► twenty-four

[cameback]

[ Private | Voice Recording | Personal Codes | Unhackable ]

None of it is going to heal. I'm now going to be walking around like swiss cheese or somethin' and I can even see right through a couple of the punctured wounds. Not to mention I'm missing a piece of a rib bone.

Isn't this just bloody brilliantI swear if I ever find that bitch, I'll--

Comments

Action

[handsomejack]

Jack had the remains of his team on top of any signals that came form Owen so the moment he started to transmit, Jack was on the move.

And move he did, jumping with the assistance of his wrist strap until he was close enough to run the rest of the way.

"OWEN!"

Action

[cameback]

The intercom was still lying at his feet where Amanda's voice had originated from during the trap's process. It had long since fallen silent and Owen had lost track of the hours since then. Twelve? Twenty? Who the fuck knew. All around him was just walls. No windows, no doors - just walls keeping him inside and surrounded by empty crates. What he did not know was that the only way out was hidden carefully behind a particularly tall stack of empty wooden crates.

From where he sat on the ground there were chains and locks that had previously been used to restrain his body lying about. Surgical tools were still fastened to piping that had all been controlled by remote. The metal was stained with dead blood and tissue. His dead blood and tissue

Action

[handsomejack]

Using the information sent through to him from Abby, Jack worked his way through the entry/exit way and then through the crates.

"Owen!" Jack said as he spied the man, moving quickly over to him in a flutter of coat tails. "Wow, do you look like shit."

Action

[cameback]

That was quite possibly the single most understatement of the year. His jacket and shirt ripped to shreds, Owen had barely managed to pull himself to his feet when the crates were suddenly being shoved aside and just about dropping the communicator and a piece of bone in the process.

There were various puncture marks in his body and a choice few were so deep that the wall behind him could be seen, some deep gashes in his shoulders too. All in all he was a sight for sore eyes. Literally, one would guess even.

Owen just stood there with his back to the wall, though, not unlike a deer having been caught in headlights. "Jack?"

Fuck.