Footsteps. Soft at first, a distant echo along the long corridors of the concrete maze which steadily grew closer. And louder. Through the darkness Jack could see the silhouette of the guard through the grate in the door to his cell. He watched as the mans posture changed, no longer slouching against the door, instead he stood straight, alert. Jack closed his eyes as the sound of scuffed shoes mixed with the heavy dull thud of steel capped boots. He shifted slightly against the cold floor, knowing, like his guard, that his captors were coming, for him. Cheng and soldiers, he assumed, by the pattern of the sounds, but unlike the uniformed man standing guard, keeping him prisoner, the gentle shift was all he could manage before pain rattled through his broken body, forcing him to lie still. Mentally, he fights back, but physically, all is lost.
It seemed as though Cheng had a fast forward button, for without warning the cell door screeched open and two burly men in camouflages overalls and hats pulled at him, twisting him onto his back and holding him still. A flash lit the room but Jack couldn't appreciate the stream of light that quickly bounced around the room from the camera as the bright explosion sent a burning stream of pain through his swollen irises and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, confused as the men suddenly dropped him back onto the floor, allowing him to curl back into the granite. They weren't moving him from the room - they aren't taking him for interrogation. Why?
The change in routine scared Jack, for it was the one thing he could rely on, the one real thing he could focus on - but now it was changing. The soldiers were gone, their heavy boots seeming farther and farther away, and yet … no rumble through the floor to signify the closure of the cell door. For a moment Jack thought of escape but as he shifted on the floor he realised he wasn't alone. Cheng. The man smiled gleefully at him and Jack tried not to look too curious, or scared by the change of what he has grown accustomed to. Jack squinted, and his gut twisted as he realises that the object Cheng holds is a camera. His thoughts spring frantically through images of government ransoms, Audrey, Chloe, Kim and even release, freedom.
He knows his spirit is weakening and quickly forces the thought of freedom from his mind. Hope still leaks in, like a draft through a bolted door, hope is a spark he can't quite extinguish. Until Cheng speaks.
"Mr Bauer will appreciate this photograph."
Confusion danced across his face as Jack tried to find the pieces of the riddle he was sure Cheng had thrown him.
"Philip," Cheng continued, and dread suddenly crept through Jack's consciousness. His father? Did he know of his imprisonment? Again the candle illuminating forbidden thoughts of freedom was lit but with them Jack felt anger. He didn't want his father to pay Cheng off, he would rather die in China than give his father the satisfaction of knowing he had failed.
"He was concerned, when we last spoke, of your condition."
Jack opened his eyes and stared up at Cheng, silently willing him to continue, the lack of knowledge regarding his father made his body tense far more than the anticipation of any torturous interrogation ever had.
"Given the duration of your stay, he thought I may have killed you, Jack."
As always, Jack felt the involuntary flinch shudder through his body as Cheng spoke his name.
"But I reassured him you were still alive, and would remain so, until you part with the information we require."
Jack stared at him dumbly - was his father involved in his capture? The idea seemed so preposterous, and yet at the same idea, Jack knew it wasn't impossible. If Philip could benefit, through money or power, he cared little for those who suffered. Even his own son?, Jack wondered, then grimaced, he had been disowned from his father many years ago - like he would care.
"You see Jack, Mr Bauer wants the same information I want, for we are working towards the same goal. We are, you could say," he paused to crouch down towards Jack, enjoying the pain, confusion and anger which all fought for dominance of his face, "business partners."
Jack fought the fear Cheng's presence inspired and internalised it, instead focussing on his anger, anger at Philip for his lack of morals, angry at himself for once again being under his power, his control. Of course, there was no reason to believe Cheng was telling the truth. This could be another mind game, designed to chip another piece of his mental resistance away. Jack grimly realised it was working. Cheng was anticipating some reaction, and Jack gave him one. Slowly, ignoring the pain in his gums and cracked lips, he smiled, and Cheng backed away slightly as he saw the dried blood around the prisoners mouth crumble slightly from the strain.
Retorts, abuse and sarcastic comments rumbled around Jack's mind, but he refused to voice them, knowing he had to stay silent, had to stay strong in order to keep going. The thoughts of his father and a possible betrayal spurred his mind towards Nina, and not for the first time during his capture, anger surged through him. Cheng had said nothing, and with a slight glare at him, Jack slowly struggled over onto his other side, his back to Cheng. He grunted as he moved, almost wanting to receive punishment for his disobedience. Pain would help channel his anger, but instead, Cheng quickly left the room. As the steel door was once more closed, Jack blinked in the darkness, knowing that Cheng's words, whether true or false, had backfired. It hadn't weakened Jack, it didn't upset him, it made him angry and gave him strength. Cheng had made a mistake, Jack realised, for they wouldn't break him this way, emotionally, with regards to Philip, he was already dead.