...

Rachel stood facing Bradley's amplifier. It was now energizing and emitting a low humming sound - the dangling light bulb in one of the two entry ways began to flicker on. He really had been close to completing it before last night. "It's a bomb…. It's a very sophisticated time bomb…"The thought of her own actions against him made her hands tremble so she tried to focus on the task at hand. Something she could control. She needed to get herself, and now both of her children, away from this place.

Gun shots unexpectedly rang out down the corridor. Rachel jumped "What's going on?"

Please don't be Danny and Charlie.

"Go find out what's going on" an annoyed Sgt. Will Strausser spat at the 3 wide eyed soldiers in his presence. They turned on their heels and darted up the stairs and out of sight.

Rachel immediately felt a new danger; the energy in the room changed as Strausser's gaze fell on her, traveling up and down. She was alone with him, again. Rachel slid her hand onto a hammer lying on a bench to her left. An uneasy chill crawled up her spine as he approached her from behind -reaching up to brush his fingertips down her back. She could feel his hot breath on her neck.

"Don't worry Mrs. Matheson, I'm sure everything's gunna be fine."

All she could think of was Danny and Charlie. She had to get out. She had to go to them. They were all she had left and they needed her. She was not going to let this happen again. Strausser was about to get no less than he deserved. She was going to make sure of it. This was her chance.

She clutched the hammer and spun swinging hard at his head. Strausser blocked the swing with his arm and let out a pained grunt knocking the hammer to the floor beneath the table. Rachel immediately felt his elbow impact with her jaw as she was propelled against the workbench biting into her own lip. He seized her waist whipping her around and shoving her to the ground like a rag doll. She struggled to get up but he climbed on top of her and pulled her across the floor trapping her body beneath his. He pinned her arms. She could feel his arousal against her and it made her stomach turn. Instinctively she spat the freshly pooling blood from her mouth in his face. He let go with surprise and drew his sword grabbing her by the throat. She stilled as she felt the blade touch her jaw.

"Monroe want's me alive" she reminded him in a vain attempt for control.

"So do I, it's much more fun that way" was his ominous retort.

….

Miles and Nora had split off from their small group of rebels, letting the others do the distracting so they could work on the extracting. Miles heard footsteps below them as they entered a main passageway. That's when he saw Charlie and Danny beneath him making their way behind some old large factory machinery. He bolted around to the nearest stairwell; Nora was hot on his heels. Shots rang out as Miles rounded the corner- instinctively and deftly he unsheathed his sword thrusting the saber through the back of Charlie and Danny's detainer.

"Miles" gasped Charlie, she was wide-eyed as she took a step back to align with her brother whose only reply to the scene that just played out before him was "You're uncle Miles?"

Miles glanced up after obtaining the weapon from the corpse at their feet and said "and you're the reason we're in so much trouble, ya alright?"

"Yeh, I'm ok…" Danny breathed.

"We gotta go" Miles quickly replied.

Charlie shook her head vetoing the plan "We can't… My mom's here"

…

Strausser smirked and his ice blue eyes drifted down to Rachel's exposed collarbone and cleavage then back up - in that short moment the smirk turned serious. He held her there under his weight and against his blade as he took his other hand slowly from her neck reaching into his chest pocket and pulling out a needle loaded with a clear fluid.
Rachel's eyes widened and she swallowed.

"No!"

"No, no , no… wait.. Please"

Rachel desperately pushed her hands against her attacker's throat. Strausser groaned in frustration tossing his sword in anger towards a far wall, out of reach. He grabbed her wrists pinning them to her chest as he uncapped the drug with his teeth and jammed the needle into the side of her neck. Plunging her almost instantly into pain as the hot liquid began to course through her bloodstream. Her face silently screamed as he removed the syringe. Her breath heaved.

"This time Mrs. Matheson, you are going to play nice"

She knew he was referring to their most recent "session" when he had her restrained to a chair which was ironically ended up hindering his advances. She had coerced him into un-cuffing her wrists so he could make things "more comfortable" then she proceeded to stab him in the thigh with his own scalpel that lay on the table beside them.

It had been a couple of months and this was the first time she had been alone with him since. Their last encounter had ended with her spending just over a week in Monroe's infirmary, and Bass had not been happy with Strausser for his "excessive tactics" considering all it had yielded him as far as information from her were the schematics of a basic kitchen toaster.

…..

Miles' head was spinning- Rachel was alive, not dead… Alive. How was this possible. He left when? it was… 5-? no 6- years ago. Over 6 fucking years ago! He suddenly felt dizzy.

"Rachel's s.. sshe's alive?"

"Yeh Monroe's been keeping her as a prisoner" Charlie relayed

Miles was clearly lost for words, his eyes darted around the room trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"OK, you gotta get Danny out of here"

Shots again rang out and the four of them ducked as pipe fragments ricocheted dangerously close. Miles quickly took aim and silenced the attacker. He turned back and yelled "GO!" Nora leapt forward and ordered "C'mon!"

They disappeared from his sight without a second glance.

Miles's adrenaline infused body propelled him deeper into the compound- his chest tightened as he replayed in his mind what he had just heard.

"Ok" that's what he'd said. OK!? This is ANYTHING but OK. Rachel, Bass… He had to find her, now.

…..

Strausser's attention redirected momentarily towards the entry as the muffled echo of shots rang out. Rachel's eyesight began to blur as little white floating dots passed in and out of her vision. She heaved and twisted to her side attempting to crawl away. Strausser yanked her arm wrenching it up behind her back forcing her face down on the cold hard cement. She defiantly pushed up with her other arm that was trapped beneath her and that's when she heard it the all too familiar pop* in her left shoulder, her scream sounded almost animalistic and even stunned Strausser, but more than startle him- it turned him on, she could feel him growing harder against her body. It was happening, again.

This was the 3rd time Strausser had dislocated that shoulder.

…..

Rachel?!

Miles stopped at what he thought was the sound of an isolated scream- but it was quiet again- was it a scream?

Was his guilt ridden mind now playing tricks on him?

He moved cautiously through a connecting tunnel with high windows- the light outside was beginning to fade making the dark inside much harder to navigate.

…

Rachel let out a sob abandoning her flight plan. He eased off of her arm as she forced her muscles to relax letting her head drop to the floor in submission. A tear had involuntarily started trailing over the bridge of her nose and down her cheek from the pain in her shoulder as well as the frustration of her situation.

Strausser jerked her by the hair forcing her neck to arc back towards him. Letting out a gasp, Rachel's could feel her nose flaring and her senses heighten. He leaned down and dragged his tongue along her jawline- tasting the blood that was smeared there. Her eyebrows furrowed and she closed her eyes in disgust.

In a haggard tone Rachel began a newly drug hazed plea "M-Monroe… is going to come- Will, pleasse… if you just let me go now- I swear I won't…"

"Won't what? No one is gunna save you this time. The amplifier is finished and you and I are going to have a little celebration. If you're good, I might forget about the hammer."

There actually had been a few instances in the past when she had been "saved" by Monroe- when he had unexpectedly walked in on them and forced Strausser to retire early because he wasn't getting any information. Sometimes Monroe's presence alone during interrogations kept Strausser's mind out of seriously twisted and sick state it would go to when they were alone. The sad part was that Bass didn't even know he was preventing it. He didn't know a lot of what Sgt. Will Strausser had put her through over the years. Rachel would take Monroe over Strausser in an interrogation room any day. Of course she'd been hurt by Monroe as well, physically and mentally. She had seen him callously kill people, but she also had a gut feeling Bass needed her for more reasons than he was willing to admit.

Strausser released her hair and took hold of her upper arms dragging her backwards to her feet- She growled through the pain in her now nearly useless left arm and crossed her right hand over to cup her injured shoulder as she staggered back complying with his demand. The room had begun to spin and she was having difficulty holding her head up. With her back held against him Strausser slid his arm around her waist holding her in place against his raging erection. He turned them and pressed her down face first onto the surface of the workbench. Her mind was fighting with her body. In her head she was screaming, but her body was not listening to her.

"Breathe Rachel." she told herself.

He slipped his hand under her shirt and let his fingers rake across and own her flesh. He reached up kneading into the soft tissue of her breast. She shook her head "no" and tried to resist as Strausser pushed her head down further- bending her at the waist against the countertop. She desperately tried to regain her footing as he began reaching down to the front of her pants. With her cheekbone pressed against the cold metal table, the sensation of his touch reaching into her panties throttled her a second time. Rachel furiously snapped her head back directly into his nose. He reeled in pain and released her, taking a few steps back. Blood began to drip from Strausser's face.

Her vision was doubling and the adrenaline was causing everything to happen in slow motion. The smell of dust, the taste of iron from the blood in her mouth, the hum of the amplifier, the feel of the ground coming up to meet her as she had attempted to turn and face her attacker. She'd broken his nose. –His fist connected harshly against her cheek- and she landed like a rock. He dropped down to kneel over her, unmistakably enraged. She was blinking hard and could feel his blood droplets rhythmically landing on her shirt. Rachel was struggling to back away when she saw the second needle come into focus.

"Please… oh, n… wait… Will, please, I will do what you w-want...whatever you want." Rachel said trying her best to sound convincing. Her hands reached out for him again but this time submissively, not touching him but floating in a surrendering position.

He wiped the blood from his nose on his sleeve and gave her an almost gentle smile and whispered:

"I know you will."

His breath was heavy as lowered his chest against hers pressing her down hard against the concrete floor with his crushing weight. He brushed a bloody blonde strand of hair from her face and caressed her cheek softly.

"Shhh, Mrs. Matheson. Shh, it's gunna be fine."

She kept eye contact with him- her eyes searching his- as he slowly, methodically sent the second needle injection into her neck still hushing her as he withdrew the syringe. She trembled hard and contracted as her breath became slow and irregular.

…..

Miles felt like his heart was beating out of chest as he was searching room by room

Where are you Rachel? Where ARE you? It had been years since he'd been here- Bass had lied to him. How was she… Why would he keep her after all this time? Where would he keep her?

He checked the obvious interrogation rooms, nothing. It was dark now and he could hear gunfire out in the courtyard. He assumed the soldiers stationed here had been called to assist with his little "rebel invasion" and that's why the area he was in seemed abandoned.

Had she already gotten out? Did Bass move her because they had come?

….

Strausser pulled back and paused to watch inquisitively as the narcotics took further hold of Rachel's body. Her lips parted and her eyes remained open but her head lolled to stare off over her right shoulder. He smiled in accomplishment at her noticeably broken spirit. His breath quickened as he parted her legs centering himself on his knees in between. He drug his hands down over her hips and stroked the tops of her thighs with his palms.

"That's right; let it go-Rachel- let it go. We'll take this nice and slow"

She'd never taken 2 shots in this short a time span before. Is this how it ends? Ben, Danny, Charlie. In her mind she had failed them all. "Do you know how bad this is gunna get for you? Do you think I care?" Miles's words haunted her. She had truly believed he would protect her and even let her go home when he realized she couldn't turn the power back on. Miles. "Miles is here? Did he hurt you?"

She could hear the blood pumping through her ears as she began emitting a hissing noise through her newly locked jaw. Her chest rose and fell in shaky protest and then a clammy sensation engulfed her. Rachel's back abruptly arched sending her body into involuntary convulsions, Strausser looked at her with wide eyed awe and slight unease as her muscles began to seize. The sounds coming out of her were unrecognizable, guttural, pain, whimpering, harsh breaths, held breaths. She could hear herself and the sound triggered her tears to roll down the back of her throat causing her to feel like she was choking. Her vision tunneled and then everything went black.

Strausser took his opportunity, moving with more purpose now- Rachel's body was limp and her eyes closed – He quickly crossed the room, opened a bag resting in the corner and returned spinning his all too familiar scalpel like a kid with a book of matches– he looked down and eyed eagerly the way her breasts shifted with each ragged breath. He returned to his position between her thighs , moved his hand under her shirt and squeezed her breast again, feeling the soft warmth of her flesh as brought his mouth down on her neck, biting and tasting. He leaned back and moved to undo his trouser belt and buckle.

"Mrs. Matheson you are a masterpiece."

….

Miles heard voices and rounded the corner cautiously. Weapon drawn he turned to face 2 soldiers in what looked like a warehouse office discussing whether or not to join the rest of the group or head back to Monroe's secured area. They hadn't seen him but Miles didn't have time to stand around waiting. He raised his rifle and entered the room loudly. They both stopped like deer in the headlights, panicked. One of them reached for his pistol but Miles quickly cautioned him "I …wouldn't do that if I were you." The soldier abandoned his thought instantly and they simultaneously raised their hands in surrender.

"Drop your weapon and kick it to me "Miles ordered pointing at the taller solider first, before turning and repeating the same command to the other.

"Where is Monroe keeping Rachel Matheson?" Miles angled his head maniacally and demanded.

The soldiers eyed each other obviously confused at the inquiry, neither sure how to reply.

"Rachel Matheson… If you don't know then yer of no use to me." Miles quipped while arching an eyebrow, taking aim and locking the bolt action in place on his rifle.

"Hey wait- okay? Okay- I think… she's in the old generator room." The second taller soldier stated as his comrade eyed him in disapprovingly.

"Which way?"

They both pointed in unison. Miles let his eyes glance down the hall before returning to his captives.

He let his tongue dart out to lick his lips and kept his rifle trained on them.

"Got cuffs?"

The second soldier sighed. "yeh"

"Toss me the keys." They both dropped the keys and kicked them to Miles obediently.

"I want you to cuff yerselves to the column behind you. Do it now." Miles ordered.

The two men walked to the center of the room dropped down to the floor, locked their arms around the support beam and then secured themselves into their own cuffs looking up at Miles for approval.

"If I hear ya yell- I will come back and kill ya. Understood?"

Both men nodded in defeat.

Charlie would be pleased.

Miles collected the pistol from the floor and retrieved the ammo from the extra rifle before making his way back to the hall.

Well, at least that was quieter than it could have been.

He exited the room and listened to the 2 soldiers begin to bicker over who hadn't noticed him standing there then he quickly headed in the direction they had pointed.

…

Rachel's eyes fluttered open. Once again she stared up directly into Strausser's steel blue eyes. Everything was still moving in slow motion. He was grinning as he reached between them, rubbing and cupping her center through her pants. His nose was smeared with blood but it had stopped dripping. Rachel bit down on her lower lip as he rubbed against her and tried to focus on something else instead. Her senses intensified and she fixated on the feel of the blood slicked strands of hair stuck to the side of her neck. Strausser stared down at her with a wild look in his eye and then he flashed his metal blade. He tugged Rachel's shirt up and inverted the scalpel, dragging the handle in down her sternum and across her abdomen. He was taunting her, daring her to try something. Her stomach muscles flexed of their own accord. She bucked her hips testing her strength and Strausser quickly and tightly grasped her thighs pulling her against him as he broke the silence.

"Which number are we on? Rachel? Should I count?"

He called her by her first name when he switched mindsets. "Mrs. Matheson" was his foreplay- what turned him on, "Rachel" was his trophy.

She turned her head away.

37, is what she told herself. This was the 37th time she would be marked by him either physically or mentally. The 37th time they will have had an encounter over the years that has left her defeated. There was nothing she could say - he wasn't there for information.

Somewhat disappointed by Rachel's lack of enthusiasm Strausser grabbed her hips and gave an angry thrust against her – forcing the air out of her. She winced, silently cursing herself for letting him elicit a reaction.

He flipped the button of her pants open and unzipped them in an oddly gentle but swift manner. Rachel's hand instinctively reached down for him to stop in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. As though he were unveiling a masterpiece he tugged at the waistline of her pants not pulling them off but merely exposing her hipbones, and panties – he bent over her watching her face as he traced an old set of scars he had created inside her right hipbone, three chevrons etched together. It had taken a half dozen encounters spanning over months before he was pleased with his work, crafting them. He had one for each rank he gained in the militia.

She felt like vomiting as he adjusted himself over her and turned her onto her stomach; her left arm was trapped beneath her and it felt like broken glass was crawling through her shoulder. As she painstakingly pulled her arm free trying to keep it close to her side, Rachel could feel the cold floor on her bare abdomen and she found it strangely comforting. She felt a wave of pressure overwhelming her as Strausser repositioned his mount. She stared at a deep crack in the floor, and then she began shuddering again. As Rachel's body tensed and tightened with spasms Strausser held her down possessively. He raised the back of her shirt, caressing the soft flesh there, waiting for her drug induced twitches to stop. He took the time to admire the beautiful damage he had inflicted over the years. Rachel finally slowed and released a long ragged breath. She was completely drained.

Strausser held her firmly while moving down to rest his full weight on the backs of her thighs- his erection still fighting to be released from his unbuckled pants.

First, he had to take care of business and with movements like that of an artist's; he took his scalpel and moved it lightly above Rachel's milky white flesh imagining the lines as if it were that of a paint brush on canvas, his lip curled, and his eyes darkened as he began to engrave the new mark in the soft tissue of her lower left back. Rachel arched and her eyes snapped shut thrusting her right hand behind her trying in vain to grasp ahold of his arm. Her legs writhed and thrashed with each stroke as she let her screams come out.

"- ahhHHAaa" Rachel cried out and turned her forehead to the floor. She began to hit the concrete with her palm in pain as she felt the warm drip of blood run down her back and side.

….