I wake up to see a wooden ceiling above my head. You know, I'm getting really, really tired of being knocked out right now.

I sit up in a comfy bed with white sheets. I look around and see two windows on a wall to my left. On the wall to my right, in the far end of the room, there's an open door leading out into a hallway. Along that wall is Hound, sitting in a chair, adjusting something on his mechanical arm with a screwdriver. He set it down on the nightstand next to him and wiggled his fingers a bit.

"Good morning," he said.

"Hi. What happened?" I ask.

"When we jumped off, we landed in a lake. You were knocked unconscious by the sheer force of the landing, but I pulled you out. I took you into an alley, where I stole a parked car and took us here," he explained.

"Where exactly is 'here'?"

"Atlanta, Georgia. The base was in Dallas," he said.

"Wait, wait. You drove from Dallas to Atlanta? How long have I been out?" I ask.

"Three days. You were hit pretty good. You hungry?"

"Starving."

"I'll go get some Wendy's," he said before leaving.

"Wait, how are you gonna go looking like that?" I ask.

He pulls on a mask that hides what he looks like entirely. He then puts on similar gloves that match the skin tone and proportional shape and size.

"I'll be back in fifteen. You go ahead and get dressed. I'll get you the biggest burger they've got."

At that, he threw on a trench coat and hat and left the room. A couple seconds later, I heard a door shut. I get up and walk over to a dresser, where I pull out fresh pants, a T-shirt, and some socks. I change into those and place my PJs in the hamper nearby. I sit down and watch TV until Hound gets back.

Eighteen minutes later...

A door opens and closes. I grin from ear to ear. I haven't had a good burger in a while. And this one shall be well-deserved.

I hear a thud. I grab the small pistol on the nightstand to my left for precaution. I stand up and rush over to the doorway. Footsteps creep closer and closer to the door. The first thing I see poke through the doorway is a black pistol. I grab it, jerk down, elbow my attacker in the face, and kick him down the hall, sending him sliding on his [bleep]. I collect his gun and turn the corner, only to see the back end of a gun nail me in the face.

My lip feels cut. Aww, crap. I spit blood onto the floor and look up to see the barrel of a rifle.

"Come with us. Now," he said from behind the gun. I quickly sweep his legs out from under him, stand up, and stomp on his crotch with my right foot. With my left foot, I stepped on his wrist that was holding the gun. I took it from his grasp and shot him in the face. Two more enter the hallway, of which I shoot both. Although, something does bump against the back of my head.

"Drop it. Or I drop y-- "

This man's threat was but off by the sound of him being shot in the back of the knee, which caused him to kneel, and Hound came in from behind and snapped his neck.

"We've gotta go," he said.

"Where?" I ask, frantically looking for a point of exit.

"Anywhere but here!" he answered. He took off, and I followed close behind. He ran up behind it and crouched. He slowly peered over, but quickly ducked right as a shot came in. I followed suit and ducked behind the other one.

"Cover me. I'll take out that sniper," I ordered. He nodded and stood in front of the door that was in between our windows. I stood up behind him.

"Go!"

He kicks down the door and raises his right arm, which takes several shots from the sniper. I jump from behind and use the pistol I looted off the man Hound killed and fired several shots at the attacker. The fourth bullet got him, and we ducked behind a chair sitting on the porch. Several shots came at us, a couple, I noticed, were shotguns while others were pistols.

"How're we gonna get out of this?!" I shout over the sound of gunfire. Without an answer, Hound rolls up his sleeve and starts typing something on a screen that showed up on his forearm. I've learned not to ask at this point.

An infrared camera shows up on the screen. He moves it around, and it shows a house. It shows the armed gunmen firing at us. I look up to see what it is, and I see a drone hovering in the air. I look back to the screen on Hound's arm. He presses a button with a T on it and circles show up on each gunman's head. He presses another button with an F on it and a gun pops up under the drone, which shoots every last one of them.

We stand up and Hound makes the drone hover next to our heads.

"All clear?" I ask.

"Affirmative," he says. "Get in one of their cars. Parkinson isn't here. We need him to find us. We can't keep this up forever. Let's go."

We jog over to a black SUV and hop in. Hound is in the driver's seat and I'm in the passenger seat. We've got a long way to go before we can get to Parkinson.