Thank you for still reading this stroy. Here's a new chapter.

But I'm warning you, there are HEAVY Sam whumps featured in this one. I mean, real brutal. So if you're not into that kind of stuff, please DO NOT READ. Skip this and wait for the next chapter. Consider yourself WARNED.

They drowned him a couple more times afterwards, before they revived him yet again to be interrogated. His answer was always the same. Piss of. Up yours. Take a hike.

Translation, no passcodes.

Ross was now in shirtsleeves after shedding his suit jacket hours ago. He and his men had been torturing Sam all through the night with no positive result. The ex-JTF2 was either too tough or too stubborn or too plain stupid.

Maybe all off the above.

Rubbing a tired hand down his weary face, Ross stared in frustration at the captive sitting slump in the chair. He thought hard on other effective means to force the passcodes out of Sam's mouth. Ross couldn't rest until then, as time was running short. His handler had given him a deadline. They all must leave the country with the passcodes before the 1200 hours, or they would be too late to make their getaway.

Sam was shaking so bad from the cold and fatigue, but he never uttered any complaints. The only sign to his distress and pain was the occasional groans that he could barely contain. His body had already reached the limit of its endurance. Who knew how much further his physique could last the brutal abuses. He needed to time this right. Too early, and these men would not buy it. But if he held on overly too long, he would succumb to his own death. Then all his sufferings would be for nothing.

At a snap of his fingers, Ross gathered with his men in a corner to discuss the situation under low voices. There was a brief argument which Ross quickly cut down with several sharp words. As one of them rushed out of the room, Ross came to stand in front of their captive.

Sam gave him a lopsided smile. "What's wrong? Ran out of ideas?"

Ross returned the smile. "Oh, we're just getting started."

"Cool. I begin to enjoy the hospitality," Sam responded through chattering teeth.

"I'm glad you approve."

When his man came back into the room with some items, Ross' expression instantly turned grim. "So. Shall we try again?"

Sam watched warily as Ross held up a cellophane tape, saying, "Such a harmless item. And yet it can be very useful in your case."

The other two men grabbed Sam's face and pulled his eyelids apart. Grinning, Ross came closer and used four strips to tape Sam's eyelids down. After he finished, Sam's eyes stayed wide open. He couldn't even blink. Almost instantly, his eyes began to dry up. The discomfort was so awful that Sam nearly cried uncle there and then. But he stubbornly held on.

A little bit more, Sam. Just a little bit more.

"That's it? That's your smart plan? By giving me a face lift?" Sam attempted to joke.

"You might think this funny now," said Ross with growing impatience. "Let's see how you feel in another hour when your eyeballs shrivel up and die. Then you're gonna talk."

"Don't count on it, you bastard!" Sam shot back. "You're just the minion. An underling. I don't talk to minions. Do whatever you want but you will get nothing from me. I swear on this."

Ross reached over to wrap his hand around Sam's throat. "I will make you talk."

"I'd rather die first."

"I will make your death a slow excruciating one."

"You can't afford to kill me slowly." Sam smirked back. "You're out of time."

With a slight narrowing of his eyes, Ross yelled and punched Sam in the jaw. He then raised one foot and pressed it firmly against Sam's unprotected groin.

Writhing with agony, Sam couldn't help but audibly moaned. His arms and legs jerked in reflex to protect his abused private parts, but he was held fast by the bonds. Ross pressed harder until Sam began to scream.

"The passcodes, Braddock!" Ross shouted.

"Fuck you!" Sam shouted back, already gone into spasm in his seat.

When his captive still refused to reveal what he wanted to hear, Ross yanked back his foot with a cry of frustration. He turned to his men.

"Sleep deprivation," Ross yelled at them and stormed out of the room.

One man came forward with a headphone. He jammed it around Sam's head and cranked up the volume as high as it would go. Horrible thrash metal song blasted into Sam's eardrums, making him think that his brain was about to explode.

Their job done, the two men walked out of the room, leaving Sam to his absolute misery.

"Operation Virus? What the hell is Operation Virus?" Ed yelled as he glared at the military man who stood in the SRU's briefing room the next morning.

General Braddock met Ed Lane's gaze without any sign of wavering and calmly replied, "Operation Virus is what we call a black op where our asset allows himself to be abducted by the enemy and tortured for classified information."

The room went eerily silent as entire Team One stared in great disbelief at Sam's father.

"You've got to be kidding," Spike finally muttered, still in shock. "Sir, tell me you're joking."

"It's not a joke, Mr. Scarlatti," Braddock senior replied, his head shaking. "Sam is carrying out a mission for me, as he has done several times before."

Close to tears, Jules sat unmoving with a hand covering her mouth. Raf reached over and squeezed her hand, showing her his support.

"Let me get this straight," Parker said, stepping forward with his arms akimbo. "Your son is now in the hands of a group of hostiles, being tortured, while we all sit here and do nothing about it?"

General Braddock looked grim. "We wait."

"Wait for what?" Ed exploded, his face turning red with anger. "You already know where they hold him, don't you? You can trace Sam's whereabouts from the tracking chip you planted in his back."

"Yeah, I know exactly where Sam is," Braddock retorted. "But we must not interfere until the time is right!"

"What are you saying? What timing?" Jules demanded to know as she leapt to her feet and advanced on the General. "Don't you have any care for your son's safety?"

Braddock's gaze softened towards Jules. "Sam knows what he's doing. He realizes what's at stake and he's ready for anything."

"You're sure about that?" Parker said with barely control rage. "Sam is out there risking himself without our clearance. He has no backup. He is being tortured and god knows what else. He would die if we do not go in now and rescue him!"

"We will not do any such thing! Not yet. We must wait for the signal."

"What signal? Why is that so important?"

With a weary sigh, the General turned to take a seat. He stared at his hands clasped atop the table before he spoke, "Look, I came here not to argue with anyone. I'm here to tell you not to worry about Sam, and not to take actions into your own hands. If you don't do as I say, then Sam will die."

Parker and the rest exchanged doubtful looks, still not reassured by the General's words.

Team One had been worried sick when Sam never appeared for that day's shift. He had not answered his phone, and he had failed to return calls. Imagine the team's surprise when Sam's father suddenly appeared unannounced with his entourage at the Barn earlier that morning and demanded to have a closed audience with Team One. As military personnel stood guard outside the closed doors, the team had locked themselves inside the briefing room to receive the bombshell from the General.

Ed dragged a chair and sat next to the older man. "I can't believe you're saying all this. You sacrifice your own son for a damn mission? What kind of a father are you?"

Braddock snapped a ferocious glare Ed's way. "Don't even go there, Lane. You don't know me. You don't even know my son, not like you thought you do. You have no idea what he's capable of."

"Okay, okay. Let's take it easy here. We're all on the same side, remember?" said Parker, ever the peacekeeper. He also sat down. "General, please bear with us. Start at the beginning. What's this all about?"

Braddock took a few moments to consider and said, "It's about the codes to the missing nuclear warhead, the codes that Matt passed to Sam. The hostiles now have them."

They all gasped out loud, while Ed exploded once again, "WHAT?!"

"Oh my God…" Jules muttered, turning as pale as white sheet.

"How could that be?" Spike asked. "I thought Sam has handed over the codes to you for safekeeping."

"We let the hostiles take them."

"You let them?" Parker didn't know whether to laugh or to cry on this. "No offense but…are you nuts?"

"I understand your reactions, but we have reasons for doing this. We use the codes as bait," Braddock explained.

"Bait?" Raf wondered out loud.

"Yes, to catch a fish. A very big fish. Remember I told you before, about the traitor who sold out Matt until he was flushed into the open with the codes and got himself killed?"

"Haven't you caught the traitor right after Sam was rescued three weeks ago?"

"We decided not to take action on him yet. We let him feel secure, unsuspected. We then entrusted him with the codes, the ones that my team have encrypted which only Sam can access. We want this man to lead us to his handler, the real man behind all this mess."

"You let it be known to all that Sam is the key to access the codes," was Ed's incredulous remark.

"We did it discreetly."

"So they would come for Sam and drag him into their midst."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, but I don't get it," said Raf. "How is that going to improve things?"

Parker had gone thoughtful before he remarked, "Sam is the Trojan horse."

"Exactly." Braddock agreed. "Sam will not let himself be tortured for nothing. He is there to gather intel. He is also there to deceive the hostiles and make them expose themselves without them even knowing it."

"A virus." Ed nodded as he finally got the whole picture. "Sam plants himself to be the cause of their own downfall."

The General looked directly at him. "You understand now."

"Yeah, I do. But that doesn't mean I like it."

With a sad smile, Sam's father said, "Then you can imagine how I feel, because I don't like it either. Not one bit. But it has to be done. If sacrificing my own son means saving the life of millions, then so be it."

Ed swallowed hard as he noticed the glimmer of pain in the elder man's eyes. He realized then that the General was terribly worried about his son, and was trying hard to hide it by putting up a brave front.

Reaching over, Ed squeezed the man's arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad that you still have concerns for Sam, even after the atrocious way he behaved yesterday."

"So all the strange moods, the short temper, that was just an act?"

"Yes, Jules. He wants everyone in his team, especially you, to stay out of harm's way. He doesn't want any of you to get caught in the crossfire."

"I knew it. I knew something was off." Jules narrowed her eyes. "Ooh, I'm gonna kill him."

They all broke into soft laughter, and it eased the dismal mood somewhat.

Parker then brought everyone back to business. "So, General, how much longer do we need to wait?"

"Like I said, we won't do a thing before Sam gives his signal. We cannot tip our hands until we find out the handler's true identity."

"How is Sam going to send us the signal?"

"We have our ways. And Sam will send me the signal. Me and my team will infiltrate the hostiles' compound to rescue him and take care of everything else."

"Now, wait a second—" Ed started to protest.

"Eddie," Parker said, "It's a military op. It's way out of our jurisdiction."

"Ah, hell," Ed cursed, slapping the table. He wouldn't give up though, and asked the General, "You're sure you know where Sam is?"

"They're holding him inside an old building close to Scarborough Bluffs Sailing Club. My team is already at location, preparing to enter at first sign," Braddock replied, and immediately winced. Too late he realized Ed's true intention.

"Scarborough. That's within our jurisdiction." Ed smirked. He turned to Parker. "We have a hostage situation here, Boss. It's a hot call."

The Sergeant grinned. "Indeed it is."

Braddock senior rolled his eyes and groaned out loud.

"Fine!" he said. "Your team and mine shall joint task force, Sergeant Parker. Just remember that this is my op, highly classified. Many lives are at stake. We can't afford to have this mission compromised before it even begins. Anything I say goes, agreed?"

Parker shared looks with each member of his team before he grudgingly nodded. "Agreed."

"Good. Let's get moving."

Hours had gone by. Sam was quickly losing his mind from listening to the deafening noise being forced-feed into his ears. His exposed eyeballs felt so dried and brittle he thought they were about to fall off any seconds. He was hurting, he was freezing, and he was completely drained. All in all, he had reached his ultimate breaking point.

He was close to screaming when the door finally opened and Ross walked in with his men. Behind them followed an older man. Sam jerked, for he recognized who that man was.

They yanked the headphone from around Sam's head. The earsplitting sound disappeared all so sudden that he reeled in his seat, trying to recover his equilibrium.

The older guy looked down at their bound captive. "Hello, Sammy."

Sam gulped, finding it hard to speak. "General Morrell. I didn't expect to see you here."

"You're surprised?" Morrell chuckled. "Well, don't be."

"You are the reason that Matt Walsh is dead. Truly dead."

"He was a soldier, Sammy. A collateral damage. Soldiers die every day."

"He was one of your men!" Sam shouted. "You were his direct C.O. and you're my Dad's best friend. How could you betray him like this?"

The General may be old, but he was still a strong man. The punch he threw at Sam's face had enough force to topple over the chair backwards. The men quickly pulled the chair upright while Sam sat there with blood pouring down his lips.

"Why…why are you doing this?" Sam asked in a broken voice. "What's in there for you?"

"I don't care to discuss this with you, Sammy," the General snapped back. "I heard you only wanted to talk to me. So talk. Give me the passcodes."

Sam scoffed. "If you think that I will give up the codes to you after all that you've done, you're mad!"

"We don't have time for this," said Morrell, shaking his head in exasperation. He turned to Ross. "You did everything to make him spill it?"

"We did. Look at him now, Sir. We've tortured him half to death but still he persevered. You have any other brilliant ideas, I'm willing to listen."

"Just like his old man," Morrell muttered, "Stubborn to the core of his being."

Looking around the room, the General's eyes fell onto the other chair. He told his men to break one of its thin legs. They immediately obeyed, and a short while later presented him with the broken length of wood.

Morrell let Sam see the ragged edges of the chair leg. "Unless you speak now, I'm going to jam this thing up your ass until it comes out of your throat. So what would it be? Are you going to give us the passcodes, or do you prefer to suffer a violent slow death? You choose, Braddock."

Sam knew real fear then. He realized that it was time he ended this charade. Pressing himself against the back of his chair, he beseechingly said, "General…please…"

"Open his legs wider," Morrell ordered.

Sam yelped when the men grabbed his thighs and spread them further apart. He was raised slightly from his seat, to give Morrell easy access to impale him with the wood.

"No, stop! Okay, I'll tell you. You don't have to do this. Please don't do this," Sam started to beg, tears of shame running down his face.

Morell smiled and told his men to let Sam go. "Good, Sammy. What are the passcodes?"

Ross had left and hurried back inside with the laptop. As Sam stuttered the twelve digits of the passcode numbers, Ross made the entry into the command box. Almost immediately, the screen came to life to feature the neat rows of the coordinates and activation codes.

With that knowledge in his grasp, General Morrell now had a deadly weapon that could annihilate an entire small country.

From inside a stationary van half a mile away, 'Brainy' Brian, the tech genius from General Braddock's secret squad, made the announcement, "It's affirmative. The signal is on. I repeat, the signal is on!"

Already clad in full assault gear, Braddock senior barked into his com link, "You heard him. That's our cue to move in. Go, go, go!"

With sharp precision moves, the joint task forces of the military and the SRUs left their concealed positions to raid the target building.

Zero hour.

General Morrell clapped his hands once, relishing his delight at seeing the codes splayed across the screen. He turned to Ross, "Our job is done here. Let's go. The jet is leaving within an hour."

"What about him?" asked Ross, nudging his chin towards Sam.

"He's not needed anymore. Kill him."

"With great pleasure."

Ross took out his gun and was about to raise it to Sam's head when Morrell exclaimed in anger, "What the fuck?"

Whirling around, Ross found the General stood glaring at the laptop. Across the screen, the numbers were quickly blinking out, one by one. The coordinates and the activation codes to the nuclear warhead were disappearing right before their eyes.

"It's gone," Morrell whispered soon afterwards, his head shaking in disbelief as he stared at the blank screen. "They are all gone."

Ross rounded on Sam and shouted, "What the hell did you do?"

Then, and only then, Sam allowed himself to smile. "Virus."

Pale and shaken, Morrell gaped in horror at Sam. "Son of a bitch. Operation Virus. This is Braddock's doing."

"What? He did this?"

"Him and his father. They are both on this. They have been setting up a trap the whole time. They tricked us!"

Ross blinked, starting to grow unnerved by Sam's continuous smile of triumph. "The passcodes he just gave us are a fake?"

"The passcodes are genuine, but they are not for the codes that we want. They are for the signal. His signal. His rescuers are heading for us right as we speak."

Ross began to panic. "What should we do, Sir? What's the plan now?"

Without bothering to answer, General Morrell turned on his heels and ran out of the room, leaving Ross and his men totally undecided on what to do next.

"Don't even bother following him, Ross. There'll be no escape for him and for you, all of you. You're gonna die."

Ross' eyes drew to a slit, "Not before I kill you first."

He then raised his gun and pressed its nose against Sam's temple.

TBC…

Why are you all still reading this? I told you not to read it. Oh, well. Looks like I must stop torturing Sam too much.

Next, the finale. Coming soon!