Green Haven Correctional Facility, New York, one hour after the Manhattan Incident

Mike Benson was nervous. Entering a maximum security prison always had some sort of risk with it and despite being in his job as a lawyer for about two years, this was only his second trip into such a facility. The guards gave him a small crash course, never to show fear, never giving them any form of edge against you. But despite all that, Benson knew what some of these men had done in the past. What they were able to. Fortunately this trip into Green Haven was a well prepared one and the young lawyer was lead to his client without any incident. Sitting at the table already, the man of about thirty had his wrists and ankles in cuffs. Opening a briefcase and fetching some sheets, Benson tried his best to maintain a sober face, never to look directly into the eyes.
"So... Mister Mel-"

"Barkster! I told you to just call me Barkster." The brief interruption was all it took for the inmate to build up some eye contact with Benson. The lawyer nodded in agreement, followed by a smile from Barkster. "Anyway, thanks for getting me clearance for the recording equipment It's at least something to do with the plenty of time I got in here."

Still nodding, Benson fetched a pencil and got ready to write.
"Sure, no problem. So you wanted to tell me something?"

Barkster nodded and looked around.
"Yeah... Yeah, look: You got to get me out of here, right? It's not that I'm not able to handle this place. But, you know, a bird wants to fly."

Leaning in, Benson folded his hands and arched a brow.
"Barkster... Look... They got you! Alright? They got you good! With all the evidence against you they found on your computer they got you in here for at least ten more years. I mean programs for banking fraud, placements for weapon caches and balaclavas, blueprints for several banks. The placements were checked and revealed enough material to get you in for yet another dozen of years.

"But I-"

Going through several testimonies, Benson nodded.
"Yes, we've discussed these things. But I already told you that no one believes you that this was a hacker job to place everyting on your hard drive. This idea of yours that your former colleague from your time as mercenary placed this to frame you? The jury isn't buying it, the district attorney isn't buying it and no matter who, the judge isn't buying it either. You have nothing to prove your statement, I'm sorry. So all this goes on and on..." Leaning forward, Benson then cocked his head. "Then you decide to beat up Bob Hicks. I wasn't exactly told the number of incidents... How many times was it now?"

Wrinkling his nose, Barkster shook his head.
"Fifteen! And he deserved every last one of it! That cocksucking snitch... The guards seem to love it, though. They keep putting me into the same cell block as Bob."

Seeing the photographs of a man beaten up into a hospital bed, Benson slowly shook his head. 'What kind of man would do this to others?' Looking up to Barkster again, he tapped the photograph and arched a brow.
"Well as long as they have to lock you up for every... 'incident', you can't expect your situation to go for the better. I don't know where you're from, but here in the states? You do some sick shit like this, you're going away for a long, long time."

Waving it off, Barkster turned away.
"Ah, you're a lawyer. Work your magic!"

This was an attitude Benson despised in a client. Shoving all the work to him and expecting fast and great results...
"Yeah, right... There's only so much one man can do!"

Looking back to Benson, Barkster arched a brow.
"Is this a financial problem?"

This caught the lawyer out of context.
"What are you talking about?"

Leaning in, Barkster now began to smirk.
"Do you need 'economic motivation'?"

"I'm going to pretend I never heard that."

"Ah, you prefer a whip to obey."

That did it; Benson had enough. Packing his things with a few quick movements, he stood up.
"This conversation is over."

All of a sudden Barkster jumped up and despite having his wrists and ankles in cuffs and chains, he managed to slam his flat hands onto the table, causing Benson to freeze in motion.
"This conversation is over when I say it's over!" His left index and middle finger stabbed at the table as his eyes stabbed right at Benson. "Sit down!"

Benson looked over to the guards and shook his head, causing them to relax a bit. Sitting down again, he looked at Barkster and the inmate calmed himself and sat down as well.
"So you're saying my only way out is breaking out of here?"

Resting his face in his palms, Benson sighed deeply.
"Mr... Barkster. Listen, as your lawyer, I can't give any such advice or even talk about any such thing."

Annoyed, Barkster then rolled his eyes. This was all a waste of his precious time.
"Yeah, yeah... I guess I need to contact Bain..."

Again Benson was out of context. Frowning a bit, he looked over to Barkster and gave him a questioning glance.
"Who's... Bain?"

Shooting Benson a glare, Barkster's face now grew grim.
"This conversation is over!" The two men parted and while the lawyer was on his way out, Barkster was lead into yet another room. "What now, boys? Is there another lawyer waiting for me?" grimacing a bit, Barkster looked down. The handcuffs constricted his wrists, made them hurt after a while. When he sat down, another man in suit entered the room shortly.

"Mr. ... Mr Barkster, is that right?"

Mustering the man in front of him from head to toe, Barkster arched a brow. This wasn't a sniveling little lawyer, this man was a whole different caliber. A caliber that yelled secret agent from a mile away. Ear-plug, sunglasses, short and tidy haircut, black suit and necktie, but other than that, this presence radiating off. The presence only a skilled and trained man had. Not that it impressed Barkster that much.
"Well, you're better informed than that useless lawyer they gave me. What do you want from me?"

"We want you to help us to find a man." The tone was sober and monotone, this man was trained not to fall for the same tricks Barkster had played on Benson. But that wasn't going to stop him to feel the water a bit.

"I don't do dating service, folks."

The sober look on the agent's face and his sober tone didn't falter one bit.
"Hilarious... We want you to become part of a team we're assembling to counter the threat that visited Manhattan."

Leaning back a bit, the inmate smirked.
"I bet... You can't imagine the riot this caused in the television room. To actually see cops on the run from their own cars? That's fucking hysterical! What was that crazy stuff?"

"That is what we'll have to find out. But I think we found one acquaintance of yours."

Leaning forward, Barkster arched both his brows.
"Oh really? Who? Santa Claus?"

"You aren't funny, Barkster. But this might be of interest for you."

A photo exchanged hands and on it, Tyler was with the Elements of Harmony and the other Harmony Rangers while the Elements started to charge him up. Barkster recognised Tyler at once.
"Magic..."

"We know that you served for the same contractor as he did. Somehow that man caused an energy pulse throughout Manhattan, which was at that point a chaotic wonderland. This pulse reversed all that chaos. Whatever he found in whatever place he went, we need to know more about all this.

Looking up from the photograph, Barkster arched one brow and cocked his head.
"What's that to do with me? I'm not into multicolored ponies."

Handing Barkster a business card, the agent smirked.
"We want to recruit you. You know Tyler Jones, fought among his side for some months. It's your chance to do something for national security. I'm quite sure you could become an asset for our organization."

Barkster looked at the card with a frown.
"Alien Encounter Global Initiative Systems..." The long name caused him to chuckle. "Say that ten times fast... Who came up with this mouthful?"

"We're working on something shorter... May I deem that as a yes?"

Looking down at the card, Barkster waved it in the air.
"And what if I refuse to be recruited?"

This brought a smirk on the agent's lips.
"Well, how many years is your sentence? I'm sure a certain man working for Uncle Sam to secure national security might prove several charges against him wrong."

"Ah... We're playing that game now, do we?" A grin formed on Barkster's face. This was his chance not only to get out of prison, but also to get Tyler Jones back for putting him in here in the first place while being backed up by a government agency as well. "Alright... I'm all ears..."

Author's Notes:

Not proofread yet, tell me about typos, so I can crush them!