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Post by Slade Wilson - Deathstroke SS on Jul 22, 2015 5:32:04 GMT
"PRISONER! UP AND AT'EM!"
The word "prisoner" was something I had yet to get used to hearing being thrown in my direction. For years I had served a rightful cause, I was a man who saved countries time and time again. Being labeled as a prisoner due to what I've done, frankly, was irritating and I wanted to crush the larynx of the fellow who shouted in my direction ---- disrupting my rest, and watch him die. And to think that it wasn't that long that I was the one serving justice, I was the one that once did their jobs. Now, I was reduced to being a shackled prisoner in bright orange, being relocated to a new location against my wishes.
"Where are you taking me?" I said, knowing that the odds of getting an answer were slim to none.
"Don't worry about it," remarked one of the guards who was in the process of filing me out of the area. "You're on a need to know basis and right now? All you need to know is you're going to be going to a new home, one that's hot and you're probably going to get eaten alive by giant god-damned mosquitos."
Despite the rage that ran through my body, I was... helpless, not a feeling I quite enjoyed. With five guards in-charge of transferring me, all equipped with semi-automatic firearms, to stage a protest would be foolish. If there was anyway out of this situation, right now was definitely not that, I would need to bid my time and case the surroundings to figure out the next step.
"Nice to know," my reply was dripping with sarcasm, all as I had visions of the five men escorting me from the area I've called home for the last few years dripping with blood.
"Shut up and keep moving! We've been told prompted on your ability prisoner, the less you say, the faster this moves along!"
My eyes fell onto the guard's name-tag but sadly there was not useful information placed upon it. Instead, all five men from what I had managed to see was labeled simply as "A.R.G.U.S." as if they had sold their personal lives out to be one with the unit. I knew that they liked to hire 'company-men' but this was rather ridiculous, how could I plan my revenge if I had no name of the targets? This went totally against my training and tactical thinking, they made it hard for me but the challenge was near orgasmic. One would not fully understand how sweet revenge tasted, not even indulging in carnal desire could compete. I believed that every man should experience taking the life of another, whether it be through a gun-shot or stab-wound. That was a real rush, it would allow a man to embrace primitive love.
"How long is the vacation.." I muttered, the guards still didn't seem keen on answering me. "... I mean the last thing I'd want to do is show up unprepared for the party and all..." letting off another bit of speech laced with sarcasm,
I smiled as they shoved me along. It wasn't before long that I was back in a cage, this time on a plane, I was afterall a dangerous fugitive. I wondered why it was A.R.G.U.S. that was taking control of my freedom however, that was the one part that surprised me. I was no 'super human,' I was an ordinary man, one that had the taste for blood and violence, but it was warranted. It was all I knew after all, my life would be quite hollow without it. Due to the uncertainty with the situation, I was unable to catch rest on the plane-ride and decided that I would use an old trick in the book to figure out where I was. The total came out to be roughly 62,100 seconds from lift off to landing --- from where I was located, I was somewhere in the South of the United States, maybe eastern Texas or even southern Mississippi. The least they could of done to make my trip comfortable was give me a window seat so I could see where I was, it'd give me peace of mind but I had a feeling that's the last thing they wanted from me. Keeping a soldier on edge was how they generated the anxiety --- that same anxiety would lead to rage, and rage would bring death. Thus was the life of a soldier, there was nothing more that could be expected.
"So mate, I know we're in the U.S. but I haven't figured out where. Somewhere in the South I predict --- care to give me a hint?"
One of the guards wearing a black beanie turned to me and shrugged his shoulders, looking to finally give me an answer. Before he could say anything however, the plane made quite the landing --- the pilot obviously needed more classes in sticking a proper closing. They didn't allow the engine and propellers to die before the door opened and folded down, once the smell hit my nostrils I instantly knew where I was and let off a toothy grin which the guards couldn't understands.
"Ahh, swampland --- In the Bayou! Louisiana, how I've missed you." said with the intent to catch the guards off-guard, I was successful.
They had been told of my knowledge of geography with the ability to identify most areas by smell alone, but as I was escorted from the plane out into the open, I looked around and my thoughts were confirmed --- we were in Louisiana. I instantly didn't know where in Louisiana I was, but as I moved forward and noticed the different wildlife within the area, I knew it was Southern Louisiana, a truly interesting turn of events. It wasn't long before I was led away from the plane and towards a concrete building that definitely stood out due to it's surroundings.
"Wanna take a guess where you're at now, inmate?!" one of the guards said, the others got a laugh at his expense as I didn't bother.
Continuing forward, I moved through a high-tech, electrified gate that was used by Supermax prisons through the world. Fireflies moved through the area, a few dragon-flies as well all as I was taken into the building. Heading straight for a cage where a man sat behind, this fellow had on a white shirt with a black combat vest over and reached forward --- sliding his finger over the touch-screen computer before him.
"Inmate number ONE-NINE-TWO-THREE is going through processing. Would you like counsel with him now or later?" spoke the guard all as he reached up and pressed the black button placed on the ear-oiece all as a voice spoke over spoke over the same said ear-piece, I couldn't quite make out what was said in return, but the guard nodded. "Ten-Four. Inmate ONE-NINE-TWO-THREE, you are to report to your bunk and await processing! Once processed, you will meet with the program director. No questions needed, move forward to your housing unit!"
Once again I was shoved forward, my hands and feet were shackled so there was very little to what I could do in terms of movement. Moving through what I suppose was a housing area for lesser-dangerous criminals, I kept my eyes peeled forward as all the cells I've noticed were empty. Making a sharp left turn, the guards shoved me into a unit behind a solid steel door that had maybe a four by eight sized barred window visible. Keeping my shackles on, I figured I wouldn't be in here long all as I moved to the flat mattress and sat down upon the bed.
"Inmate ONE-NINE-TWO-THREE, you are to remain in your bunk until notified otherwise!"
"Really mate? Where am I supposed to go with shackles on, behind a solid steel door? I'm not Harry Houdini."
"NO BACK TALK INMATE, WE HAVE FULL AUTHORITY TO PUNISH YOU WITH FORCE!"
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"KEEP IT UP!"
I didn't keep it up, rather, I cut off the attitude. There was no use, where was it going to get me? I simply sat back and pressed my back flat against the wall and kept my posture straight. I knew I was in Louisiana, I knew that this was a supermax prison, maybe S2Max, which was for the worst of the worst. As I awaited 'processing' as the guard had told me, I could only visualize getting free, crushing those responsible for forcing me here and hunting the targets that keep my blood moving. One day I would get out of here and revenge would most certainly be mine. A knock on the steel door sounded, I let off a sigh as it wasn't like this was my home --- I paid no rent, there was no reason to alert me of who was there.
"Before you're processed, I need to meet with you. My name is Doctor Hugo Strange, I am Belle Reve Penitentiary's psychologist..."
The bald fellow with a thick beard would give anyone a unsure vibe, anyone with a soul and conscience... I had lost that years ago. A psychological evaluation would be interesting as there wasn't much to see. I had lost my mind years ago, I was sure of it. Whatever Strange was looking for, he wouldn't find.. unless of course, he was looking for nothing --- which in point, he would find a lot of. |
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Post by Slade Wilson - Deathstroke SS on Jul 23, 2015 5:32:39 GMT
"I'M A GOD DAMNED PATRIOT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" a voice.shouted in a cell to the left, stirring me from slumber.
"Shut it inmate! You're gonna wake your new neighbor!"
From that, I learned that I had a new prison-mate, I knew that the chances of me being stuck in this place alone was slim, but actually hearing another voice aside of the demeaning guards was a sound for painful ear-drums, or whatever that analogy was. Being treated much like I was when I had arrived, I saw the man shoved past my cell --- the only thing I really noticed was his blonde hair. He tried to shout again but the sound of a thud meeting the abdominal section echoed through the pen, all as I sat back and smiled --- the sound was still very appeasing.
"INMATE TWO-ZERO-ONE-TWO-ZERO.. You will remain in your bunk until notified otherwise! Also, no back talk --- we have full authority to punish with as much force deemed necessary!"
It was the same song and dance from yesterday, these guards were going to get handled the first opportunity I got. With my back pressed against the concrete wall, I tipped my head backwards and looked up at the steel ventilation shaft, an idea crossed my mind as I lay falling asleep, but ripping steel from concrete wasn't the easiest of tasks, especially seeing as I wasn't planning on getting shot to see my way out of the prison. There was different ways I could approach this, serve my time until I figured out a way to make a grand escape --- or be stupid, get caught and lose more time in the process.
"Aye mate, it's not half bad here.." I said, making sure to speak up so the sound travelled through the air vent. "... Sure it's not Cape Town but it's central air with decent food. Three meals a day, every eight hours --- hadn't had this kind of service since my last visit to Italy." with a 'heh' escaping my lips, I knocked my head back a few times, letting it bounce off of the concrete just for fun,
Allowing roughly three minutes to pass, I got no response from whoever was sharing the prison with me --- I'd peg it as rude but a new prison always brought out the worst in people. My hands and feet were unshackled a bit before I nodded off in the evening, allowing me to do a light bit of cardio to get the feeling of being human again --- strangely enough, I had yet to go through the assumed rigorous psychological evaluation pledged to me by Dr. Hugo Strange, I didn't know if that met I had yet to be processed, maybe part of the ordeal was waiting until more prisoners were brought in so Strange's methods could be on display. Regardless, I took a seat back on my bed after doing a fast set of pushups, the voice next to be rang out --- surprising me.
"This is how they treat patriots? Locking us away?! What kind of treachery is this!?" he boomed, I could tell by the man's voice he was no older than 30.
"I asked the same question yesterday, they don't seem to be keen on answering. Closest I got was when we arrived, one of the guards were going to give me some kind of a clue but that was decided against." the word 'patriot' hit me, I was a patriot for my country once. I heard rumblings that I was set to receive several honors and medals upon my return for dismantling several threats to civil freedom, but sadly that never surfaced. I understood where this guy was coming from, there was nothing more stinging than betrayal from someone --- or something you love like we did.
"This has got to be a prison off the map, in all of my deployments --- especially off the Gulf of Mexico, this place never came up. This is no sweet dream!" I wasn't sure if he was panicking or angry, seemed all the same to me. I chuckled a bit at the man's response to the situation as I heard what appeared to be a fist slam off of the concrete. "AFTER ALL THE LIFE-THREATENING SACRIFICES I MADE FOR THIS COUNTRY?! AND THIS IS HOW I'M TREATED?!" he was a shouter, it appeared.
"Mate --- they don't care. They don't care what we've done in our past lives, I probably was a great white shark, stalking beaches and boats off the Golden Coast."
"How the hell can you be so calm!?" that gave away everything I needed to see, he was panicking --- but it was expected.
".. 'cause I came to the conclusion that there's nothing I can do about what's happening. We're at their mercy, mate --- we've gotta play by their rules, whatever it is."
"I'll show them how to play by rules alright.. just give me an opening.. give me one.. opening.." the man's voice lowered, I barely made out the last bit of it but was sure he was repeating himself to put emphasis on how he'd handle the guards --- something he needed to wait in line to do. "Each and every one of them, they're marked, man.. they're marked."
"You tell yourself what you need to, but remember that they can hear everything you say. I'd keep those intentions as just that --- intentions. No sense making them public, mate --- I'm sure they despise you as much as you aren't fond of them. I'm not too happy with being here but I know that there's no reason to waste time bawling, gotta keep focused --- gotta stay on point."
"I'd ask you your name but I was told that it was a punishable offense. They never said that inmate numbers were off-limits.. So allow me to introduce myself, I'm Inmate 2-0-1-2-0."
"I'm 1-9-2-3," I replied.
"Well 1-9-2-3, since we're forbidden from sharing personal information --- what landed you here?"
"I've got a laundry list of possibilities --- I wouldn't know where to start. Murder? Conspiring to Commit an Act of Terrorism? Federal Property Damage? I can go on mate, it's extensive."
"That's funny.. because I didn't do anything wrong. From what I'm told I 'owe' the government because they saved me from death and me being locked in a god-damned cell is my paying my debt to my country, all forgetting the very crucial fact that I busted my ass to save the United States time and time again from threats both foreign and domestic."
"Wait so let me get this straight --- you didn't actually commit an offense considered a felony? HA! This is righteous, the American government is a mess!"
"You can say that again. I was almost killed in a helicopter crash in Moscow after eliminating the head of a shadow government there. Apparently the American Government were so gracious of my sacrifices that they saved me from drowning and death, kept me hospitalized and once I woke from the coma shipped my ass straight to Louisiana to live out the rest of my life as a prisoner in Belle Reve.. and to think, it was an operation that was green-lit by the Commander in Chief. Gotta love patriotism."
Working in the field as long as I did, the first thing you looked to listen for raising and dipping in tones that'd indicate with lying. The man's tone upheld through the course of his tale, interesting. Of course I had heard the stories of the United States Government treating some soldiers as criminals, even when they completed their assigned task. Sometimes it was because of how classified the operation was, the government couldn't risk a leak --- something as big, yet speculated as a shadow government working in Russia could possibly create international waves --- but this was downright wrong. From one soldier to another, this was total disrespect, and despite my hatred for most of man-kind, I felt for the man. He gave his life to serve his country and protect the constitution, all as it landed him in a secretive federal super-supermax prison in Louisiana that probably wasn't on the books --- sitting next to a known killer... as I said before, righteous.
"When you were brought in, did you take notice of how much cells there were?" my new-found inmate friend asked.
"Twenty --- ten on the left, ten on the right."
"Why only twenty? You'd think a prison this size would be able to contain at least 500 maybe even 750."
"Which peaks the question mate --- what exactly are we doing here?"
"Inmate ONE-NINE-TWO-THREE!"
I heard my number called, it brought a smirk across my face --- it felt good to be addressed as something akin to a human again. The guard with the chubby face, red cheeks and bad attitude stepped up and struck his metal baton against the cell window. I looked to the left, not impressed with his methods as I chuckled --- an action that he didn't seem to appreciate.
"INMATE! WHEN I CALL YOUR NAME, YOU ARE TO REPLY WITH, 'YES, SIR!'"
"You're out of your trees if you believe I'll refer to you as 'sir.' What have you done to earn that right?" this was the opening I needed, I knew it. The guard seemed to have an ego, and in order to insult an individual like this guy all you'd need to do is refuse to give-in. He probably was bullied as a child, he uses law enforcement to get a sense of revenge.
" The right I've earned is.. YOU BEING ON MY TIME, INMATE!"
"I don''t really care who's time we're on. You can forget that pipe-dream, all I'm referring to you as is, 'pig' as that's all you are. So 'pig,' what do you need?"
"That's it.. OPEN THE CELL!"
"You really.. really.. don't want to do that." I warned, but in reality --- I wanted him to open the cell. If he was alone in his approach, I would rearrange his face, and while it may not get me out of the prison, it would allow me to indulge in a distant obsession... violence. The cell was indeed opened, I didn't make any moves, I remained in my place. As the guard stepped in, he was dressed in full riot gear, but he was missing one very crucial piece of equipment, a shield to stop the shots. As he stepped in, he stood before me, staring me down as if I was beneath him as he pointed the baton in my face.
"Not so tough, are you!? It's easy to hide behind a cell and talk like a badass --- where's the att-"
Having heard enough, I sprung to my feet and put all I had behind a right hand that seemed to break through the guard. If not for the teflon vest, I'd had killed him --- but the impact wasn't any less significant. As he doubled over, I ripped the face-mask he had off and threw it out of the cell --- a few more guards rushed forward but before they could stop it, I lifted my knee square into the guard's face, shattering his nose upon impact. Blood drenched my prison-clothes and formed a quick puddle at my feet, all as when he shot up, I threw my hand forward --- grabbing at his right eyeball, I ripped it from the socket and crushed the ball in my hand like a grape. As the guard fell backwards, I was quickly forced backwards as the the victim to my assault screamed and kicked on the cold floor.
"WE'RE NOT TOO DIFFERENT, NOW ARE WE MATE?!" I shouted, I even let off a sick laugh to mock the man, all as my hands were placed into zip-ties behind my back and I was shoved forward, out of the cell. It was pandemonium, everyone seemed to be scrambling after what had just taken place. As I was continued to be shoved past the cell of my short-lasted neighbor, I nodded and smiled. ".. keep your intentions as intentions.. don't tip the enemy off, give'em a reason to fear your mind." firing off a wink, one of the other guards shoved the back of my head forward as I was stationed across of my neighbor all the way down the hall. Once in, the cell door was slammed shut as I sat down on the bed again, I heard my neighbor shout out to me from my location --- and it brought a smile to my face.
"ONE DOWN, NINE TO GO!"
Absolutely.
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Post by Slade Wilson - Deathstroke SS on Jul 28, 2015 5:18:40 GMT
I had officially lost track of time, I no longer bothered counting the seconds to figure out how long I was put away. This was long, longer than I had expected. Despite being promised a psychological exam by Doctor Hugo Strange, I was left in my cell to rot. There was another, a male that I only knew by an inmate number but they had shut him up somehow, it was like he didn't exist. Since I no no one to converse with, my daily routine consisted of waking up, eating a meal, doing as much cardiovascular training with the limited space provided and plotting a way out of this rat-trap. This was no picnic, but it was far from the worst place I've been --- there was no time to be feeling spoiled. After my routine, I would lay back with my hands behind my head and gaze up at the ceiling to stare and plan --- I was a master at strategy but defying the rules of physics wasn't my thing. Just as I was about to take a nap, I heard commotion that stirred me from rest --- new blood?
"I'LL CRUSH ALL OF YOU!" the voice boomed, the tone was serious --- there was no doubt this man was angry.
"SHUT IT!" replied a guard, apparently not learning anything from how I destroyed one of their own due to misconduct. "YOU CAN TAKE YOUR THREATS AND STICK IT WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE!"
This would be interesting --- would the guards place the new inmate anywhere near me? Or would they keep him near the other man; Inmate #2-0-1-2-0. With more commotion nearing my cell, I sat up slowly, there was a few guards escorting whoever this was which meant he was dangerous, it'd be nice to have someone much like myself in my presence. Sadly though, the guards stopped about two cells short of mine and placed him across from me all as I heard the commotion continue, this one was a fighter.
"I'LL RIP YOUR FACE OFF WHEN I GET THE CHANCE!"
I didn't know there was anyone else who was able to reach down and grab hold of aggression and put it on display like me, but this guy was successful at it. What was interesting about the new inmate though, was how he had an animalistic growl after speaking, with how quick the guards shuffled away after slamming the cell door shut, they were intimidated by this man and I found it amusing. They had gear and the numbers to keep us under their thumb but it probably was the uncertainty, how we could lose control at any moment and cripple them --- there were fearful of that aspect..
"KEEP IT DOWN FOUR-ONE-FIVE-ZERO!"
Despite not being able to see it myself, the sound tipped me off that Inmate #4-1-5-0 had very little regard for his body as he was slamming a body part, more than likely his face against the steel bars which gave off a sick, but for me --- comforting sound of flesh and bone meeting steel. The self-abuse would continue for a few moments before it stopped --- all as Doctor Strange moved from that direction and stood before my cell. It took me a while to gaze up and notice him there with a clipboard in hand a pen on paper, all as I forced a yawn to put across the boredom.
"Doc, how long are you planning on having me wait? I've been cooped up in here for who knows how long, I need to stretch my legs."failing to look up at Strange, I felt him continuing to stare in my direction as the man had an eerie presence about him."Yes or no?!"
Shocking me, the cell door opened electronically as Strange adjusted his position to invite me out of the personal hell I had been stranded in. For a second, I thought it was an illusion --- akin to someone stranded in the desert that craved.water and seeing a waterfall form in the middle of a sandpit. I got up and approached the cell-door, all as stepping out, I gazed to the right --- which led down the hall to the guard station and fired off a smile at one of them who watched me with a M-16 in his clutches. Winking at the guard, I wasn't going to try anything stupid as I did want to case the area with some freedom notched on my belt. Strange did not seemed to be intimidated by my presence, rather he nodded and instructed me to follow him as he moved past the last of the cells into an elevator shaft that was protected with fingerprint technology. Strange firmly placed his right index finger, a green laser scanned the print as the elevator door opened and we stepped in. Closing after us, Strange pressed the "C" button on the panel, I found the security measures of this prison absolutely fascinating. I was remaining on my best behavior, all as the door opened and Strange walked forward --- I followed behind as we were on a lower level, this seemed more medical based. With empty beds laying around, Strange led me to an empty room that the door was already opened. He moved across of a steel desk and took a seat, all as I took one also across from him. Lifting my chin, I cocked my head back all as Strange gently placed the clipboard down, all as he pressed the pen against the paper provided.
"We were not sure how you would take being locked in a super-max federal prison. The general consensus was that you would not break, rather you would attempt to exploit as much security flaws as possible to gain your freedom --- but you've shocked us, you have remained in line and we do appreciate it."
"Since I've been such a good ol' lad, how about I finally get some answers? Why am I here? Who are the other two inmates and why does a prison that has such high security only have twenty cells?"
"I assure you, all will be answered in due time-"
No, that was no adequate. I had been a good little toy soldier --- aside of the little dust-up with the guard who continued to speak down at me, but we fixed that problem rather quick. Slamming both fists down on the table --- I noticed Strange didn't flinch an inch at the movement as I learned forward and focused my attention on him.
".. that's not what I want to hear, mate. I was taken from where I was sentenced to live out the rest of my life and brought here and it's about time I get an answer on why I''m here and who the rest of the people I'm locked up are. Since we're not able to see each other's faces and we're forbidden to speak names, why don't you do me a favor and enlighten me?"
"Very well." Strange said --- and it was a strange reply indeed. "As you know, you are a man of many skills --- a few of which we are looking to make useful for man-kind. You have worked as a mercenary in the past and think of your next venture as such, except instead of receiving a monetary payment --- you are working off the dozens of crimes you have committed. You claimed to have been sentenced to 'life' at the last prison, please, who sentenced you? What judge? In what judicial district?"
Strange's condescending tone wasn't doing him any favors, sooner than later I would rip his eye out as I did with that guard and leave him just like myself. I did ponder the question though, taking a few seconds to allow it to sit and stew. Not before long I shrugged my broad shoulders and smirked.
"A prissy green coward and his pest of a sister."
"Did this prissy green coward and his sister give you a fair trial before your peers?"
"Absolutely not."
Lifting both hands, Strange smiled.. "Eureka! It was a kangaroo court!"
"Mate --- let's cut to the chase, what am I doing here?" I felt as if this was beginning to be a total waste of time, but then again --- what if this was the psychological evaluation he spoke of? He'd run me through a series of questions that I didn't expect to get a better look at my sub-conscience to see what lurked beyond... he was afterall, a shrink. He found ways to manipulate people and turn them on themselves, this was no different I figured. But instead of being hostile, I would play his little game --- let's see if Strange liked what he stumbled upon.
"You see --- there has been countless hours of research done on your behalf as well as the rest of your soon-to-be colleagues.."
"Colleagues? I work alone, mate."
"No.. Not anymore," I instantly didn't like the sound of that. "You need to understand that the skills you have accumulated over the course of your life makes you a very important --- but expendable option in helping A.R.G.U.S. compile data, finish research and of course, execute very secretive and important missions."
"What!?"
"You.. Are.. Expendable."
"For the right price I am. You're not offering me payment, you're offering me a chance to work off time for crimes committed against a socierty that I don't necessary like. Why would the same people I look upon as ants be the same ones I put my life on the line for? That's a chapter I've closed a long time ago --- I am no soldier, I'm a mercenary and I work for the right people for the right price."
"It's very fascinating that you believe you have a choice in the matter. While you slept, you were given a high-grade tranquilizer that kept you down foe approximately nine hours, during that time we implanted an explosive to your spinal column and we will detonate if we believe you are becoming a risk to the operation."
It all made sense why I had lost track of time --- I was put under and operated on, it all came flooding back to me now. My immune system wasn't as strong as it once was but I had the ability to fight tooth and nail against foreign substances that would attack my consciousness, which is why the bright lights and gurney make sense --- I figured it off as a dream or a past life experience I successfully blocked out. I would call Strange on his bluff regarding the explosive on my neck but his calm demeanor and all around attitude made me think otherwise --- all as for the first time in a long time, I was uncertain over what was next. Being a mercenary meant I was a drifter, I had no boss to answer to and I did what I wanted --- but the explosive said otherwise. There was a pecking order and I was not at the top where I felt comfortable being, this was a volatile situation but I needed more information before I would decide my next move.
"OK Strange --- so I'm fixed to explode if I decide to go renegade... there's gotta be a perk here.. give me something to work toward."
"Rehabilitation."
"Nonsense. Rehabilitation is a myth, nothing but a sweet little story like Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy and The Easter Bunny."
"Forced.. Rehabilitation. This is still an experimental program, but one we have very high hopes for. Thus far, results have been inconclusive, not enough data to make a fair assessment."
"We're not the first guinea pigs in your experiment?"
"No, the program ranges back to 1940 --- possibly earlier, but data provided only can prove trials during World War II."
"And what do you call this 'experimental program',' Strange?"
"Well, I like to refer to it as Task Force X as it sounds much more professional. But the administrator, she has a different name, one --- as a doctor, am not comfortable with."
"Which is..."
From behind me, I heard the door close as before I could turn --- I spotted a darker toned woman, heavyset and stern step in and walk around the desk.
".. The Suicide Squad, and I've decided to name you captain."
"Yeah?"
"Do not make me regret this decision. I chose you because we are familiar with one another, the explosive is a fail-safe."
"Did you really need to pull me in quite dramatic fashion I may add from my beautiful and tranquil home in the middle of no-where to take part in some kind of sick Expendables role-play? I don't look like Stallone, I think I'm more of a Statham.. I could also be a Lundgren I suppose.."
"No, it wasn't needed. But we're not in the business of 'asking,'' we're in the business of getting results and you're one person that --- no matter what the job entailed, got me results. You've worked countless jobs for us in the past and when I was asked to form a team of the best of the bad, you were the first name that came to mind."
"Should I be flattered?"
"Possibly, whatever floats your boat. I am going to go out of limb and say you've spoke with.. one of the inmates that shared your company?"
"The Patriot? Saved by your government and made into a slave to work off his classified knowledge? Sure did, it's a tragedy how you yanks treat your veterans."
"There's more to that story, but for the most part you're right. We're assembling a gallery for you to choose from, those are two of twenty that we want to have on deck at all-times. If one perishes in combat, we will find another. It's a vicious cycle, but it's time that you gave back after all the taking." she spoke like a politician, one of the main reasons I had trusted her word.
"I take because it's easy and you know what? This'll give me something to keep me occupied. Sabotaging cities.. destroying the life of my arch-nemesis that took everything from me got old, I thought it'd be much more fun than it turned out to be. Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to kill him --- this just fills the gap between Point A and Point B."
"What you do when you've earned your freedom is your call, but until that point you are property of A.R.G.U.S. and will act as such."
"Waller, next time... just ask if you want someone killed."
"I don't ask, I give orders and you will bring me results. I'll have reading material sent your way regarding meta-humans that pose a threat to humanity. I want you to study said files, look for exploits in their approach and figure out a way to bring them to justice. I want them all alive as dead test subjects won't get me in the good graces of the Commander in Chief."
"Do I get to meet my colleagues, or am I sentenced to reading profiles in the solitary in my cell?" it was more of a snarky response, but I figured I'd throw it out there anyway.
"After the stunt you pulled we have trouble giving you any freedom. But because of the high-priority targets, you can have your freedom amongst the structure."
With a nod, I stood up and took the files I was handed from the women. Turning around, I went to move to the door, twisted the knob and pulled the door towards me. As I was about to step out of the doorway, she called out to me in a name I hadn't heard in a while.
"Don't let me down, Slade Wilson. I went to bat for you."
Turning, I had a sick grin carved across my face as I winked with my good eye.
"Slade? Slade Wilson died a long time ago, Waller."
Closing the door behind me, I knew my task --- I was set out to kill, after all... It's what I did best. When I said Slade Wilson was dead, that was no joke, that part of me died when Oliver Queen stabbed me in the eye with an arrow and left me to die like an insignificant spec of dust. Sure, I answered to the name but it was more out of habit rather than having a sentimental attachment to the identity --- all that remained now was Deathstroke, nothing more. Once that two-toned helmet went on, kill mode was activated --- but until that, I would need to figure out my squad --- this gave me a reason to march forward. All I could envision was strangling Oliver and choking the life out of his body and letting him die... all like he did to my Shado. This was a pit-stop to the inevitable, multiple people would die and be captured, all in the name of my redemption story co-starring Oliver and Thea Queen.
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