Hey guys! This is my first FS fanfic and I just wanted to tell you all a couple of things in advance. 1) I have never been to America or Afghanistan, so I apologise if I am not 100% accurate in regards to language or landscape, though I will try my best. 2) I rated this T because there will probably be some violence and offensive language at some points. 3) I don't have an update schedule planned out yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I do. 4) I would love to hear your opinions on my writing or any constructive criticism you may have but I don't want you to feel pressured or obligated to review in any way. 5) I hope you enjoy reading!

Chapter 1

I was too warm.

The simple metal bars in place of a window did nothing to let in the breeze. My tiny cell was stuffy, filled with the kind of heat that made it difficult to breathe. I guess I should have been used to it, having lived with it all my life, but I was used to the air conditioning of modern houses, not the unbearable heat of a dusty prison cell.

I fell back down on my bed and gazed up at the ceiling, neither of which really deserved their names. The bed was little more that a flimsy mat on the ground, and the ceiling was so riddled with cracks that it looked like it would fall down on me at any minute. As much as I hated being here, as much as I wanted to be able to go back home, I couldn't bring myself to wish it. If I was here, it meant that Aliah was safe, and there was nothing more important to me. Nothing I wanted more.

You can't be sure she's safe. What if she didn't make it? What if Amir got to her first? The logical part of my brain always had something to say, even if I didn't want it to. I wanted to tell it to shut up but it had a point; I didn't know for sure that Aliah had made it. I hoped she had. I really did. Tommy was with her, I told myself, he'd keep her safe.

That brought a smile to my face; my little sister and her Soulfinder, safe somewhere in America, happy together. It was all I wanted and I had to believe that it had happened. Otherwise, I'd end up going crazy.

The sound of metal locks being pulled open rang through my cell and I quickly sat up, my stomach rumbling in anticipation for some well needed food. Normally it was little more than bread and water, but every so often they'd grow a heart and add in some meat or cheese. I was hoping today was one of those days. The door opened reluctantly with a screech and a guard stepped into the room; to my disappointment, there was no food in his hands, only a gun.

"Stand." His voice was deep and gruff as he barked the command and I shakily got to my feet, confused as to what was happening. Were they finally giving me a trial? Doubtful, Amir's family was powerful enough that their word was pretty much law. It was unlikely I'd ever get a hearing, I'd just be left here to rot. So what was going on?

As soon as I was on my feet, the guard wrapped one hand tightly around my arm, pulling me out of my cell and into a corridor filled with identical metal doors. I had left my cell a number of times before in order to shower and it was possible that that was where I could be headed, but showers were only allowed once a week, sometimes less, and I had already been a couple of days ago. I was proved correct when I was lead straight past them and into a corridor I had never seen before.

A few more turns, and through a couple of doors, and we were in a corridor that looked like it didn't even belong in the same building as my cell. The floors were tiled, the walls were clean and painted, and the doors were wooden instead of metal. I hoped I was getting an upgrade but that didn't seem likely, there was no way in hell Amir would even think about making my stay more pleasant, in fact I was surprised he hadn't demanded I be put in the darkest, dirtiest cell they had.

I was pulled to a stop outside a door marked only "2" and the guard finally released his iron grip on my arm and took a step back. I rubbed the offended spot as I waited for instructions. Was I meant to go inside? I turned to him but he offered no information so I raised my hand; before I could knock, the door swung open and I was met by a carbon copy of the guard behind me though this one had a bigger gun and a nasty scar running down the right side of his face. He waved his gun in the direction of the room and I took it as an invite, stepping past the threshold.

The room was clean and bright, sunlight shining through the barred window, but unlike my cell, it wasn't devastatingly hot in here thanks to the fan whirring away in the corner. Along with the fan was a basic stainless steel table and two metal chairs that looked like they were bolted to the floor. If Aliah were here, she'd no doubt be making snarky remarks about their poor choice of interior designer. One of the chairs was empty, I assumed it was for me, but the other one had an occupant. As I sat down, I allowed myself to study him.

The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a suit; he had to be a foreigner, no native would be foolish enough to wear formal attire in this weather unless they wanted to get a bad case of heat stroke. I resisted the urge to tut at his stupidity and turned my attention to his face. He was young and explicitly good looking; dark hair tied back from his face, high cheek bones, strong features, eyes that were a strange mixture of ice blue and gun metal grey. He was not the kind of person you expected to come across in an Afghan prison.

"Sayah Lucas, I presume." His voice was as cold and calculated as his eyes, giving nothing away about himself or his reason for being here. "Do you speak English?"

"I do." I replied, wishing I had been allowed a drink before this so that my voice wasn't so croaky. I was only made more self conscious by the feel of his gaze on my face. When was the last time I smoothed down my hair, or washed my face? Why should I even care? I shouldn't. I moved my eyes to meet his, determined to prove I was not intimidated.

"I'm Special Agent Victor Benedict with the FBI. I'm here today to talk to you about a few things." FBI? Like the police? I tried to think back to all the crime movies I had watched; an image of spies and underground secret headquarters popped up and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from smiling when the mission impossible theme song floated through my mind. I cleared my throat, trying to remember the seriousness of the situation.

"What kind of things?" He reached inside his suit and out of the corner of my eye I saw the guard stiffen, only to relax again when he produced two photographs. He placed them on the table in front of me and I leant down for a closer look. As soon as I realised what they showed, I swung back, clamping my hand over my mouth. Two women, hands and feet bound, blood soaking their clothes from the identical cuts on their necks. I could feel my stomach start to churn, the images a little to close to a memory I had long since tried to bury. I reached out a shaky hand and turned the pictures over.

"Why are you showing me these?" My voice was barely more than a whisper but I knew he had heard. He picked up the photos and set them down again, right side up. I looked away.

"Is it that hard to look at your own work?" My head snapped round so fast I'm surprised I didn't break my neck. He was staring at me, waiting for my reaction, waiting for my answer.

"What?!"

"We have evidence." No. " We can prove it was you." NO. "You did this."

"You're wrong!" I was out of my seat only to be roughly pushed back down by the guard a second later. This couldn't be happening! Why was this happening?

"I don't even know those women. I've never seen them before!" My voice was shaking and tears were threatening to spill over. I pushed away the photos, he pushed them back.

"You're lying."

"Please, I've been here, you have to believe me!" I turned over the pictures. He turned them back.

"You're lying!"

"IT WASNT ME!"

"YOU KILLED THEM!" His voice shot through the room like a bullet and left me paralysed, breath caught in my throat, tears running silently down my cheeks. His eyes were on fire, chest heaving, hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. I had never been so scared of what someone could do. "You killed them and I'm going to make sure you spend the rest of your life paying for it."

He nodded to the guard and I was pulled to my feet, out the door, and stumbling after him down a corridor. I didn't bother arguing. I didn't dare. It would only fall on deaf ears anyway. This was truly the end.

There we have it! Like I mentioned up above, I don't have an update schedule yet but the next chapter should be up in no more than a couple of days. Thanks for reading...