With no response, Wright knocked it several more times, this time as hard as he could. Soon enough, a light turned on inside, and the door opened. "The hell do you want?" responded the middle-aged man who answered it, the dim illumination of the streetlights defining the lines of the scowl on his face. Sighing, Wright said "You don't recognize me, do you?" "No, and I don't want no soliciting thank you." Before the man could close the door, Wright responded "We'll fight hard and well..." Wright nodded, and the man stepped aside and motioned for him to walk in. "Memories?"