BOOTH
I don't know where I am.
I was brought here with a bag over my head and my head pounding furiously. I soon realize that my dog tags are missing as soon as I try to move.
The others must think I'm missing. Or dead. I'm not sure which is worse.
"Booth." A man says. They have removed the bag but the people in front of me swim before my eyes in a blurry haze. I can tell he's got an accent, Middle Eastern, but I don't know where he is from. If Bones was here, she would know. But she's not. She's in some island doing anthropology-stuff.
"Where are the others?" I ask as soon as the man is visible to me.
"Dead." he says simply. I can't tell his heritage now either. "And they think you are too."
The man is sharpening a knife as he speaks to me.
"And why aren't I?" I try to ignore my head pounding and all I can think about is what I did. Or what I didn't do.
The man just looks at me and I keep thinking about what I did say to Bones. She's my best friend and I love her, but the feeling isn't mutual. Despite that, I should have at least hugged her in that airport. And now I can't even do that. I might never get to hug her again.
"The reason you're here, Booth…" The man says again. "Is because you're the best. The others were not needed and were therefore, disposed of."
I just stare at the man. How can someone be so cruel and just slaughter men without a second thought? I know this is a war, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
"You are the best." The man continues as I look at him. "Hence, we need you"
It's useless to negotiate with a man like this, I've been taught. They won't listen to me, one single solider. They would need actual empirical evidence of what they want before there's even the slightest chance that he will let me go.
All I can do right now is pray that I get out of this alive.
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