I've read a lot of fanfiction where something or someone from Sam's past in the military comes back to haunt him, so I've decided to try and write one myself. Let's see how this goes, shall we?

Warning: This story will contain some elements and mentions of torture; nothing too detailed, but torture nonetheless. You have been warned and the story will be rated accordingly.

Enjoy!

Toronto

Another hard punch to the face broke through the darkness and brought him back to consciousness. Through the haze and pounding pain in his head, he opened his eyes and came face to face with one of his captors. "He's one of the new ones," he thought to himself as he racked his brain trying to remember. "But which one?" He was brought out of his thoughts by the movement he saw out of the corner of his very swollen eye; one of the guards walked over and handed something to the smirking man in front of him before quickly retreating back to his post. Focusing on the object in his captor's hands, his blood ran cold. "Oh yeah, he's the whip guy."

He tried to brace himself for what he knew was coming, but the injuries he received during his last run-in with his captors made moving incredibly painful and nearly impossible. His groan of pain brought a sick smile to his captor's face. Whip in hand, his captor moved towards him, slowly walking a circle around him. "Are you going to answer my question this time?" the man asked, his accent thick. "As soon as you tell me what I want to know, all of this pain can go away."

As tempting as the offer was, as much as he wanted the pain to stop, he could never and would never give up the information they wanted. Being the son of a General, he was raised as a soldier since birth, meaning he was a natural protector. Being a sniper, he was constantly watching over his team and that meant that he would do whatever it took to keep them safe-even if it meant losing his own life. He stared his captor in the eyes with the same unwavering determination he had at beginning of his imprisonment. Face to face with his captor, he saw the rage fill his eyes and the whip raise in a flash. The familiar feeling of leather strips tearing through the flesh on his chest was the next thing he recognized; once, twice...he stopped counting after the tenth strike, the crack of the whip mixing with his own grunts of pain and his captor's breathing, ragged from the exertion he was putting forth.

He was on the brink of unconsciousness, seconds away from giving into the pain, when the door was pushed open and the man he recognized as the leader, Saleem, entered the room and approached him, stopping just inches away. "My men tell me you are still being uncooperative, still holding on, hoping for a rescue... It's been over two months and still, your rescue has not come." Saleem gripped his hair and roughly pulled him closer. "Tell me what I want to know, and I'll at least make sure you're alive when, and if, your unit even finds you!"

A slight shake of the head was all he could muster before Saleem drove his knife into the side of his chest, quickly sending him back into the realm of unconsciousness.

Sam woke with a start, one hand immediately going to his chest as he catapulted up in bed. Panting, he looked around, realizing with great relief, that he was in his apartment and not back in that hell hole. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Sam laid back down, hand still on his bare chest, fingers tracing the almost completely faded scars. He hadn't had a nightmare about his time with Saleem and his men for almost a year and now that he had, he didn't know what to think. Sam had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach; had something happened or was something about to happen and the universe was somehow trying to warn him?

Unable to go back to sleep, Sam got up, changed, and went on a run. A long one. The rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement matched the rapid, staccato beating of his heart. As he ran, Sam caught himself being extra vigilant; checking rooftops for snipers, cautiously taking corners and checking alleys when he came to one, constantly yet discreetly looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was sneaking up on or following him, all things he hadn't done since his first few days back from his last tour. He knew he was being overdramatic, but he couldn't shake the bad feeling his nightmare left him with. Deciding that his run was only making him more wound up than he already was, Sam headed back to his apartment to shower and wait out the rest of the night until it was an appropriate time to head to the SRU. Although Sam was always the first person on Team One to arrive at the Barn for duty and loved his time in the gym, even he couldn't justify showing up for a 9:00am shift at 3:30 in the morning.

...

Ottawa

Colonel Robert Jackson was woken from his sleep by the shrill ringing of his phone. Groaning, Colonel Jackson rolled over and answered his phone. "Hello?"

"Colonel Jackson? I'm sorry to wake you at such an early hour, but we have a bit of a situation sir."

"What kind of situation, Sergeant?" Colonel Jackson grumbled into the phone.

"The kind that cannot be discussed over the phone, sir." Sergeant Andrew Perry replied, a hint of worry in his serious voice.

Sighing, Colonel Jackson got out of bed and began changing into his uniform. "I'll be there in ten."

"Yes sir."

Hanging up the phone, Colonel Jackson finished dressing and made his way out to his car. As he made his way to the base, he had a growing feeling that the news Sergeant Perry was going to tell him would not be good. As current commanding officer of JTF2, he was used to getting called into the office at all hours of the night when one of his units would call in with an update on their assignment, but this time felt different to him. He didn't know why, but he knew he wouldn't like what the Sergeant had to say.

A quick flash of his credentials and a salute to the privates on guard duty, Colonel Jackson made his way to his office, where he suspected Sergeant Perry would be waiting. His suspicions were confirmed when he pushed open his door and saw the sergeant sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Noticing that the usually calm and collected Sergeant was uncharacteristically anxious, Colonel Jackson quickly skipped the formalities and got down to business. "What's going on Sergeant?"

"We received an alert from Captain Michaels' unit that's extremely concerning."

"Captain Michaels...his unit's one of the ones going after a few of the terrorist cells, right?" Colonel Jackson asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes sir, his unit is the main one. His most recent update has caused quite a bit of concern and now, we need to know how you want to handle it." Seeing Colonel Jackson's gesture to continue, Sergeant Perry took a deep breath and continued. "Saleem Farhad and two of his men are here. In Canada."

Shocked, Colonel Jackson immediately sat forward and stared at his Sergeant. "You're sure?"

"Yes sir."

Colonel Jackson got out of his chair and began pacing around his office, anxiously running his hands down his face. He knew that when he got the call from Sergeant Perry that the result would not be good, but this was far worse than he expected. He stopped pacing and turned to look at Sergeant Perry. "Do we have any idea where Saleem and his men are now?"

"No sir, not at this time, but I have my men working on it as we speak."

"What about General Braddock? Has he been informed?"

"No sir. I thought it'd be best if I briefed you first."

Nodding, Colonel Jackson made his way back to his desk. "I'll handle General Braddock You go and check in with your men. The second you know ANYTHING, you tell me right away."

"Yes sir!" Sergeant Perry gave a salute then turned to leave. When he reached the door, he turned around and looked at Colonel Jackson. "Sir...do you think Saleem is going to go after Sam again?"

Phone in hand, Colonel Jackson looked at Sergeant Perry. "Unfortunately, yes. I think he's going to try."

Nodding sullenly, Sergeant Perry left the office. Colonel Jackson dialed the phone and listened to it ring, waiting for it to be picked up. When it was, and he heard his friend's grumbled answer, Colonel Jackson almost wished it wasn't. After all, the kind of news he was about to deliver was news that no one wanted to receive. With a sigh, Colonel Jackson began. "Will? We have a serious problem..."

That's it for the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed!

It's finals week so I won't be able to work on the next chapter until Thursday at the earliest so please bare with me as you wait for the next chapter!

If you want updates on the story and when I'm uploading next, you can always follow me on Twitter! Link is in my bio!
I might just tweet some spoilers every now and then!(;