Marston clambered down the steps of the private plane and lit up a small cigar as he walked towards the small terminal on the airfield. He was already very familiar with Motor City, he frequently visited to ensure his business operations there were running smoothly, so he could sense immediately that it wasn’t business as usual.

As he left the airport he could see in the distance smoke billowing from a building in central Bricktown and he wondered if it was anything to do with why he had been summoned. A smart looking car with a driver was waiting for him across the road, beckoning him to enter. Marston wasn’t a fan of cars, but there wasn’t room for his horse on the plane so it was either this or a very long walk. As he approached the back window wound down and a familiar grinning face emerged…

“Hey there fucker! Hurry up and get in the car before my driver dies a virgin!”

The driver made a face as if he had heard the same line several times already that day, as Marston climbed in the vehicle next to his boss.

“Let’s go shitbreak, straight to Deadshot’s baby!”

The driver rolled his eyes, as he got back into the car and drove off towards the range.

They arrived at Deadshot’s Den to the sound of loud gunfire, and Marston stepped out of the car and headed in to see who was making such a racket.

It seemed many of the big players from Philadelphia were inside, at the nearest lane Alucard could be seen effortlessly dismembering a wooden target, Marston shielded his eyes from the sun reflecting from the golden barrel and nodded to him in approval as the last silver bullet in his magazine split the target in half.

As he headed further inside he saw Wednesday Addams, she was staring down-range with the most menacing unwavering look you could ever imagine from a young woman. She didn’t appear to be holding a weapon, and Marston wondered if she was attempting to destroy the target with the sheer power of her intense stare. He looked away and continued on to where quiet was honing her skills, but then heard a splintering explosion as the target fell to pieces. He continued on wondering whether Wednesday had some form of telekinetic powers, or if Alucard had engaged in some cross-lane shooting.

He shook his head and continued onward with his task at hand, and approached the woman who had summoned him. While a long barrelled rifle with a scope was her usual weapon of choice, quiet seemed equally adept with a revolver. Pointing one down range she fired all six rounds, drawing a perfect perforated circle of bullet holes where the target’s open mouth would be. She then turned and saw Marston admiring her handy work and shot him a quick smile before snatching a dagger from her boot and flinging it directly into the centre of the circle, tearing a hole straight through the target.

“Marston!!! Glad you could finally join us!”

Marston felt a sense of relief seeing her in such a good mood, as he had been wondering if he had been called in for a warning about his appallingly risky dicing habits, but it appeared that wasn’t the case this time…

“You, sir, I come to you with an offer that you can't refuse…” She began, then led him away to his office.

Some hours later after some lengthy discussions and few drinks, quiet and her entourage left the city. Marston emerged from his office, he left the range and looked over at Bricktown and began to consider the tasks he had ahead. Business had to resume there, and Marston had been chosen to run it, but the Outlaws wasn’t a solo operation. Marston set off back to Philadelphia to find an old acquaintance.