Another day and another load from Burke and Murray. They puff away as usual, leaving the pile of used salvage right in front of your garage, making it temporarily impossible to enter. As you’re waving your fist towards them, you toss a tin can with your feet over to the load.

“What a hunk o’ junk…” you mutter as you and your buddy Jake root through the stack, hoping to find something useful. As you get deeper and deeper into your work, Jake is struggling with a large piece of metal, maybe from a wing of an aircraft.

Finally, he stops and taps you on the shoulder.

“Give me a hand, Chance! This is stuck!”

You nod and give a good pull. At last, you two get it loose from the rest of the stack. Now that you see the whole thing, you’re sure it was part of a wing. Once being steel gray, half of it now is black and charred, with rust covering it everywhere. As you’re studying it, you soon realize you can’t identify it, not seeing the whole jet. One thing’s for sure: it is no part of an Enforcer jet…

“You know, I don’t remember Enforcers had jets with wings like this one…” you say to Jake. He examines it, and scratches his head.

“You’re right, buddy… But whatever jet it belonged to was in a wet place; look at the rust on its surface!”

“Yeah, not to mention the black marks on it…” you carry on, frowning. “It must have been blown up, or hit by a missile or something’…”

“A missile?” interrupts Jake. “What if we shot it down?”

“Could be…” you reply, staring at the piece. You get a hold of it and slowly turn it over. As the light of day glints on the other side, somehow you get the feeling you’ve seen it before. But before you can call it to mind, the klaxon goes off.

You call me up and treat me like a dog… You call me up and tear me up inside…