Scout had been missing from New York for a good chunk of time. He'd left his phone behind and, because of that, wasn't entirely sure anyone had noticed his absence, but, either way, he didn't particularly care. The whole secret government agency thing took much of his time and attention. They'd approached him after he was taken into police custody a month or so ago, laden with all manner of illegal substances and contraband. And men in shades - yes, seriously - had offered him a deal. If he helped them out, they would help him.
He agreed.
And now here he was, being ushered down some nondescript hallway in a building he didn't know in a city he didn't know. It was like a fucking movie. Scout took off his sunglasses as he was led to a set of closed doors and left there. He looked over his shoulder at the receding figures of his chaperones, then back at the gray doors. He blinked at them, then reached for the handle.
They opened to reveal a long, large room, empty save for a man at the other end, stretching. It looked like a place where people were tortured. Scout narrowed his eyes on the man and smirked.
"So, what are you going to do to me?" He asked as he crossed the floor, tucking his sunglasses into his shirt collar. He stopped short of the other man and crossed his arms over his chest, expression expectant.