I sat in my prison, where I had been sat for a very long while. I looked at the door, willing it to open. I smiled slightly, a smile that hurt. I heard the guard who gave me my food approaching. I scrambled towards the door. "Hey..." I said, speaking for the first time in a very very long time. I heard the guard pause. I closed my eyes.
"I'm not allowed to talk to you." A youthful voice replied and I smiled to myself. This was good news.
"Come on... Please. Just... I need some water." I said, making my voice crack.
"You have water." He replied.
"I n-need more." I begged. There was a long pause.
"Fine. Give me your glass."
"I can't... Too weak." I said and collapsed. I heard him unlock the door rushingly. I scrambled over to the empty glass and picked it up, standing next to the door, just so I couldn't be seen. The door opened and I smiled slightly. The youthful guard, who looked barely older than me, stepped in.
"Wha-" He never finished his sentence before I shattered the glass over his head. The guard dropped like a stone and I stepped over him. I looked behind me and then back at the guard. He was awake, but barely.
"Thank you." I said to him. He looked confused. "Unfortunately, I have to knock you out... When you wake up, get as far away from here as you can." He blinked and I stepped on his face, rendering him unconscious. I knelt down next to the body and took the pistol from the holster. It felt heavy and cold in my hands, but holding it granted me a slight rush, a feeling that I was invincible. I hated it. That rush made me feel capable of killing... I hated that. I hated the thought I could kill. Soon, it would be more than a thought.

I left the room, my almost starved body making me quieter. I crept through hallways, seeing various guards and staff, talking. It seemed I wasn't the only prisoner. I saw other cells as I wandered the hallways. I was catching my breath, my stamina greatly reduced due to my starved adolescent body, when I heard footsteps approaching. I dived through a door and it turned out to be a restroom. I looked at the strange figure that was staring at me through the glass. I was stunned when I realised that the figure was me. My hair had grown long, greasy and strandy, while my face was dirtied and I had facial hair. I looked like I was ten years older than I was. I only broke my attention when I heard the door of the restroom open. I silently went to one of the cubicles and locked the door. I put my back against the door and held my breath. A mistake here would cost me my life. The man did his business and washed his hands, from what I heard. He then left. So far so good, but I knew this stealth wouldn't last.

I left the restroom, looking out into the abadoned corridor. I breathed a sigh of relief. That was a mistake. Before I could even turn, I was knocked off my feet. I flew through the air and landed hard on the ground. The gun I had been holding flew out of my hand and skittered along the ground. I turned and saw a behemoth of a man looming over me. "Oh bugger." I muttered. I rolled out of the way of a stamp that would have killed me. I groaned and was picked up. Then, he threw me again, this time I landed right next to the gun. I groaned in pain and cringed. I heard the footsteps approaching and instincts kicked in. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the gun, rolled onto my back and fired three times. Three shots, all of which connected. One in the stomach, two in the chest. The behemoth before me gurgled slightly and began to fall, like a great tree that had just fallen victim to a lumberjack. I rolled, just before the massive frame fell with a massive impact. I got up and groaned. So much for stealthy. I shook the dust from me and looked at the body on the floor. The realisation of what I'd just done staggered me. I'd actually killed a man. I felt a deep sense of guilt and sighed. I shook the feeling. I couldn't worry about that for now. I ran towards a room marked 'COMMAND CENTER'.

It was empty. That was the first bad sign. There was a laptop in the corner of the room, which I ran over to. It was already logged on; the second bad sign. I was about to go onto the email service, when I noticed the sheer amount of intel, maps and reports on the walls. I blinked and logged onto my emails. I began typing an email to Mark.


Mark,

I'm alive. No idea where I am. Trace this email. Gold mine in intelligence here. Hurry.

Josh


I barely had time to click send when I felt a gun resting against my temple. A familiar Russian purr rang in my ears "We meet again." Dunnington whispered. I sighed and turned, him backing away slightly, looking straight into my eyes.
"Whether you kill me or not, the British army will be coming in a matter of hours." I said, sounding more brave than I felt.
"Hours? That leaves me plenty of time." He said and smiled maliciously. I gulped slightly and backed away as he approached me. I reached for my gun and he reached for his own. Within a second, we were aiming straight at each other. One wrong move and we'd both die. Dunnington looked at me and smiled "Know how to use that?" He asked and I smirked despite myself.
"Well, I killed one of your men in the hallway." I said and his gaze narrowed.
"I wondered where Rodriguez went." He said. No regret marked his scarred face, in fact no emotion registered at all. "You killed him?" He asked.
"Yeah, I did." I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Ever killed anyone before him?" Dunnington asked. I could sense danger in these questions but ignored it.
"No..." I said, keeping my eyes and gun trained on him.
"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, a smirk playing on his face.
"It's very tempting." I said, truthfully.
"But you won't?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.
"I'm not sure yet." I lied. I didn't want him feeling safe.
"Put the gun down, Conlon." He said and I looked at him, remembering a question.
"How did you know my name?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"I know everything about you. Put the gun down. I won't kill you or harm you, you have my word." He said and lowered his own weapon. Against my better judgement, I did the same. I heard a footstep behind me and turned, seeing an assailant with a gun. I levelled my gun and let off a shot, though it missed. I lashed out with my foot and hit the attacker with my heel and he crumpled. I ran out of the door, Dunnington and other attackers pursuing.

I ran through any hallway I could find, the amount of pursuers increasing every minute. I was running through a dank hallway when I saw a window at the end of the hallway, the full height of the wall. I saw the desert outside and groaned. I made a quick calculation of the height and sprinted full force towards the window. About a foot before the window, I jumped and shielded my face with my arms. The glass shattered around me as I smashed through. I landed on the scorching sand and rolled, burning my hand and my bare feet. I staggered with the sheer force of the heat but didn't have long to recover as shots rang out from above me. I was sure I was going to die... Until I heard engines. I looked around and saw British army jeeps. I blinked and ducked as a small-scale battle began. I got over to one of the British jeeps and grabbed one of the soldiers. He turned to me. "Josh Conlon?" He shouted over the noise of engines, gunfire and battle shouts. I nodded.
"Yeah, that's me!" I shouted back.
"Go to jeep 3! Sgt. Williams will talk to you there!" He instructed me and I nodded, running over to a jeep with a white '3' on it. I saw a man sat against the side of the jeep facing away from battle.
"Sergeant Williams?" I shouted.
"You Conlon?" He shouted back, glancing at the chaos through the window.
"Yeah, I am!" I replied.
"There's a lot of people that are gonna be happy to see you!" He shouted and I could see a slight smile on him.
"Two questions: How long have I been gone and where the hell am I?"
"You've been gone five months and you're in Afghanistan, son." He shouted and I blinked. "Just stay here until the helicopter comes! Your handler's on there!" He shouted and I nodded, just as a bullet shattered the window above my head. A piece of glass fell and cut my shoulder through my shirt. I gasped and looked at my quickly reddening shirt shoulder. Sgt. Williams saw this and pointed to a man. "Over there! There's a medic over there! Name of Watson! He'll patch you up!" He shouted and I nodded, running over. Unfortunately for me, one of the Red Moon assailants got lucky. I felt a horrible, piercing pain close to my hip and fell onto the sand, my blood seeping out. One of the soldiers grabbed me and dragged me towards the medic who had been previously pointed out to me. I groaned and passed out.

I don't know when I woke up. All I know was that I was being dragged towards a helicopter. There was someone screaming orders. All I caught was 'GET OUT! RETREAT!'. The rest was incomprehensible. I looked at the passenger section of the helicopter, where I saw a face I thought I'd never see again. "Mark." I said, my voice genuinely weak.
"My God..." He said and I smiled slightly.
"I've seen worse..." I said brightly, though the pain was making my voice cracked. Mark looked at the pilot.
"Let's get out of here." He said. The pilot nodded and took off. The jeeps evacuated the site quickly. Too quickly. I looked at Mark.
"What's going o-" I began, before the helicopter was shook by a massive blast. I covered my eyes from the flash, as the building I had been kept in exploded. "What the hell?" I whispered. We began the journey home and I breathed hard. I looked at Mark. "I killed someone." He looked at me.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" He asked and I nodded.
"You're halfway to double-0 status." He said, smirking.


###Author's Note: Alright, I admit, I put a blatant Sherlock reference in. I didn't plan it but I saw a chance and I took it. So sue me (Don't actually sue me, I can't afford that.)###