Bus, somewhere over Atlantic ocean, 2016 May 22

"So that's how it happened?" Said Phil Coulson to a soldier with crippled hand. The soldier was that Phil, second survivor of the breaking point in Syria. "And that guy in the cellar? Did he really just shot him?" Coulson asked bit surprised by that. If what the man said was true, Nick wouldn't just shot him. "Yes, yes. As I have said. Just a shot." Phil said to the agent bit nervously. He knew the truth, that he didn't killed him just like that. "Thank you sir, now let's get you back home." Coulson said and shook the man's healthy arm.

New York, Doc Holliday's bar, 21:40 2016 May 22

"Hey mate, give me another shot" said someone by drunken voice behind bar desk. "Sir you've had already enough... I can't" said barman alarmingly and looked at a man with undercut hair and scars at his neck, one scar was running next to his chin down. His skin was tanned by long staying on the sun. His face was covered by a beard about a week old. "Mate here is a key to my car... so now fuck off and give me another shot" said the man and gave the barman his key. "Fine, what's your name?" He said and put the keys to a drawer, he took a pencil and small sticker. "Nick Simmons, and you?" Said the man and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it and provocatively smiled at some teens who moved away from him as the smoke filled the air in front of him. "They are really telling to someone to rape them by those outfits." He said to the barman and rolled his eyes. "I am Jeff, or that's how the people here call me." He said and gave him the shot he asked for. Nick raised it towards the barman "cheers" he said and drunk it. It almost didn't has a taste, a vodka, classic. "So what's your poison?" He asked and worryingly looked at Nick. "Jeff, you know what happened to you when you die? I don't but I would wish so." He muttered and gestured for another round. "Double... no triple" he said and Jeff bit surprised by that courage. But he didn't object. Nick kicked it to himself and stood up. He left 30 bucks there "the rest is for you" he said and with boozy steps headed outside, whispering a melody of a Drunken Scotsman.

He turned to the left instead of to the right. So now he ended up in some small dark street. Someone was screaming there, he tried to run but fell down. He broke his nose "fuck... this shit" he muttered and hardly stood up again. He pulled out his gun not thinking straight. The scream of despair was closer now, it was one of those teenagers in mini skirt and tight top. She had black hair and small amount of make up. That Nick appreciate, he would go to her but he has that gentlemen stuff in his after all. And also she was around 16. Back in Scotland it wouldn't mind but here? The age limit is higher but still normal. There was a man in white top and black jeans, it was clear abuse. "Motherfucker.... get away from her!" Nick shouted and aimed his 1911 at him. His hand was stable but his vision wasn't. "Or what? You will shoot me?" He asked with smile and touched the crouch of the girl before heading to Nick. He took a pocket knife, it was quite long. Long enough to kill. That was all Nick needed. Even after the army, stop killing would have no use for him. He pulled the trigger 3 times. Mozambique technique. 1 in the head, 2 in the chest. The girl started screaming even more. She didn't know what to do now. Nick pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Everything is ok now, calm down I am not going to hurt you." He said and the operator spoke "911 what's your emergency?" Said female voice "my name is Nick Simmons, send me a patrol to Doc Holliday's bar. I've just killed a man who tried to rape some teen. She needs a psychologist probably." He said and no one replied. "You have just shot a man?" She said after few moments of silent. "Yes ma'am, I am staying here. I won't make any troubles now please send the patrol." He said bit bitingly and sat on the ground next to the body. "On its way, wait 5 minutes, they will be there soon."

"Sir, you are Nick Simmons?" Said an officer who got out of the car with hand at his gun. "You see anyone else here sitting next to a dead body? Of course I am." Nick said and pulled out his gun, the magazine hit the ground and the bullet in the barrel went from the side of it after Nick moved the slide. He put it back to the magazine and threw the magazine and empty gun to officer's feets. "The girl is right there, if you want to arrest me please be my guest." Nick said and grinned over the officer's reaction. He quickly pulled out his gun and immediately put it back. "No sir but you will have to go with us sir. The other patrol is on the way for that girl and coroner too. Come here and put your hands on the car. Any drugs or alcohol?" He asked and pointed at the roof of his car. Nick moved towards it and put his hand at it obediently. "Quite a lot of alcohol and Vicodin. That's opium painkillers." Nick said and the officer started checking his arms, chest and legs. Phone, wallet, pocket knife, keys probably to his house. He checked at his chest a pendant. Dog tags with name and rank. "An army?" He asked and opened the backdoor of the car for Nick. "Syria, hell on Earth." Nick said and sat down to the car. He fell asleep quickly. The alcohol did the job quite well.

"So second staff sergeant Nick 'Croaker' Simmons. Why do they call you Croaker?" Asked detective in interrogation room. Nick wasn't chained, after all why? He called police that he killed someone. "Because I am a medic asshole. How did you become a detective? So before you continue I don't want no attorney. I am guilty as charged. But also I think there is law about self-defense. And that guy clearly went for me with a knife and tried to rape a teenager. So charge or let me go. I have wanted to sleep in my bed or in bed of some girl not in prison or drunk tank. Also all I have said now is useless at the court because I am drunk so shut up and let me go. And also call me a cab." Nick said bitingly with sarcastic smile. The fun part would be if that detective punched him for all that. And Nick hoped he would. "I know I just wanna know how it happened." The detective said and his eyes were bit cold. He was beginning to be pissed. "Fine mate, I was in the bar. I've had about 6 to 12 shots of vodka. After 6 I lost my count. There were those pretty teens there. I don't know who let them in but they were there. Then they went away after I started smoking. Don't you mind do you?" Nick said and pulled out the cigarettes and matchsticks from pocket at his ankle. "Military trick..." he added with smile and lit the cigarette. He saw that detective didn't appreciate it. "Well where were we... oh yes. They went away, I gave barman my keys to car and took another shot or two. Then I have paid and I've messed turns. I went left, I don't know. Just to that street. I have heard quiet screaming so I went there. Then there was that punk abusing the girl. Knife, bang bang bang and the whoop whoop that's the sound of da police. So and now we are here." Nick finished his story and stood up. "May I?" He said with raised eyebrows and gestured to the door. The detective twisted his head. "No you are drunk and rude. The most important is the word drunk. You will stay here at the catch. Tomorrow you can sign your statement." He said and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. He threw it at the ground and stepped on it. "Come on you. Just a nap." He said and caught Nick's arm. Nick twitched and break his grip. "Fuck off mate! I am able to walk on my own." Nick said and headed out of the room. The detective was quite surprised by that. Nick thought he was just scared, nothing more. He walked to the cell with no smoking sign. There was already some dude who looked like he was about to puke. "Really? With him?" Nick muttered and let the detective open the door. He walked in and sat at the bench. "I swear if he do anything dumb you will be collecting his teeth from the floor."

Nick was woken up by some officer knocking at the bars of the cell. "Simmons! You have a visit!" He shouted and opened the door. "What? May you stop shouting? Am I free now or not?" Nick said and rubbed his eyes. His throat was dry and through his head twitched pain in the rhythm of his heartbeat. He realized that the another guy is gone. Probably already out. So that means he was sleeping quite good, even with the alcohol. "No... detective decided you are dangerous. So you will be transferred to a single cell." He said and put handcuffs at Nick's hands. "Come on, he looks in hurry." He added and walked with him to the room were guests could speak with the prisoners. There was a man sitting in a black suit. Since he was only one there it wasn't hard to recognise it's him who would like to speak with Nick. Nick sat down and the man gestured the officer to leave them alone. Policeman turned back and walked away. That was weird. Nick wasn't sure why but the man took the phone and pulled out a badge out of his suit. S.H.I.E.L.D..

"Hello mister Simmons. I am Phil Coulson. I would like to have few words with you. About Syria." Coulson said as Nick still cuffed took the phone. "About Syria... no I don't want to..." Nick replied but was interrupted by Phil "I don't care but there is an option for you. The guy you have killed last night was a son of quite a rich dude. And I would like to get you out of here legally and offer you a job in my team." Phil explained what he wanted at least for now. "Your sister is there too. But I need to know... what have you done to that man in Syria who survived." He said like it should change his mind. "I've shot..." Nick said but was again interrupted "no you didn't. We both know that." Phil said and hid his badge to the suit. "Why should I tell you?" Nick asked confused how the hell this middle-aged dude with personality crisis could know so much. "Because otherwise I will let you rot in prison." Phil said playing now at the bad part of this situation. "Fine. After I called the HQ I went back inside and pulled the man out. I pulled those dead pigs at one pile. Then that I pulled the last weiner there and woke him up. He was confused. Scared. I saw it in his eyes. That fucking animal. Disgraceing a dead body by raping her. I have took a gas cannister from their car. I spilled it all around him and over the bodies. I need 2 canisters. He was tied up to his dead friends. Then I made a small gas trail and lit it by my lighter. He started screaming not able to run. He suffocated by the smoke before burning to death." Nick said by cold voice. It was like he did not regret it at all which might be a true. "You have loved her? Your captain?" He asked frowning by the story he heard. "What? No! ...yes. I don't know. I knew her only for 2 days! But probably. Wouldn't you do the same? They have raped her dead body! They have violated standard human rules. Those animals... they aren't even animals! Those monsters they have killed a mother of a one boy and raped her! And I am not sure if she died from the bullet wound or they raped her to death! Try to tell this to her family. I am sorry ma'am but your daughter was killed by terrorists. No they didn't shoot her they raped her to dead! Try it!" Nick started shouting. This thing was driving him mad. It was so inhuman like. His eyes were wet by sadness and rage. It was like someone put him through it again. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to bring this back again." Coulson said apologetically "I would just like to say you are in. I need someone who will protect the team... and because you have there a sister I believe you will." He added and looked at the watch. "Pack your things. The officer will take care of you. In 10 minutes outside. Black SUV. Chevrolet. You start today."