“Maybe we were wrong about you.”Leo heard the harsh, gravelly voice just as he was about to turn into his quarters. He didn’t need this shit. Al... he wanted was to get back to his quarters and hit the rack. It had been a long fucking day and he didn’t need anyone to make it any longer.He turned to see who was talking shit to him, but he didn’t recognize the man. Of course, it was sometimes difficult to tell them apart – there wasn’t a lot of variety in two-meter walls of pure fucking. As soon as they were all inside, the black guards positioned themselves all along one wall, guns pointed at the floor near the captives' feet, Harley asked the skinny man. "You the boss of these clowns?" Yes I am. And you are in deep trouble." The man looked up at the much larger Harley Duran in disdain.Harley cuffed him up alongside the head and he fell to the floor. "Naw, you got it all wrong. You're the one in deep trouble. I haven't decided whether to have my friends kill you outright, do. More

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