The Megladon, off the central coast of California.On board one of the few tanker ships used by the infamous cape killers, Admiral Matting and sergeant Fredric marched down the brigs in the lower hall. At the end was high security blast door guarded by tanks of men with light machine guns. "Are you positive that Lancer is responsible for this?" Asked the admiral, his voice grizzled from years of cigar chomping and whiskey drinking, this contrasted the Sergeant's trained and clean cut vocals as they approached the door. "Admiral, he has openly stated time and time again that this was his own doing, he is almost proud of it" Fredric looked over to the admiral fearfully, knowing he and Lancer went back before cape killing days, what he saw was a troubled old man opening the door.
The door slowly creaked open, giving display to a dimly lit interrogation room, a man with a scruffy beard sitting at the other end of a blood stained steel table, a blank expression on his face and cuffs around his wrist. Matting swallowed a lump in his throat while stepping in alongside the sergeant and sealing the door behind him. Upon pulling up a creaky metal seat, Matting slapped down a folder with Lancer's name on it, opening it up and flipping through it. "Bill Lancer, born September eighth, nineteen eighty. Place of birth was the small town of brimlock, Louisian-" The admiral's detailing was cut short by Lancer letting a humble chuckle leave his chapped mouth. "Dennis..." Lancer's voice was laced with a true southern accent, "Y'all lock me up in here for what? Seven weeks now? And you expect me to be all professional about this whole thing? You can take ya' goddamn file there and feed it to Fredric over there" Lancer said while pointing over to the flinching sergeant. Matting sighed while rubbing his sweaty forehead, shooting a glare at Lancer. "Dammit Bill! You killed your entire squad in cold blood during a riot! Why else do you think your locked up? For Christ's sake your the skull hunter! You collect those freak's brain cases for trophies! Six years in service and you blow it, why in the hell are you getting all soft for them!?" Matting lost his cool, yelling at the still very calm prisoner.
Lancer leaned in a bit to show his tired eyes, not filled with anything but a bit of regret. "Don't you see Admiral? We are the freaks, not the mutants or the metas, we are the bad guys. And I got plenty of redemption to find in myself, got some mendin' to do. Oh and Dennis? I thought ya' knew better...Not cuffin' the prisoner to the chair, really?" Lancer said before bringing his hands together and sending them fisted into the admiral's throat, making him cough of blood and wheeze to the floor. Fredric gasped and reached for his sidearm, but was to slow for Lancer, who was already over the table and wrapping the chain of the cuffs around his neck. While he was in a struggle with Fredric, Lancer used his foot to lift the chair which Matting was sitting on and placed one of the legs on his eyeball while he was still in a coughing fit on the floor. Now with everything in place, the renegade cape killer gave one final tug on the cuffs to collapse the sergeant's throat and sit down on the chair, forcing the leg to brutally go through Matting's skull.
The two guards outside could have sworn they heard a noise, choosing to open the door and point the weapons onside the room. The one on the left was met with the corpse of Fredric being forced into the barrel of his weapon, screaming and taking a few steps back. The guard on the right was to busy being stunned by the site of the corpse to notice the barrel of the former sergeant's pistol being pressed up against his head and fired. Lancer already had the shoulder mounted combat knife of the murdered guard in his hand before the body hit the floor. The guard still alive finally booted the corpse off his barrel, just in time to look up and get the knife thrown right into his eye socket. Lancer's arms wrapped around the knifed body. one hand grasping onto the light machine gun and nudged the body forward as a meat shield.
As suspected, cape killers started flocking at the other end of the hall in firing squad position, which was quickly fumbled as Lancer started firing off the light machine gun nonstop to keep them pinned at the doorway. The occasional cape killer managed to blindly fire into the brig hall and rip a chunk out of the meat shield, but not Lancer. "As soon as target is close, I want shotgun front and ce- OH SHIT!" The commander of the small squad yelled as the now beeping human shield tumbled into the room, the pins of his grenades pulled.
Tick, tick, boom.