Disclaimer: If I owned this, Cassandra would be wearing the ugliest jumper I can find. Because even though she only shows up once or twice in OGSY, she's still Ally Carter's.
Sorry for how long this took me... anyway, review? Show to some friends? I don't know, but I only have three reviews, and this chica isn't happy, let me tell you. I'll let you read now.


I had been sitting in my torture chair for five months with the exceptions of using the bathroom and going to the electric chair, so you can imagine my surprise when Ms. Goode unstrapped me.

"What are we doing today? Walking through the park and getting some ice cream? It's on me," I told her with a simple smile that told her whatever you're doing; it's not going to work.

"Oh no, I just thought you'd appreciate walking around a little. If you can." she told me with a sneer. She knew very well that I couldn't, without a great deal of pain, that is. I remembered back to the first month of being here- that was the worst part, adjusting to the life of a prisoner. Every word out of my mouth brought pain, and any movement made the tears run down my cheeks. I would sit there, feeling as if every grain of my body was on fire, and the fix to it was a simple answer of "in Sub-level Four". That was the first time I truly felt weak, like I was nothing. I was just a pawn in the story that was missing its fairytale ending. I knew I was going to die in the dank grey 10x10 room. I also knew that the bad guys aren't always beaten; that sometimes they win against all odds. I wouldn't help them, if it was the last thing I did.

"Come on, Cammie. You can do it, can't you? All it take is a few steps." Ms. Goode's teases brought me back to today, a place I sincerely wanted to leave. When I didn't walk on my mangled legs, she snapped, "Who would've thought that a spy couldn't walk? A Gallagher girl spy, no less. I thought you prided yourselves on the ability to keep moving, I'd hate to see what you need to work on!" her comments were too much for me. I quickly lunged at her, pushing off on my legs, which hurt enough to make me want to cry out. "Aagh!" Cassandra was on the floor, terrified and breathless and shocked all at the same time. And I was on top of her, in full control. I fought the urge to pummel her, that wouldn't get me anywhere. Ms. Goode started to struggle, so I pinned her arms down and kept myself steady, just like they taught me so long ago at Gallagher.

"What did you mean, Zach's alive? You showed me that he died with everyone else." I spat at her. "I watched as your goons dragged them all away with guns to Liz and Jonas' head. Tell me the truth!" I shouted the last part, finally showing emotions after four months.

She smiled at this and told me in a sickly sweet voice, "There are three cameras in this room, Cameron, all with a great view of your ordeals. And all being live-streamed to your precious friends, who are alive and well. No thanks to you." she paused, and told me in less than a whisper, "You are but bait to the true need, but the information you give us will help. The information that you do not give will bring your boyfriend one step closer to coming to your rescue." I gave her a well-doesn't-this-just-give-it-away look, to which she once again scolded me with a, "There's no audio in here, princess. All they know is that you're having a pleasant conversation with me as you look completely stunned sitting on my chest." I calculated for a few seconds before I realized that the Blackthorne boys had already taken lip reading "By the way, how're your ribs?" at this, Ms. Goode jabbed me in the ribs, to which I gasped out of shock and pain and rolled off of her. She was referring to the week before, before I learned that everybody was alive. Cassy had a hammer with her, and let's just say that my ribs were her focal point that day. I still couldn't breathe right.
Just as I started to get my breathing right again, Blondie and the other goon from the day before came into the room.

"Gary, I'll be out for a few minutes. I have some… business to attend to. How about you and Cecile take care of our guest? Make sure she's nice and cozy." Well, now I knew their names, but that hardly mattered to me at the moment. With a not-so-pleasant smile, Gary nodded and started cracking his neck. He was enjoying this way too much. "Oh, but please don't kill her, that would be just dreadful, now wouldn't it, dearie?" I glared at Cassy to the best of my ability -without it hurting too much- before she left.

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As it turns out, a few minutes turned into the whole day. Gary and Cecile, apparently, were much better than Cassandra at torturing people. With them, even after the five months with Cassandra's different forms of torture, it took about two minutes for me to nearly crack. While Ms. Goode focused on one form of pain, one part to focus on each day, Gary and Cecile tag teamed. They took turns about every half hour, one physically hurting me with all the tortures Cassandra came up with plus some and the other taking their toll on my mental state, talking about friends and family that I would never see again, telling me how much better their lives were because I had left. The hardest part about hearing this coming from Gary was that I believed him. I could almost see Zach and Macey together- something that I had been preventing ever since I met him. I could hear Bex's voice as she and Grant laughed about all the stupid things I had done since we met, which was a list so long it would write a book longer than War and Peace. Liz talking to Jonas about having to tutor me for the first two years because of the shock I felt at my dad being as good as dead. The details Gary had used- ones that only my closest friends could even be able to guess about- had me sure that Gary wasn't lying.

With the emotional wreck of my mind, one backhand slap from Cecile with the most predictable question of "Where is the Gallagher alumni disk?" was almost enough to get the answer out of me. The only thing that saved me was Mr. Solomon. He told us that, no matter what the situation is, double-check it. Lay out the facts to make sure they fit. I took a deep breath as I tried to slip the mask back on to cover up the despair, and thought about what Gary had just told me. Then, I skimmed through everything Cassandra had told me; focusing more the closer I came to the present. As I came to that morning, I stopped. And laughed. At that, Cecile looked shocked for a microsecond before she hit me harder than even Cassandra had. Apparently, I had woken her up from a very precious beauty nap, which sent me into a hysterical laughing fit that took too long for me to realize that it was hurting my ribs. As I realized this, Gary started up his turn to slap me.

Cecile tapped Gary's shoulder and motioned for them to talk away from me.

"What the hell does she think is so funny?" Cecile asked in outrage, "This should be making her cry for Christ's sake! If we went through all the trouble to-"

"Shut up!" Gary hissed back. "Just because she's hysterical doesn't mean she's deaf!"

To this, Cecile huffed before marching up to me and huffing, "Well bitch, I-"

"Potty-mouth!" I screeched, knowing I was in for it. Just like the calm before a storm, Cecile's expression was one that could only be found worn by her during sleep. It was one of innocence. In a flash it was gone and I wasn't sure if it was my mind was playing tricks with me or if I just wanted a reason to pity someone other than myself.

"As I was saying," Cecile continued, "What the hell do you think is so fucking funny?"

I couldn't resist; I put on a neutral expression and said, "Well aren't we PMSing today?" Before she hit me again, I quickly continued with a sigh. "If you must know what's so funny, it's the fact that you bad guys don't cooperate together very well. Haven't you noticed? It's like…. It's like you're trying to send me subliminal messages shouting out, 'hey Cammie! Your friends are fine but they miss you terribly. Don't mind the whole everyone hates you and that's a fact charade, they know you love them. Don't give up either, kiddo. Oh, and don't cry; you're a Gallagher Girl.'" I continued to tell my audience all about how Ms. Goode- a person that was most likely four positions above them- had just told me that very same morning how the Circle had planned to lure Zach into the base and that any information was just icing on the wedding cake. As I said this in as masked of a voice that I could, I stared at a little slightly off dot on the dank walls. Since that morning, I had found the three cameras that Cassandra was talking about and made sure that any useful information had the speaker facing towards one of the dots. If they didn't, then I would simply restate it when the cameras would catch it.

I tried to incorporate as many little messages to my friends as I could in the little "talk" that the Cassy, Gary and Cecile's information had formed in my head. The second sentence told them that I loved them, the third that I missed them and knew what the Circle was doing. The third and the fourth were more personal messages to two specific people. I said "kiddo" to feel what little connection I could at the moment to Mom; and the fourth pretty much told Zach to stay strong (his nickname for me is Gallagher Girl).

Since I had come up with the plan twelve seconds before I initiated it, nothing for Bex, Liz, Macey, Grant or Jonas popped into my head to use that wouldn't shout, "hey everyone! I'm just sending a secret message to my friends via your not-so-clever live streaming.' I mean sure, I could've said something about a bombshell for Bex and Alabama for Liz, shopping or politics for Macey and a Greek god remark for Grant (Bex would get it). And for Jonas, anything about hacking would've worked. At that moment, I realized that talking to your friends in a real life coded conversation was much like making up comebacks. At the moment, you're at a loss for words; but later that night, or even just after the window of time is gone, you come up with the perfect thing to say. The hardest part about finding it is that you know that there's a slim chance that you'll ever get to use it.

The creepiest part about practically spilling my guts out to Gary and Cecile is that Gary was staring off into space and Cecile looked as if she was trying hard not to cry. If it was just Gary then I think I could've started talking about cheez-its in the same tone of voice and he wouldn't notice.

Just as my story was finished, Cassandra came back in. There was both pride and a sneer on her face, a look that aged her ten years. Being the cover of a cocky, preppy and sarcastic teenage girl, I told her exactly that, to which I earned a backhanded slap.

"Sooo…" I dragged the word out and continued, "Why are you so proud of yourself? Kill a defenseless three year old and make the parents watch the child's torture?" The thing that made me recoil was not the answer or the threat of being hit; it was the gleam in her eyes as she pictured what I suggested.

"No. But now that you mention it, I must get enough time on my schedule to do that. Any who, I suppose it can't hurt to tell you what's happening." Trying my best to ignore her first sentence, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes or sigh at her naivety. Was she really that careless that she would forget that her son, that she was sending live video feed to, had already covered lip reading in CoveOps? Or that, even if the Blackthorne boys hadn't been trained in it yet, that Mr. Solomon was?

"So the director asked me to visit him in the conference room and, of course, I thought I was literally dead meat. Instead, it was an invasion counsel. The meeting took much longer than I thought war meetings took, but hey, at least I'm not dead yet, right? Hey, don't look at me that way, I've never been to one and in all the movies they always say, 'Okay, so here's the plan- Cassandra will lead the invasion into the CIA, all right? Any questions?' but nooo, we have to go on and on about what we'll do, repeating it a thousand times…" I felt like her diary, so after that I simply half-listened.

"What the hell am I to you, a diary?" I nearly shouted it, getting tired of listening to her feelings about the director. "So what? You're going to lead the mission to invade the bloody CIA and steal the blueprints to a bloody nuclear bomb! That's fucking good for you!" I was channeling my inner Bex, knowing that when she shouts at someone for a good reason, it somehow gets them all riled up and they usually slip up and tell more than they mean to.

"So what? You think this is some small nuclear bomb that will destroy the state of Massachusetts? Because it's not! This is the kind of bomb that you see destroying Russia! And that's exactly what it's going to do in three weeks if all goes according to plan, bitch!" With that, Cassandra slapped me. I knew that it would just earn me a beating, but I had to make sure that Gary or Cecile didn't block the cameras pointing at Cassandra.

In a cool and collected voice, I replied, "What is destroying Russia going to do for you? Honestly, I thought you said that that was where the Circle of Cavan originated. Why destroy its hometown?" Every once in a while, I would glance at the camera that had a perfect view of my face to make sure Zach, Jonas, Grant, Macey, Liz and Bex knew I was directing this information to them.

Exasperated at having to explain everything to me, Cassandra sighed and answered, "They turned against us in 1942. The Circle had been created in 1863, when Gilly Gallagher killed Ioseph Cavan. Base 001's last message to us was 'this is not what the Circle of Cavan was created for' which is what every base, from 002 to 956, heard. They've been the number one threat to us- they know our secrets, how we work, and where each of our bases are located. That is why we have to get rid of them. They're about to win."

There was a somber look on her face, so I tried to match it with a gentle voice as I said, "If Russia turned, then why doesn't the CIA know about it? I mean, for all we know, they're just testing your strength." I risked a glance at the camera and shook my head, meaning I don't believe this for a second before continuing, "Cassy, it's okay. There's going to be at least thirty true Circle members in there, trying to figure out the truth. Do you really want to bomb them and maybe even a whole base without finding out the truth?"

Cassandra was rattled by this thought. "I must be leaving now. Cecile, Gary, come with me now." With that, my three torturers left me in my chair, relieved that I had brought at least a hint of doubt into Cassandra's plans. I slumped down in my seat as far as I could go and sighed in relief.


Love it? Hate it? Rate it! QUESTION! I'm doing next chapter in the point of view of one of the protagonists at Gallagher. Who should it be? (Please don't say Tina or Anna, I'm thinking more like Bex, Liz, Macey, Zach, Grant, Jonas, Ms. Morgan or Mr. Solomon; but I'm leaning more towards one of the students.)