Jeep Wrangler — Roleplayer Guild

	The sound of a focusing camera echoed through his room ever-so slightly. It was odd. James stood behind his monitor, a fellow comrade in front of him. His eyes were quite narrow as he stared deeply at Marcus' movement. Well, he should really say non-movement. He was completely still, almost a statue amongst the buzzing life outside the Three Towers of the 52nd Detachment. Within it's concealed and windowless walls, Marcus sat still. He looked towards a digital time-reading, mounted onto the wall. It read the time; late evening indeed, it was something of a remark. James noted down the key facts. It had been 23 Hours since the Nexus Operation, 22 since he returned...2 hours since the death of Rosa. The informal execution must've gotten to him, right? He was a traumatised lad, no doubt, but that severely hindered what he wanted out of the ex-apprentice. Strange. It was strange, indeed. His old apprentice, back under his wing. The melancholic memory. He was sat in the same slumbered position, much younger as such. The boy after the execution of Sergeant Wilkshire...He placed his hand onto the back-rest of the chair, his monitor operator speaking up.

"Sir, with all do respect, what is the deal with this person anyway? Why wasn't he killed like the other three on that rooftop, if you don't mind me asking?" James' hand fumbled onto his face, scratching the stubble underneath his mouth and chin. Standing back up, he took a deep breath.

"Marcus William Brenada. He never signed up, and was special amongst the rest. He's a Field Operative, the type that infiltrate and snuff-out. He was amazing at his job. His petite, though tall, personality made him exceptionally easy to both manipulate and fall sympathy for. From what I can remember, Corporal, is that he had over 7 odd shutdowns. He was respected here. He's technically still part of us. An Inside-Operator, a role many dream to get. Unfortunately, he did disappear. I trained the boy for a good amount of time, and I was keen on making him among the great names, Juno and Nickel and such...The night we raided them, we find him on a rooftop, drinking tea. The suit, the appearance, he was almost a completely different man. The boy I knew wasn't the same anymore, which you must know from your family, Corporal, that it is a strange experience. He's still alive because he has the information he said he'd provide, and it is a matter of who can get it out that'll bring us one step closer to shutting down the pigeons, or whatever they are called..." After finishing his short anecdote, he patted his back. "Contact Marcus, tell him I'm coming in. I want to see what I can do myself. If not...you know who to call." The Corporal nodded, leaving the conversation to swivel back to the monitor and spoke into the microphone.

	The door slid open, just as Marcus had been told. He remained mildly still, but his head postured upwards towards his Superior. He nodded, though not out of respect but fear. This was it. Years had gone by since the two had seen each other, without a gun to his head. They had never talked for such a while that even this seemed awkward for the Man of Many Arms. He looked at Marcus and handed him a box, filled with small bits of paper. Marcus looked at the box, then back up towards James. It was almost obvious to Marcus what he was trying to do. All that interrogation training back in the day made him notify it easily, yet he still ran along with it as if he had no utter clue.

"Marcus...I wanted to check on you. Catch up quickly before I go do an inspection on the 43rd Barracks down South." Marcus nodded slightly, once again. He was rather terrified right now, predicting this to be his death. The camera watched the two talk. "I wanted to thank you, for the work you've been committing yourself to. I know the other members seem to be rather Rough from what you remember. And quite frankly, Marcus, they don't trust you the way I do. I remember what we had done in the past and that I know you are still the same Infiltrator we both needed and deserved." Marcus looked up towards him, glumly. He knew exactly that this was all a lie, in some way, and listened to avoid any trouble. "You know what, M'...I'm going to promise you again. You'll be among those great names, I promise. Which brings me to the subject of you being visited by someone, maybe, soon?" He perked up.

"By...by who?" The stammered words spilled out.

"Not sure, to be honest...that's for Her to decide..." He looked to the camera, pointing. Marcus knew exactly what this'll mean...they want the information...and they'll do it peacefully without violence to ensure he remains on their side.
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