Dog crept his way across the cold concrete, his shoes dangling from his hand so the echoes of his footfalls didn't give his position away. One foot in front of the other, slowly, carefully, meticulously. The only sound he let out was when he occasionally lifted his head and sniffed. He didn't know where he was, but he did know that he wasn't alone. There were others here, but others he had never met. It certainly wasn't his team. He'd be able to pick out the grease on Eels skin or that cocoa butter Swan smeared on his legs every morning from half a country away on a good breeze. These people, he didn't know who they were and that scared him.

He knew he hadn't been captured by the enemy, that would mean either torture or dissection. He supposed this could be some weird form of psychological torment, but he doubted that. They were much more direct in their methods than this. Neither did he think this was some test from The Good Doctor, they had stopped all that years ago before they'd been sent out into the field. He stopped for a moment as the thought that he might be dead crept into his mind. He shuttered, but wrote that off too. No, he wasn't dead. Dog was still young, the doctors hadn't told him anything during his last adjustment and they were through. If he was going to die anywhere it would be during a mission and the last Dog remembered he was going to bed. Thus, he couldn't be dead.

Unless of course something had wiped out the base. 

No, that was impossible. They'd all be here with him then. 

Right? 

He remembered an old movie that Spider had shown him, telling him he was the luckiest among them because he at least was guaranteed to show up before the pearly gates no matter how many fucked up things they were ordered to do. Was that it, then? Was the reason they weren't here now because he'd left them all behind and gone to Heaven? Alone!?!

Dog senses told him to stop, and he stepped back into the shadows more on instinct than anything. The sound he'd heard cut off the religious crisis building up in his head at the root. He moved faster, coming around one of the pillars an crouching in its shadow to observe the guy that the greeting had come from. Just a normal looking guy from the look of it. He wasn't armed. He seemed just as out of place as Dog felt. Civilian? Not the best of companions, but at least it was something. 

Dog grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted it up until it rested just under his nose. That would have to work so long as he didn't have his bandanna. Civilians weren't exactly comfortable looking at his ugly mug. The black eyes that could usually handle or write off, but the maw was flat out unacceptable. "Hello?" he replied standing up and walking out, hands up, voice like he gargled gravel every morning. "You know where we are?"