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It was dark, raining. The rain was so thick, the rain pummeled the military base without end. Someone was walking slowly in the thickness of the rain, getting completely soaked to the bone. Across from the base bar was a hanger bay. A light could be seen pouring out of the window through the heavy downpour of rain. The person that left the bar made his way towards the hanger. The closer the person got, the louder the rain came. So did the sound of several conversations huddled in the metal building before the water soaked bloke. The door opened quickly shutting behind the man.

Everyone that had been previously talking had stopped momentarily to see who had entered. Water dripped down from the hard olive green helmet and raincoat this man was wearing. Removing the gear he hung it up on one of the hooks in the room. His clothing nevertheless was still soaked from the rain outside. As he made his way past the line of chairs huddled together he couldn't help but over hear one of the army men's comments. The man smirked, "Yer absolutely right, it does smell like wet dog around here." Golden eyes darted off to the side as the drenched man turned to face the one who had spoken up. Apparently the man didn't appear to want to say anything else as brute military guy stared the wimp down. "Nothin' else ta say? Good boy. The military trained you well. Maybe you'll live long enough to see another day, boy." Victor Creed stated in sarcasm. His glare alone was daring this wimp of a man to just cross the line and say something else.

Just as Victor turned to continue on his merry way the wimp stood up. "Oh yeah? You and what army is going stop me?" Victor merely smirked, ignoring the man as he entered into the office closing the door behind him. On the door it read 'Colonel William Stryker'. It did not appear that Victor was in there long, as he re-emerged. Only to find that the wimp had met him at the door. "Yeh got somethin' ta say kid? Better spit it out. I ain't got no time for you boy."

"You've got some nerve Victor. Walking in here thinking you have all the balls in the world! You aren't the boss. You are reckless! Troublesome! A hardass and much much more! Me and the guys think you're a bad egg for this operation. It's time for you to take your happy a** on out of here so we can all get a decent pay check for a change, mister!" Victor didn't once break eye contact with the kid. He sure did have a lot of guts to say that to him. Victor would give him credit for that at least. Victor's intimidating frame was enough to make some of the boys back off, as he approached closer to the kid. Closing the breathing room around them as he glared down at the boy.

"Tell yeh what I'm gonna do for yeh kid. Walk away while you still 'ave the chance. Otherwise, one of your boys is gonna be using his tank top as a mop to clean up the mess I make of you if you don't do an about face right now. I've got bigger fries to deal with you pestering flea! NOW GET OUTTA MY WAY RUNT!" Victor's temper was about to get the best of him then. Seeing the other men having already moved back to their bunks, while this kid remained. He was warned - the attack was quick. His talon-ed fingertips ripped into the kid's gut, eviscerating him before the lot. Watching the kid squirm in terror before dropping to the floor in shock. Victor looked up and over at one of the cowering men, "Hey John? Clean up on aisle five." Without another word, Victor Creed left.