It was the dead of night, at least as Station’s time went. Wade was not asleep. Sleep was something that he rarely got more than a few hours of on any given night. Instead he found himself in the main gym. His body was slicked with sweat as he worked the heavy bag. Though had yet to realize it, he was working the bag in time with the Rhythm of the driving hardcore rock that he had playing on the overhead speakers. It was a decently high volume, but it should not have been disturbing anyone at this hour. There were no officers on duty in the nearby areas, and it was separated from the residential areas enough the sound should have carried. His fists were wrapped to protect them as he fired punches at the bag. Wade had learned many different arts over the years but still fell back to boxing as his first choice. Wade continued his workout, though his mind was elsewhere. Jab, Jab, Cross, Hook, Jab....and other variations of the sort.

Commander Wade King, SOO