I woke up with a start as ice-cold water splashed my face, my body jolting upwards with fright.

"Levante-se!"

I flinched, the yell reverberating and magnifying around the damp concrete walls.

Footsteps echoed around the room, as two rough calloused hands grabbed my upper arms. I yelped, struggling to get away as fingers dug into the gunshot wound in my shoulder.

Both pairs of hands lost their grip on my water soaked skin, as I bolted towards the door, astonished shouts behind me. I glimpsed a shot gun held high, in a club-like grip before it smashed into my head, sending me sprawled to the damp, mildew covered floor.

I heard the fait click of handcuffs as they restrained my arms, my head swimming, barely conscious.

"Que diabos você estava fazendo! Ele quase foi embora!"

I was dragged to my feet once more, this time by the handcuffs, cold hard steel cutting into my wrists. I blinked through the confusing sounds of arguing behind me, still dazed, trying to bring my world into focus. The hard metal barrel of a gun was shoved forcefully into my back as a hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head back.

"Avançar" hissed a voice in my ear, throwing me forward. I stumbled but regained my balance. Someone grabbed the handcuff chain and I found myself being dragged sideways through a maze of narrow corridors,

Faint wisps of bright light dashed across the walls here and there. Green slime oozed out of the walls, the occasional blood splatter decorating the cells with a dry cracked and crispy brown. The smell of blood, old death and stale rotten food made my stomach turn.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through my mouth, slowing my panicked gasps to a slow rhythmic exercise. Instead of the loud echoing jeers of guards and the occasional shriek of a prisoner, I focused on that calming rhythm. In… out. In… out.

Bright white light pierced my eyelids just before I was tossed to the ground again, landing on my face, my hands still cuffed behind me. With a groan, I rolled to my side, taking in my surroundings. Instead of the sticky walls and dust-covered concrete, there was polished white tiles and bright white walls. It looked as sterile as a plastic bubble, bright halogen lights shining of the glimmering marble counter tops and a shining steel sink.

A single gleaming steel bench was the in the middle of the room, large enough for a man to lie on. In each corner of the bench, dark brown leather bindings stuck out in loops, each held together by a metal buckle clasps. A small silver table with wheels was next to the bench, a fluffy white towel resting on the top, bulging slightly.

"Cinta-lo sobre a mesa" ordered a voice, as I was dragged over to the bench. Before it could even register, I was lifted into the air by two burly men, and dumped on the cold metal table. I kicked out forcefully with my legs, catching the man trying to tie down my legs in the nose. He gave a startled yell, staggering back, his hand covering his face, blood dribbling down his chin.

"Você não pode fazer nada direito?" shouted another voice, someone else running forward and seizing my legs. I yelled out in frustration, struggling against the leather restraints as they tied up my wrists and ankles.

"Deixe-nos!"

The militia turned and marched out the door without a word. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, the only sound was the faint creaking of leather as I tugged helplessly against my restraints, my shoulder throbbing dully and I pulled.

"That won't help you."

I froze. The voice was not the expected rough grunt of a man. Instead it was silky, nearly touchable whisper of a woman. My eyes darted around the sterile room, searching for the speaker. I heard gentle click of high heels behind me before a tiny smooth hand brushed against my cheek. My breath hitched and I instantly recoiled from the touch. A high melodious laugh filled the room.

"You are precious," she giggled, moving to stand to my left.

Crow black hair fell to her shoulders in gentle waves, her eyes a sparkling dark brown. A long lab coat covered most of her clothes, ending just below her knees. Petit feet were strapped into a pair of elegant black high heels.

She smiled pleasantly down at me, before moving to the small roller table, unfolding the fluffy towel to reveal a set of sparkling metal tools. A pool of icy terror settled in the pit of my stomach. They wanted information and they were prepared to torture me for it.

She picked up a scalpel experimentally, holding it up to one of the halogen lights. She noticed me watching her, my hazel eyes wide with fear, and smirked.

"Now. We can do this the easy way of the hard way," she announced, stalking back over to me, swaying her hips as she walked, scalpel in hand. "So. My name is Liana. What's yours?"

I glared at her, bawling my hands into fists, trying to convert my fear into anger.

Liana gave a dramatic sigh, before plunging the scalpel into my thigh. I screamed out, the pain immediate, flashing through me like fire. My mind was blank, the world a white haze of pain.

I tried to focus on my irregular breathing, instead of the scalpel, which was, buried hilt deep in my leg.

"Your name?" she repeated calmly, her voice pleasant. A strangled groan escaped my throat. She gazed at me, the way a cat would a bird. Amused, twisted.

"Fuck you," I growled.

She laughed again, a rich velvety sound, which rubbed against my skin.

"Do you practice the laugh or is it just a natural talent?" I asked irritated, sounding braver than I felt. Or was it just foolishness?

She moved away from me, swaying over to the sparkling white counters, which lined the walls. A vest and an assortment of weapons lay on it, dull matt black and familiar. It was our standard issue equipment. Mine.

She grabbed my knife, pulling it out of its black leather sheath. The blade was stained brown with dried blood from the favela chase. I remembered how I had plunged into the chest of the man who had tackled MacTavish. His brown eyes wide as he tried to make sense of what happened, falling backwards, landing on the dusty ground with a soft muffled thump.

I swallowed back bile, the grating cold metal of the scalpel causing the muscles in my leg to twitch horribly.

She picked up my bulletproof vest, examining the hole in the shoulder strap with interest before turning back to me, a smirk curled on her face.

"What are the 141?"

I stared back at her, trying to hide the panic, which clawed at my throat.

"Fuck. You. Whore," I snarled, tugging my hands against the leather straps.

She walked back over to me, her eyes cold and indifferent, the blood-splattered knife in hand. She raised the knife and brought it down, as I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth against the pain that was sure to follow.

Instead, I heard the sound of ripping cloth, my eyes snapping open to find her ripping my grey wet shirt to shreds with the knife. Her eyes gleaming with a sadistic form of amusement.

She climbed onto the bench and straddled my hips, careful not to disturb the scalpel. She lowered her face to mine, as if to kiss me. I quickly turned my face away, disgusted. I didn't want her to kiss me. She was a sick twisted monster.

"I don't want to scar that pretty face of yours," she whispered into my ear. I felt my heart beat speed up and stared at her in horror. She had an almost alluring smile, fingers tracing the bone white scars that trickled over my chest. Her fingers pressed against the cut in my side, slowly adding more pressure to the open wound until I cried out in pain.

She reached up and almost motherly, brushed away a stray lock of damp hair that fell across my eyes. The illusion abruptly ended as she brought my knife in front of my face, softly caressing my cheeks with the cold metal.

"Who are you?"

I shook my head. A flash of white iron slashed across my cheek. I gasped at the sharp pain. Hot crimson blood welled up and spilled over my face, cascading onto the shiny bench, thick and wet.

Liana repositioned the knife over the bridge of my nose; drawing it across my skin in an agonizingly slow deep cut, tearing into muscle, grating bone.

"GARY!" I cried out before the knife was abruptly pulled away.

"See that wasn't so bad," she crooned, her eyes alight with malice, whilst mine where starting to cloud with the blood that ran down my face, slowly coagulating. "Now. The 141. What is it?"

She could have my name. It was unimportant. But there was no way in hell I was selling out my team. They could torture me all they wanted but I was not betraying the 141, MacTavish and Ghost. Their face's flashed before my eyes, eyes wide with horror as they watched me fall. Ghost's scream of 'ROACH!' echoing through my mind. I would die for my team before I even thought about selling them out.

The distant shouts of Portuguese pulled me back into the present, memories replaced by a wave of sharp pain and terror.

The metal door into the room smashed open, Liana almost toppling off me with fright. Like a child being caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

A big burly man with cropped brown hair stormed into the room, furious.

"O que você está fazendo? Makarov quer que ele ileso!" shrieked the man.

"Eu estava a interrogá-lo Javier! Makarov não se importa se ele está quebrado" replied Liana, looking fearful. Swallowing audibly.

"Ele quer usá-lo você mulher estúpida! Agora saia antes de eu te matar você mesmo!" shouted the man. He looked murderous. His dark skinned face contorted in rage

The woman promptly climbed off me, wrenching the scalpel from my leg. I yelled with pain, wet blood spilling over the skin. The man moved towards the woman, furious. She yelped and ran from the room, dropping the blood smeared blade with a metallic clatter, before he was even within ten feet of her. His gaze followed her until she was fully out of hearing range.

Blood seeped through my black cargo pants, trickling down around my leg in little crimson rivulets, darkening the fabric with its magenta sheen.

"I am Javier," said the man, turning his cold blue eyes on me. He had a solid build, the kind that develops after years of hard work. I stayed silent, feeling my conscious ebb away with blood loss.

He moved over to me, his face contorted in disgust as he surveyed me. "I would kill you myself, but Makarov has requested we keep you alive for him."

I was swaying in and out of reality, blinking thickly though the pressing fatigue that washed over me.

"No," I murmured, barely able to keep the man in focus.

"Well that's not up to you now is it soldado?" he smirked at my protest.

"começá-lo pronto para o transporte" he ordered in Portuguese.

He gave me one last glance before turning and smashing through the door. He yelled an indistinct order as he left. A small weedy man tottered into the room, a white lab coat and surgical mask on.

I jerked away as he closed a gloved hand around my bicep, a syringe in hand. The liquid inside sloshed slightly with his movements before he brought it down to my arm. I struggled and tried to jerk away but the restraints left little room for maneuvering and fatigue left my movements weak , he injected the substance quickly like a skilled medic. My arm burned as the substance coursed through my veins, the world around me becoming no more than a blur.

I toppled over the edge of sleep, the bright halogen lights, the clink of metallic tools and sharp smell of anti-bacteria gel disappearing in a whirl of black.

Thank you so much for those who added me to your favorites and reviewed, but again A SPECIAL THANKS TO Dunedain789 WHO HELPED ME WITH MY HORRENDOUS WRITERS BLOCK! YOU'RE THE BEST BETA! Anyways I got readers now…..i look like a college student according to my dad…ugh I feel like a dork but oh well at least I can see way better….stupid how I can see fantastic far away but NOOOOO I cant see up close worth a damn….anyways you know the drill review please?i saw that approximately 50-up people read this story , and out of that I have four reviews and three favorites…..REALLY? gosh please review, I cannot by any other means understand what needs improving or what you guys as readers would like to see this fic turn into…..anyways yah that little fact just made my DAY!(insert sarcasm) anyways please like I said …..although I WISH I could READ MINDS…I CANT! I will try to post more….read and review!