MCU: Skull and Bones - Chapter 47: Wetwork

Chapter 47: Wetwork

2012

Washington, D.C.

Capitol Hill

(Brock POV)

*Bang!*

The bullet whizzed through the air, slamming straight into the sniper’s right eye, and blowing a path clean through his skull. The sniper fell backward, blood pouring from his ruined eye socket as he fell off of the building and tumbled to the ground below.

Cries of panic and surprise from the crowd washed over me as I lowered my gun and watched the sniper fall with indifferent eyes, I glanced over as Jack and the rest of my guys make their move and arrest the suspects.

“Move ’em along, boys!” Jack shouted, slapping handcuffs onto the suspects and moving them away from the barricade.

With the sniper dealt with, I slung my weapon over my shoulder and walked over to Jack.

“Alright,” I said to him. “Looks like that part is over. Secure the prisoners and get them ready for transport.”

“Sure thing, Sir,” Jack said as he stepped forward and grabbed one of the men by the arm. The man tried to resist but Jack just gripped tighter on the man’s arm, holding him in place.

“Let’s go,” He said, leading the prisoner away.

I walked back up the stairs of the Capitol building, making sure to keep an eye on the panicked crowd as I went inside to report the incident.

*************

Washington, D.C.

Capitol Hill

Inside the Meeting

(Alexander Pierce POV)

“The votes are in. There is a three-to-two majority in favor of Project: Insight,” I announce to the assembly. “With that, we’ll reconvene tomorrow morning for the vote on funding. Thank you all for your time and patience.”

At my words, the assembly disperses and I step down from the podium, shaking hands and thanking a few members of the delegation as they exit the hall.

“I thought you were going to lose,” Councilman Chao Yen commented as he approached me.

“I’m sure you did,” I replied with a mocking smile. “But I still won.”

“You did.” Councilman Yen smiled fakely and shook my hand firmly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you very much,” I say with derisive politeness. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to return and prepare myself for tomorrow’s vote.”

“Of course,” Councilman Yen says before walking off, leaving me alone in the conference hall. I watch him leave for a moment, then turn and head for the main doors.

I reach out and push them open just as Major Rumlow strides up to the doors. He stops short when he sees me standing there.

“Major,” I greet him as he turns around.

“Sir,” He responds, saluting me. “We had a small situation outside.”

I raise an eyebrow at that remark. “Ah? What happened?”

“I caught sight of multiple suspicious individuals trying to break through the perimeter as well as a sniper stationed out front. But I took care of it. The sniper was put down and the suspects are in custody and are currently being readied for transport to an off-site location. No injuries on our side.”

My eyes widen slightly at the report. “Interesting…have you interrogated them yet?”

Rumlow shakes his head. “No, Sir. I reported to you as soon as the situation was taken care of.”

I nod my head in understanding. “Well done. Take me to where the prisoners are to be held,” I order. “I want to be there for the questioning.”

“Yes, Sir,” Rumlow says respectfully.

He leads me down the stairs, past the barricades, and into the streets surrounding the Capitol Building. We walk for a minute before we come across a group of black SUVs parked in a tight line.

“Is everything ready?” Rumlow asks a plain-looking soldier who stood beside the vehicles.

“Yes, Sir.” He says after glancing at me for a moment. “We’re ready to move out.”

“Good,” Rumlow says. “Then let’s go.”

“Yes, Sir,” He replies.

Rumlow walks up to one of the SUVs, opens its rear door, and motions for me to step inside. I follow suit, sitting down on the bench seat as he climbs in next to me and closes the door behind him.

“Alright,” I say as I buckle myself in. “Let’s find out what these people have to say about their little plan.”

The line vehicles lurch forward as the convoy begins to roll down the street and away from the Capitol Building.

I look out the window at the various civilians who stare at us curiously, unsure of what was happening.

“Any theories on what these people were after?” I ask Rumlow.

“They were probably trying to assassinate someone from the delegation,” He says. “Or perhaps they wanted to steal intel on what was talked about during the meeting. Either way, they’ve failed.” Rumlow replies calmly.

“Hmm,” I hum noncommittally, mulling over his suggestion.

“At any rate, we’ll know soon enough,” He continues.

“Indeed,” I nod.

We stay silent for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts as the convoy rolls onward. Eventually, though, I can’t help but continue to wonder. Who could these people have been trying to kill? And why would they try to attack the assembly? Did they know about the project? Or who we really were? Whatever the case, whoever they were working with will pay for their actions. I doubt they were acting alone.

As I continue to ponder the situation, I feel a soft tap on my shoulder and look over at the capable young man next to me.

“Sir,” He says quietly. “We’ve arrived.”

I look out the window and see that we’ve reached the secure location where the prisoners are to be questioned.

“Let’s see what these scum know.”

{A/N: Trigger warning this next scene includes Torture. If you know you can’t handle that, skip to the end of the chapter.}

*************

Washington, D.C.

Secure Blacksite

(Brock POV)

The interrogation site was in a dim and humid converted warehouse with a sectioned-off viewing room behind a one-way mirror that displayed four metal operating tables lined up in a row in the middle of the room. A small digital clock hangs on the wall opposite the entrance, which is guarded by a pair of soldiers wearing body armor and carrying assault rifles.

A long table holding various torture equipment stood off to the side, a standard setup, nothing special or fancy.

I pull out a chair and sit down as I watch my men strap the prisoners down on the operating tables, their arms outstretched above them, secured to the tables with thick bands of iron.

“Alright,” I say as I stand up. “Let’s begin.”

Moving over to the equipment table, I look it over before grabbing a small vicious-looking electric handsaw and walking over to the first prisoner.

“This might hurt,” I tell him before turning the power switch on the handle to activate it.

The sound of the blades buzzing fills the room as they spin to life.

“Just relax,” I say calmly to the prisoner. “It should only take a few minutes for me to cut your fingers off.”

“Fuck you,” He spits bitterly, glaring at me defiantly.

I smile at him. “That’s the spirit.”

I grab the saw and bring it down hard against the top knuckle of his pinky finger. The blade slices through the skin and flesh easily, causing a gasp of pain to escape from the prisoner’s mouth. Blood spurts from the wound, spraying all over the table.

As his pinky falls to the floor, I move to the next one and keep going until both his hands were reduced to bloody knubs.

“Who sent you?” I demand calmly as the man just groans in pain as more blood erupts from the severed appendages, splattering across the table. He lets out another cry of anguish as he tries, hopelessly, to stop the bleeding.

I press the bloody tip of the blade against the prisoner’s wrist. The blade digs deep into his flesh and I twist the handle, severing the vein and artery in his wrist, causing him to scream in agony.

“Tell me who sent you!” I shout at him, pressing harder on the blade.

“F-fuck yo-“

Blood pours forth from the wound and he screams louder before he finally falls victim to the blood loss and loses consciousness.

I release the blade when the screaming ceases, wiping some of the blood from my hands. I grab a scalpel and slice a deep line across his throat, ending his life.

The other three prisoners wail in pain, their faces contorted in agony.

I move over to the next one in line.

“What’s your name?” I ask calmly.

“M-Mason,” He whispers weakly after a moment.

“Nice to meet you, Mason,” I reply as I grab a pair of pliers.

“You want to tell me what you guys were doing in Capitol Hill and who put you up to it?” I ask the nervous prisoner

“I-I don’t know anything!” He stammers, gripping the table tightly.

“That’s too bad,” I reply with a sigh before grabbing his face. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

I grip the front of the man’s head and tighten the pliers directly underneath his eyelids. They bite into the flesh of his eyelid, cutting through it and pinching it between the two metal prongs.

The man writhes in pain, screaming in agony as he tries to close his eyes, but the pliers keep them pinned tightly within the sockets.

Blood wells up from his eyeball as it bleeds out from under the pliers. His screams become more frantic and hysterical as blood starts pouring from his eye socket, dripping down onto the table.

“Wh-What do you want from me?! Just let me go! Please!” He begs me as I keep squeezing the pliers and he continues to bleed out.

“Oops,” I chuckle as I hear the faint sound of tearing flesh

“PLEASE!!” He yells in a wild voice as blood squirts from his eye socket. “FUCKING STOP!”

“Sorry buddy,” I reply calmly before jamming the tip of the pliers deeper into the eye, ripping the eyeball free of its socket.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” He shrieks hysterically and thrashes violently on the table.

I hold the eyeball up to my eye and inspect it closely as I listen to him scream in agony. It’s a strange color, almost brownish red, and feels sticky to my touch.

“Should be happy I got It all in one go,” I chuckle as I toss the eyeball aside. “Now, who sent you?”

“I-I don’t know,” He whimpers, still struggling on the table. “I swear I don’t fucking know!”

I nod at him and step back. “Alright then.”

The man’s bruised face brightens at my words and he lets out a sigh of relief, thinking I believed him.

“Hold still,” I order as I gripped his Jaw in my hand and forced his mouth open.

Once again, he struggles against me, kicking his legs frantically against his restraints as he tries to get away from me. He growls angrily at me like a beast as I stick the pliers down his throat and tightened the prongs around his tongue. His screams intensify as he starts choking on the small tool. His eyes bulge as he attempts to spit the pliers from his mouth but they won’t budge.

With little effort, I yank my hand backward so hard that the pliers rip out his tongue.

The man’s eyes go wide with shock as blood begins to erupt from his mouth and he stares at me in horror. He starts to choke on his own blood as I step back and retrieve a thin metal hook from the table.

I turn to the next captive and grab his hair. He flails his head wildly, trying desperately to break free of my grasp, but I’m too strong for him.

“Who-“

“Friends of Humanity! We’re with the Friends of Humanity!!!” The man shouts as he fights against me.

“…Who?” I question coldly while releasing his hair from my hand.

“We’re a revolutionary organization dedicated to freeing humanity from the shackles of oppression and shielding humans from the crimes perpetrated by recent nonhuman threats,” The man cries out as he thrashes helplessly on the operating table. “We take orders directly from Senator Peter Krane! He’s the leader!”

************

A/n: Hey everyone! Hope you are enjoying the story so far and as always thanks for reading!