks vanished immediately.
"Let's go." He uttered, scooping the guard he'd incapacitated up and slinging him over his shoulders, while Blufor handed Carlos the automatic rifle and picked the other up, doing the same.
They left the clearing having left no sign they'd ever been there; Ellie was impressed by the efficiency of Adam and Blufor's trap, but she also burned with shame at the fact she'd missed her shot. Despite her blatant mistake, no one had flagged her for it, not even Adam. She especially hoped that Joel hadn't noticed her slip-up, as blatant as it had been.
The weight of the 22. Rifle in her hands began to register, and she felt a wave of fatigue washing over her body as they began to slink away from the perimeter of the Eagle's nest, slowly, trekking their way back to the pump station. She didn't think it were safe for them to return there after their encounter with the border patrol, but as vaguely familiar landmarks passed her by she had no doubt they were heading back to the tiny station at the end of the stinking, foul escape route.
Her legs pained her, and there was a horrible, uncomfortable knit in the lower-left reaches of her back, presumably a result of her position when she'd been unconscious. It tweaked agonisingly every time she bent the wrong way, causing her to gasp, and for Joel to turn around every now and again, wearing a look of concern.
Eventually, he moved backwards and strode strongly and surely next to her as they made progress. The two younger men carried their captives by the arms with Carlos accompanying them, dragging the guards' geared-up and limp bodies through the soft debris littering the floor of the small wood. The man who had been knocked out more forcibly stirred halfway through the journey, only to be met with another blow to the head. This one was executed with more precision and less power, but yielded the same incapacitating effects. Blufor struck the man on his right temple, and all the tension in his body dissipated almost immediately, allowing Adam to continue heaving him through the dirt. Ellie mulled briefly on the size of the headache the man would bear when he awakened, but then quickly realised that a migraine would be the least of his concerns.
With the time they took walking, she took the chance to see what'd happened to Joel; the lines in his face grew ever deeper, and his eyes darker as his hair was gradually being taken over by swathes of grey. Despite his resilience and his almost unstoppable strength, she could now see what Carlos had discussed earlier. Despite easily keeping pace with the other three men his younger, his breathing was heavier, and more ragged. The world they lived in was incredulous in the regard of mercy; how much longer would it be until he needed to stop living like a vagabond? How much longer would it be until he wasn't around to look after her any more?
Before she realised what'd happened, she'd stopped walking. Adam, Blufor and Carlos hadn't noticed, and continued walking away from her. Joel stood a few meters in front of her, turning to face her. Beads of glistening sweat were visible cascading down the structuring of his face.
"What's the hold-up?" He asked.
"I... I just." She began, stuttering over her words. Should she ask him now what his plan was as he grew older? Should she ask him to run away from this with her, and go back to Tommy's, where he could grow old in relative peace?
"I just needed to think about what they're gonna do to those guards." What actually came out of her mouth wasn't what she wanted; she could see the lines of suspicion in Joel's expression, the sign that he thought something more was going on with her.
"You don't need to be seeing nothing like that, kiddo." He sighed, and continued. "That isn't all, huh?"
Should she ask?
"Joel..." She began, her heart rising high in her throat. "What are we doing here?"
"We're goin' to that pump station, remember?"
"No." She replied, more forcefully than she would've liked. She saw him flinch slightly, taken aback by her tone. "What are we doing here?"
Joel practically read her mind.
He exhaled. "You mean about leaving Tommy's."
Her anger, desperation, tension and despair all welled up inside of her and exploded out, cascading in a tidal wave of raw emotion.
"You're damn right I mean about leaving Tommy's! I was in school, you had a job, we had food and shelter, friends... and what? You decide we're better off slinking about with some fucking strangers we know nothing about, eating shitty food we find in old cabinets and picking a fight with some goddamn syndicate? That your idea of a good life, Joel?"
He didn't reply to her outburst, and only stood there, brooding. That enraged her more than any insulting reply could've.
"Well, Joel? A good fucking life, huh?"
"Stop it." He replied bluntly, his voice quiet and low. A sense of intimidation crept up her spine, but she pushed it down, determined to get to his core.
"Stop what?" She walked right up to him. "This shit is dangerous, Joel. How many times have we almost died up here? We're not what we were once. I don't know if I can survive it, and you know what?"
"What?" He inquired with the same menacing tone.
"I'm not even sure you could survive it. Not any more."
Her meaning struck home, she saw it in the change of his expression.
"The hell are you saying?"
"I'm saying it was fucking stupid of us to leave. I'm too young, and you're too-"
"Don't."
"Too damn old!" Tears had stained pearlescent lines into her cheeks that shone dully in the light of the moon.
She saw him forcibly swallow his anger. He leaned inwards slightly, intimidating her. She thought for a horrific moment that she had pushed him too far; she wanted to tell him to leave with her, not make him leave on his own.
"Too damn old, huh?" He asked. "Too damn old to get you out of Boston? Too damn old to get you outta that hospital? Too damn old to-"
She interrupted, her voice cracking slightly as the words emerged.
"To tell me why we really left Tommy's, and drop this 'we needed to move on' bullshit!"
He froze for a moment, and then ascended back to his full height.
"I ain't talking about that," he began, his voice quivering surprisingly noticeably. "I... I can't."
"Why not?"
"Ellie... I can't."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because it ain't for you to hear!" He shouted at her. She saw a silhouette in the background stand up, and look at them. The outline was a familiar shape.
"Everything okay back there?" Adam hollered.
Joel moved closer to her.
"It ain't for you to hear." He said again, this time under his breath. "Ever."
With that, he turned and left her standing there, waving Adam off with a gesture instead of a vocal reply, traipsing away tensely. She brushed the tears from her eyes and followed, watching him push past the Scotsman without a word, leaving Adam looking quizzically in his wake.
"What's up with him?" He asked when she reached where he was standing.
"Nothing." She lied. "He's fine."
Adam wore the same look of suspicion. Lying to smart people wasn't the easiest of gambits. Still, he accepted her response, and placed his hand on her back, ushering her forward as he began to stride, making up the ground between him and the captives, now being carried by Carlos and Blufor.
"We're almost back." He began. "Now the real fun begins."
"Do you think we'll get anything out of them?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. They're perimeter guards, so they might have an idea of troop placements in the area."
"Who says Amber is in the area?"
"No one." Adam admitted. "Although, it would be incredibly inefficient in these times to keep a prisoner under guard a long distance away from a base of operations. She's nearby; I'm sure of it."
She pondered for a moment on Adam's methods of obtaining the aforementioned information.
"They're not just going to tell you where she is."
He sighed.
"I know. It's going to take more than that."
"How much more? That 'water-boarding' thing you mentioned?"
"You heard that? Unfortunately, yes, if they're unwilling to answer my questions. If that's the case, then... I don't want you in there. It's not exactly pleasant."
"No." She interjected. "I can handle it."
"Ellie-"
"I can handle it."
He nodded courteously. "Only if you're sure."
She walked in silence next to Adam, the assault rifle draped lazily over his muscular back. Gazing forward through the darkness were the others, carrying the captive red-rings; Joel never looked back, only ploughing ahead in front of Carlos and Blufor, his walk tense and perturbed. After what seemed like an age, the crisp yet dim light of the moon highlighted the stairwell that led them down into the pump station. The rusted, red and orange speckled door screeched open, and the rag-tag group piled inside, dumped their weapons, and began preparing for the business ahead.
The fire had all but burned out; Carlos busied himself relighting it while Joel took point, leading the two other men and their prisoners through the small, dilapidated and damp offices and assessing rooms until they came across a food storage pantry sealed by a large, noise-cancelling metal door, all of its contents long having been scavenged by the Eagle's Nest. The walls were pristine stainless steel, that had obviously been kept clean by the border guards; despite it being for a pump-station, the sewerage works had been manned judging by the bunks they passed on their short walk, and the presence of this pantry alluded to night shifts being a necessity before the apocalypse.
The room was small, but not constricting; there was enough room for three small metal chairs, and a stainless steel flat-topped trolley that Joel had deftly wheeled into the centre of the room. They had standing room, and enough space to pace up and down.
Initially, the two captives were bound to each of the metal chairs with the handcuffs they carried on their persons as standard issue. Adam took the single seat opposite them, with Blufor standing behind him. Joel moved over to a solitary corner in the room and stood there, scowling at no one in particular.
Blufor pulled a small syringe out of his ammo pouch, different to the dart she had loaded into her rifle; this one was blue, where hers had been red. Some chemistry jargon that she didn't understand was sprawled messily up the side of the tube.
"Ready to wake him up?" Blufor asked Adam.
"Only this one." He said, leaning forward to the smaller of the two men, the one that Joel had taken down. "Unfortunately, there isn't a chemical counter for boot to the face."
"Chemical counter?" She asked.
Blufor turned to address her.
"Yeah. The stuff they use is basically the same as general anaesthetic."
"General what?"
He smiled lightly. "Right, my bad. In hospitals before the Infection, people used to get operations to fix problems they had. Sometimes they were knocked out so they went to sleep and had no idea the operation was even happening until it was over. This stuff can wear off, but it takes a long time for the body to get rid of it. If you want it done quickly, you use a chemical that counters the effects."
"She nodded politely, satisfied with her answer. Adam was about to press the point of the syringe into the man's wrist when he hesitated, and turned to her.
"Are you sure you want to be in here?"
"Yes." She replied.
"Last chance."
"I'm sure."
He chose not to acknowledge her, simply turning and administering the counter to the guard who'd sustained the least injury. Sure enough, only a few minutes after the counter had been absorbed into the man's bloodstream, he began stirring.
"Wha... I don't, what's going..." The man uttered.
Blufor gently slapped the man on the cheek, rousing him to his senses.
"Wake up, sunshine." He said sarcastically.
The man slowly regained his senses, opened his eyes, and observed both Adam and Blufor. Eventually he realised his friend was sitting restrained next to him with a horrendously badly broken nose, and almost became hysterical.
"Wha, I don't... what the fuck?" He turned his eyes on Adam. "Sticks, Sticks is that you? What the hell is going on?"
Adam leaned in slightly to address the man. He spoke normally, his gentle Scottish accent taking centre stage.
"I hate to break it to you, but 'Sticks' isn't here."
Realisation hit the man immediately. His frightened expression reflected off the gleaming walls and floor, the situation seeming all too eerily familiar to Adam, Blufor and Joel.
"But... the fuck, man? Why would you do this to us?"
"I'm going to make this simple for you." Adam stated. "I'm a pretty nice guy, yeah? I like to talk to people, to find out what they're like... nice and peacefully."
"Peacefully..." The guard uttered in disbelief.
"My friends, here," He gestured to Adam and Blufor, "aren't as forgiving, are you boys?"
Blufor shook his head, and Joel cut viciously into the man with his eyes as he met his gaze.
"Therefore, I get to my main point. That town you're in isn't yours, is it?"
The man didn't respond, only keeping his mouth clenched shut and quivering in his seat.
"My friend." Adam began again. "I don't think you understand the severity of this situation."
"I... I ain't telling you anything, bro."
Adam briefly glanced downward, only to raise his head sharply and don a menacing smile as he played his high hand.
"Would you tell the Watcher?"
The man broke upon realising who he was conversing with.
"No, fuck no, it ain't our town!"
Adam nodded as the man stuttered and quivered nervously.
"Perhaps you'd like to tell me whose town it is?"
"I... I don't know!"
"I think you do."
"I don't! Some chick, Jade, Onyx or some shit?"
"Amber."
"That's it, yeah!" He sobbed gently. "Fuck, the fucking Watcher..."
Adam gently tapped the man under the chin, bringing his gaze back up.
"Concentrate, please." He continued. "So, we've established that it's Amber who owns the town. You took her, you and your syndicate, didn't you?"
"Yes..." The man sobbed. "Yes, yes we did..."
"Where?" Adam asked.
The word hit the man like a tonne of concrete. He stared at Adam in horror, his face completely white.
"I... I can't tell you. Simon, Simon will fucking kill me, I..."
"We'll kill you, too." Blufor added, only to be silenced at a gesture from Adam.
"You need to tell me where." Adam said, ignoring the comment.
"I can't, God... fuck, I can't..."
"Now."
"I can't tell you, man, please, just..."
"Last chance."
"I... I can't."
Adam relented his attempts, and turned to Blufor.
"Plan B." He said. His squadmate left the room, sealing the door behind him, and Joel moved over to help Adam heave the restrained man upwards, laying him on his back on top of the trolley, still bound to the thin metal chair. The man whimpered like a lost puppy the entire time, his noises of fear only increasing in intensity when Blufor re-entered the room, two plastic buckets filled to the brim with water in each of his hands, and a large bathroom towel slung over his right shoulder.
As Blufor approached the man, Adam moved away, gently taking her by the shoulder and moving her back toward the large metal door, away from the interrogation. She was quickly ushered by the Scotsman, and didn't resist his guidance, knowing her efforts would be futile. They reached the door and began opening it as the towel went over the man's head, and Joel raised one of the buckets.
"No, no! God, please... no, don't... I can't.. I can't tell you!" The man said desperately in between whimpers.
The sounds of pouring water and a tortured gurgling were cut off by the door as its plastic seals found their place, shutting firmly into the wall. The Scotsman began to lead her away from the room where she knew full well horrors would unfold, trying to keep as much of her innocence intact as possible. Part of her wanted to kick and protest, but the part that displayed itself was silently grateful for his consideration. They walked in silence, away from the interrogation.