A/N: Hi all, again.

Well, this chapter didn't quite go as well as I hoped or planned, but oh well. Work and life has been... hectic. And honestly, it is 1:18 am right now where I am, and I'm too tired to care. I apologize for any errors and a terrible chapter.

Though, the original idea of the story was to be about Gary & Simon after such a situation has occurred, so at least now it is close to being in the right setting for that part. Anyhoo, now that their imprisonment is almost at an end, I assure you - the story isn't even close to it.

So, even though I'm not quite happy with it, I hope some of you will it least like this. Thanks for reading!

Please do review and let me know what you think!


CPT. JOHN MACTAVISH

LOCATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: JANUARY 15th, 2015

TIME: 0012 HRS

Ukraine.

They were headed to the Ukraine which was where they were hoping to extract their two men and bring them home. This was it. The most important mission he had been on since… eughh, he didn't even want to go there. They had landed back at base to re-supply, and had gathered up any man and their dog that was trained to the required high standards to assist them, briefed them all in this all or nothing task, and they were off. The wheels were up within the hour.

Kharkiv - Eastern fucking Ukraine.

It wasn't even that fucking far from Russia, granted it was a whole 'nother country, but it was still fairly obvious. They should have been searching the areas near the bastards homeland, they possibly could've found them by now. But he couldn't focus on that right now, he needed to be ready and at his best; alert. In fact, they all did.

They had no idea how many people would be there, but he would bet his bottom dollar that there would be a lot. He also knew that it was likely that they would be being held right in the center of all the commotion, making their job even bloody harder.

Well, that's if they're anything smart - lord knows in this situation, someone comes eventually. You can't afford to be unprepared. Suddenly he found himself questioning the out come of this desperate operation. Are they expecting us?

"10 minutes 'till the drop zone." The pilot called.

"understood!" he called back loud and clear.

10 minutes.

10 fucking minutes. Fuck I hope we win.

SGT. Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Location: UNKNOWN

Date: UNKNOWN

Status: [MIA/POW]

He woke up to something warm, which was an unusual change to the cold he was so use to lately that numbed his broken and battered body. It wasn't that he didn't like the warmth - it felt comforting and made him feel human again, kind of, but it meant he had nothing to numb the excruciating pain that just wouldn't leave him alone any more. Even opening his eyes was becoming a struggle he was so swollen and sore, albeit that could be the awful burns destroying his nerves and ability to move. They were still stinging, constantly scalding his skin.

Fighting the pain and resistance, he managed to slit one eye open ajar, enough to see what was so warm around him. Oh, Ghost - Simon. Right.

They were both leant up against the wall in the position he assumed he must have fallen asleep in. Apparently the older man hadn't left him at all, which he was secretly grateful for. Though, there wasn't really anywhere else much he could move to. Still, the kind and supportive gesture wasn't lost on him. Then the memories of his last conversation with the man arose in his mind, he still felt awful about what he did; what he said. A little embarrassed too if he were being honest.

He didn't know or understand why he panicked so much, he was a highly trained soldier, a 26 year old man - he should not have lost his senses like that, it was stupid and childish.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! You're a fucking twat Gary.

Simon should not have been subjected to seeing him make such a fool of himself. Granted, the man hadn't seemed too bothered bearing witness to the episode, but that did little to remedy the guilt and anguish he felt about it. He felt he should apologise again, in his opinion there really was no excuse for that. He didn't understand why he cared so much about it, the man had already told him it was okay, but that didn't matter, his mind wouldn't listen to reason any more. What mattered now was mitigating the problem; making it up to the Lieutenant.

He turned to face Simon again, barely able to, but somehow he managed. He was startled when he found himself being gazed at rather than the visage of a sleeping man that had been there just minutes previously. The gaze looked something between amused, confused and worried. Though to him, only the latter seemed valid feelings.

"What?"

he asked, curiously. Forgetting his previous mission to alleviate the remorse he felt.

"I could say the same to you, you've been mumbling for a while. Made out the word "stupid" a few times. Care to enlighten me into the land of the Roaches?"

Fuck.

"M'sorry about earlier, it was pathetic and weak and you shouldn't have seen that." He didn't feel that his apology did his sincerity or the other man justice, but it was a start. Though the other man just scoffed. Probably disgusted at me. Who wouldn't be?

"You really are a fucking idiot, aren't ya mate?"

What? I don't need telling twice to believe it, but what? That wasn't an anticipated response.

Giving Simon a look that displayed both confused and disappointed in question, the other man continued.

"You don't need to bloody apologise mate. I meant it when I said it was alright. Well, not alright, but expected and not something im going to judge or admonish you for. Hell, if we got out of this and you hadn't made any indication that you weren't mentally sound I'd put you in a mental institute for sure, myself. Take it from me, you don't go through that and just be ok. Mentally and physically. It's gonna take some time to get over it - if you ever truly will."

He thought about that for a minute.

What he said made sense, and he seemed genuine about not caring about the weakness he saw. But still, crying about it now isn't going to make any difference - and he's not crying about it like a wuss. He just couldn't accept that his actions were okay.

"But I-" he was cut off.

"You need to look at this from someone else's perspective kid. Say someone else - someone you care about had been tortured for a long period of time, then he was found and brought back. Knowing what he went through, lets say he had a break down - like really lost his shit. Started panicking, getting upset - maybe even getting violent. Would you think, as a knowledgeable soldier about PTSD and torture techniques, that this man was a wuss? That not being Ok was weak? Would you even expect him to be "Ok" after it all?"

He thought long and hard about that one for a minute before coming to the conclusion. Of course he wouldn't think that, especially not about someone he cared about.

"No, I wouldn't." Maybe Simon had a point.

"So why would I be mad at, or judging you, Gary?"

He couldn't answer that one. He just wasn't used to this, he wasn't used to talking about or showing emotions and it made him uncomfortable. Suddenly he became very fearful about if they did get out of there.

What would it be like? What would he be like? Would he be able to deal with it all? Simon was right - he would need help, professional help. But would he have to ask for it? He knew deep down he probably wasn't capable of doing that. He didn't want to do that, he would rather die. He was actually beginning to wish that these guys would end his life already - he wanted to be dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain; psychological and physiological any more. He was almost willing to pull the trigger himself.

Wait, what? What the fucking hell Gary? Why the fuck would you think about wishing you were dead? Holy shit, I am fucked up. Holy fucking shit.

Not only was there an enemy through the door and down the hall, taunting him every chance they could get; there was an enemy inside his head. Only this one, no one else could fight. He was alone, and that scared the shit out of him.

"I'm not going to let you deal with it alone Gary." Simon interrupted his thoughts. Wait, how did?.. oh god! I must've been fucking mumbling again. Shit!

"How long have I been doing that?"

"What, talking to yourself?" …No, what else? He thought sarcastically, rolling his eye as best he could.

"Yeah." He dead-panned.

"Hmm. 'Bout a week or two, since you haven't really been fully coherent."

"What have you heard?" It was more a question, but part of it was clearly a threat that he'd hurt the other man if he didn't tell him. Not that he could or would physically, he could barely move. He'd just have to give him the silent treatment if he didn't. Fuck, cant do that either, I mumbl- fuck! Im doing it again. Bollocks.

"You must've been around me too much mate, you've been using that word an awful lot. But, ignoring my digressing, you told me how in love with me you secretly are, and how you want to get married and run off into the sunset and all that bull-shite." The man winked.

He gasped, he did not say that! He could tell by the almost not there glint in the man's eyes he was sure no one else would ever notice, that he was only fucking around with him - which he would dare say, he found relieving. I'd rather be dead if I said that aloud to anybody.

"I did fucking not."

"Nah, heh, just fucking around with ya mate. Don't worry. But you did say you were glad you weren't alone and that I was here. Cant say, given your position, that your view is bad or that I disagree though."

In a futile attempt to distract himself from the pain, he decided to tease the other man back.

"Now I understand why you're always flirting with me, Simon." he snickered.

The other man looked perplexed for a moment before he understood the full implications of his joke. Gary swear he paled, probably at the thought of him.

"Hey! I do not-"

Ghost's argument was interrupted by the door opening, a common occurrence these days. He swore that if they ever got out of there, that door would haunt him for life - worse than everything else. He was sure that every time he heard a door opening he would shit himself. If he didn't like his privacy so much he'd probably end up removing the door to his quarters. Also, he shared so he probably wouldn't be allowed to any way. That's assuming we ever get out…

"Evening, Gentlemen. It is 12:12 Am and boy, have we got something special and exiting for you today!"

Here we go again.

That was the last thought that went through his head before he felt the familiar, painful tug of them starting to drag him as harshly as possible out the door and into another room.

CPT. JOHN MACTAVISH

LOCATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: JANUARY 15th, 2015

TIME: 0022 HRS

They had reached the drop off zone, and they were all ready to go and parachute in. He was to go first, then in their already arranged order, everyone else would follow suite. There was no time to debrief when they landed, they had to get straight in there and catch them by surprise, so he had made sure everyone was clear on what to do in the Chopper.

Stay undetected as long as possible whilst moving as fast as possible to the RP, then they were to infiltrate the building, clearing as much as possible whilst finding their boys so they could evacuate them as easy as possible.

Though the mission brief wasn't the most comprehensive and detailed, everyone knew what they had to do to a tee; they could hear and see the the underlying message that was hidden behind the lines.

Get Roach and Ghost the fuck out of there by all means necessary.

He didn't care what had to be done, he just needed his men out of there and back on their side of the lines.

MacTavish was suddenly very glad they had brought as much man power as physically possible, he knew they were definitely going to need it. Before he could let any more negative thoughts feed his mind, he started doing one last check over all his equipment and 'chute. Everything was good and ready to go. Now it was him who had to be.

He turned to the team, nodding to them all.

"See you on the far side!"

He turned around to the open door of the Pave Low and jumped, praying the whole time that this would work. The relief he felt when the parachute flawlessly deployed without a hitch was indescribable. Its go time!

SGT. Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Location: KHARKIV, UKRAINE

Date: JANUARY 15th, 2015

Time: 0025 HRS

Status: [POW]

They were in a new room today, but it wasn't like any of their previous rooms. It was normal - completely and utterly fucking normal. There was no filthy bath tub, no shower, no metal table to tie him to and no fire place. Just a fucking office desk with a few chairs, a table and other ordinary office supplies like paper, pens, rulers, staplers, a computer, a kettle and mugs. Nothing like what he was used to lately. Not the most ominous thing.

But to Gary, it scared the shit out of him. More than anything else he had experienced yet ever had. It meant that whatever these bastards had planned could be anything, there was no clue, nothing. Hell, the anticipation was probably part of it to make the torture and pain worse.

He was sitting in a fucking comfortable chair - well slouching from the pain, albeit tied to it, whilst facing Ivan, Ghost right by his side. The man was simply just sitting there in front of him, sipping his tea like he didn't have a fucking care in the world.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door they had entered from.

"I wonder who that could be…" Ivan stated, Gary could hear the sarcasm dripping from the man's voice like water dripping from an ice cube kept out on a warm surface. The man knew exactly who the fuck it was behind the door.

The Russian stood up to open the door and let whoever it was in. Gary suddenly hoped that whoever was behind that door wasn't with anyone he knew. He vaguely wondered whether the slow, psychological torture was more effective than the bodily harm. Probably, I fucking hate not knowing.

Giving a brief glance to Simon beside him, Gary could tell he was just as puzzled as he was. Great.

He was suddenly glad the man was here with him, the man made him feel better, though he didn't know why. It only just dawned on him how much he had grown to care for his lieutenant though. He probably wouldn't even still be alive if it wasn't for the man, and for that he was eternally grateful. Well, in this present moment any way.

There had been some fucking dark moments over the past few weeks where he had spent hours not talking, having a mental battle with his brain about his self and life worth. There had been times, he was ashamed to admit, that he had cursed the man for allowing him to continue to live. Hell, he was sure in moments of hysteria and nebulous that he had even said it out loud without any control or thought. The man hadn't said anything about it though, nor had he stopped caring for him. Whatever reverence he had for the man before this calamity, it had increased tenfold by now.

He wished he could tell the man how grateful he was for his support, but he couldn't. He wasn't good with emotions, nor was he comfortable discussing this. Not to mention the fact that they were in the presence of these Russian wankers. He could only say what he could convey with his eyes. Simon seemed to understand somewhat though, the other man nodded and gave a brief smile before turning back to watch what Ivan was up to.

By now the door had been opened and it revealed a few on the Russian men dragging along some poor sod whose head was covered with a filthy cloth blindfold.

What the hell are they up to?

"Thank you, you may go."

"Yes sir."

With that, they other men left, leaving Gary and Simon with Ivan and the unknown man who was now being restrained by Ivan himself against the wall.

"You see him Gary? I am going to kill this man. Do you know why?"

"Because you enjoy participating in sordid activities?" He managed to spit out in detest through the still lingering pain.

"I wouldn't call it "sordid", per se Gary - merely unusual. But no, it is because I have asked him several times about something very important to me, but he will not tell me what I need to know. I find that very rude, so now he is going to pay the price."

"Who is he?"

Ghost asked next to him, he could hear the dread in his voice, knowing the man wasn't even sure he wanted to know.

"That is… not important, Simon. All you need to know is that because he didn't give me what I wanted, he is going to die."

"Bet you had a lot of friends as a child." he muttered quietly, not sure if any one could hear it. Simon snickered next to him however, so he assumed they both did.

"Would you like to see how a man screams when has his eye removed whilst still alive, Gary?"

What the fuck! The sick fucking arse-hole, he hoped to god he was fucking bluffing.

"You bastard…"

"The action would be… sordid, no?"

With that the man just smiled before turning and removing the blindfold from the other man who appeared to be somewhere in his early thirties. Gary didn't know him, not that that was much consolation for what was about to happen, but he wasn't sure if Ghost did. They were a similar age. He looked at his friend, though he couldn't find any recognition in the man's eyes. Apparently the man was a complete stranger, being made just an example to them.

"Please do try to keep quiet now."

The man's eyes widened in fear as he struggled to get away. It was useless, Gary mused sadly. Ivan grabbed a scalpel from the table his pocket and lunged it at one of the man's eyes, successfully penetrating the object into the socket. He moved the object around in there, trying to create leverage to remove the eye ball. After some effort there was a horrible popping sound as Ivan managed to remove the eye. The poor man screamed the whole time in pain, it wasn't just any scream - it was a blood curling scream that could only be released from indescribable pain and fear.

That must fucking hurt! Holy fucking shit!

Gary couldn't bear to watch, he couldn't bear to hear it either, but he felt the man deserved more respect than for him to turn away and not pay it any attention. It was the worst thing ever, watching someone go through such pain.

Removing a fucking eye? The bastard is fucking sick! More than sick! Oh god.

"This is what happens when you do not tell me what I want to know."

With that Ivan seemed to lose patience, because he grabbed a very sharp combat knife and slit the screaming man's throat,v ending the man's life in such a dastardly and cruel way. He did it as if killing a man so mercilessly was nothing to him, hell it probably wasn't. But now, Gary doubted his life would last much longer. His fears were soon supported.

"You see Gary, there's only so much time before one starts to give up. You have almost died on several occasions, and yet you still haven't told us a thing. This leaves me with no choice."

The man grabbed out a timer from a draw in the table and set it.

"You see this timer? It is set for ten minutes from now. If, between now and then, you do not tell me what I wish to know I will kill you. With each passing few minutes I will inflict an unbearable pain on you. Now, I don't want to do this to you, I was quite enjoying our little game. It seems as though we have a little problem now, doesn't it? The question now is, are you going to tell me, or are you going to die?"

"Fuck you!"

He wouldn't, fucking hell! Im going to fucking die!

Fear wouldn't even begin to describe how he felt, he had a feeling the Russian wasn't bluffing. Honestly, it wasn't so much the death any more, more the suffering before he got there.

There was a clicking sound and Gary looked up to see that Ivan had started the countdown on the device. Shit.

"I wonder what's going through your mind, with knowing you only have 10 minutes to live and all…"

"Go to hell!"

"I bet it's something about how much you hate me, or that im bluffing. I can assure you - I am not."

Gary just looked at him in disgust as the man reached for the scalpel again. He didn't know why Ivan did that exactly, but he wasn't surprised when the man lunged at him and cut just above his left eye, in an attempt to torment the younger man about what he had just done. He did, however, hiss out in the pain it brought him. Though he had long since stopped crying out from such a non portentous act of inflicting pain. By that he meant by the lack of almost man slaughter, yet at least.

The man just laughed at him before dropping the scalpel and walking over to the kettle, flicking the switch to make it boil. oh how he was fucking sick of that laugh.

"Do you know how long it approximately takes for your common kettle to boil, Gary?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Around two minutes, give or take. In two minutes, when the timer reaches 7.03, I could pour this down your throat. It would probably burn everything in its path, melt the flesh right off too."

"Don't you dare, you fucking piece of shit!" Simon yelled at the man angrily from beside him. Oh he would dare alright, he could see it in his eyes. His evil, gleaming eyes.

Gary just kept quiet, it was really starting to kick in that he was going to die - and in the worst way possible too; slowly in front of someone you love.

Wait, what? Love? What the fuck do I mean love? Fucking hell, I just meant in a brotherly way, right? Yeah, I bloody did, shut up Gary you git. That's fucking… inappropriate!

He focused back on Ivan.

"I'm not going to do that to you just yet Gary. You wouldn't be able to talk, and since that would defeat the purpose of this little exercise, I think I'll save that option for later."

"How fucking kind…"

"Instead, I think ill rip all of your nails, one by one. If that doesn't work, I'll rip off your toes…"

Oh god.

CPT. JOHN MACTAVISH

LOCATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: JANUARY 15th, 2015

TIME: 0027 HRS

"Sir, 15 tangos approaching from your left! I'll help thin them out!"

Archers voice broke through the comms. There was a lot of resistance here, but they were going to kill every fucking bastard who got in their way. They were determined to finish the job now. They were so close. So fucking close!

He took cover behind the entrance of the shed, taking out as many as he could before having to reload. He took aim again and smoked the remaining two targets before telling his team to move up. Just 100 more feet or so and they would be entering the building - and that was their real challenge.

They moved as quickly as possible, but the enemy just seemed to be multiplying. He repeated his previous actions; taking cover, shooting, reloading, shooting, moving up, taking cover, shooting, reloading, for what seemed like hours, but was just minutes. The mantra was stuck in his head, like a recipe to fuel him with anger and determination.

Taking out the last few stragglers, they finally made it to one of the entrances. They stacked up, positioning themselves ready to breach the door and room.

"One, two, three!"

SGT. Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Location: KHARKIV, UKRAINE

Date: JANUARY 15th, 2015

Time: 0032 HRS

Status: [POW]

He was in a world of agony now. You'd be surprised how much the removal of nails purposely and slowly could fucking hurt. The man had also thought it fun to fucking break his already very weak and sore leg. The man had literally stepped his full weight on it and fucking broke it, just like that. Like the snap of a finger or a small twig. The cracking sound wasn't something he thought he ever forget if he ever made it out of this alive.

Oh god, it hurt so bad, he just wanted to scream - to yell every profanity he could think of until he could scream any more. He felt anger and hatred rising in him for these people and he sincerely hoped that they would have a fucking slow and painful death like his would be. Then he hoped that they would rot in hell; then be reincarnated and die and rot in hell once more.

"3 minutes remaining, Gary. We can end this now, or it can only become worse. The choice is yours, remember."

He just screamed at the Russian, nothing particularly intelligible or coherent, but at least it made him feel a bit better. Mentally, not physically. Nothing could make that pain any better except fucking morphine and sleep.

Ill be getting plenty of fucking sleep when im dead!

"That wasn't very smart Gary."

I don't fucking give a shit!

But he couldn't say that, the only noise he could make was to groan.

"Well, the kettles long boiled by now, probably even cooled down a little."

"No!" he shouted in vain, it was really useless. There was nothing he could do; he was fucked. He could see in the corner of his eye Simon trying to get lose, struggling to do anything to stop him from dying. It was useless, and part of him wished he would stop.

Why the hell would I think that? I cant fucking give up…

Ivan glanced at the clock, seemingly pondering something before speaking.

"1 minute 13 seconds remaining. You've got 13 seconds to tell me Gary, before I pour this boiling water down your throat." He would rather die than tell this bastard anything.

"Eat shit!"

Ivan sighed. "You leave me no choice."

He picked up the kettle and poured the steaming liquid into a mug, filling it to the brim. Putting the kettle back in its place, the Russian walked over to him, cup in hand. "Open wide Gary."

He clamped his jaw shut as tight as physically possible to prevent the boiling water from entering, but it was no use - the other man was much stronger than he was in his weakened state. The man easily pried his mouth open, and within seconds, he felt his mouth being scalded. Then his throat.

It hurt so much, more than anything else he decided. This really was fucking torture - there was no physical way to bare or deal with this level of pain. So he screamed, only the screaming made the blistering pain in his mouth and throat 10 times worse, so he screamed from that pain too and this just kept going and going until he was a panting crying mess. He just wanted the absolute agony to end.

CPT. JOHN MACTAVISH

LOCATION: CLASSIFIED

DATE: JANUARY 15th, 2015

TIME: 0033 HRS

He stabbed an enemy right in the throat after they lunged at him whilst he was turning a corner into the room, instantly killing the bastard. He deserved it! By his calculations they were almost in the centre of the building, and there had been no sign of the two men yet, they had to be close now.

Quickly taking cover again, he shot everyone in front of him, the anger really fuelling him now. Beside him was most of the team and they all had seemed to be thinking the same thing as him. He quickly shot someone who was trying to double back around to sneak up behind them before turning his attention back to the mass of Russians in the room.

It didn't take them long to clear it out, he had a large team beside him and the other half of the group helped from the other side of the room from when they split up to search faster. They then all joined in the middle, standing outside the last room to be checked in anticipation. They had to be in there.

"Only one room left, lets go!" He called, he hoped they weren't too late.

He grabbed the handle of the door, gun at the ready, and pushed it open, revealing an office looking room…

SGT. Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Location: KHARKIV, UKRAINE

Date: JANUARY 15th, 2015

Time: 0033 HRS

Status: [POW]

"Now I don't think you are in any condition to give me any answers, would you agree Gary?"

Fuck this arse-hole!

He just groaned, unable to produce a verbal response. He was sure everything the water had touched was blistered and… cooked. Literally, Gary was sure his insides were actually cooked it was that hot and painful.

"I'll take that as agreement. But, I did promise you that you would have 10 minutes left to live, so for the remaining… 23 seconds - Simon, I will give you the opportunity to answer my question."

"Go to hell!"

"I believe young Gary will be going there soon, and I am sure he will not want my company there."

He could feel the man's arrogant smirk from his comment, he didn't even have to look at him to know about it. He could also feel Simon's anger radiating off of him and he felt bad. He didn't want his lieutenant to have to witness him dying; it wasn't fair.

"Im goin' to fucking kill you, you bastard!"

"All things I have already heard from you, Mr. Riley. 11 seconds…"

"Arghh! Fuck! Gary I'm so sorry!"

"7 seconds…" He pulled out a Beretta and loaded it with ammo.

Gary wanted to reply to Simon's apology, to tell him it was ok and that it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't. the words wouldn't come out because he physically couldn't talk. He hoped that the man could recover from this.

Instead, he was faced with the front of a gun.

"4, 3…"

He somewhere thought heard the sound of a door being burst open, but his ears and head were pounding from the blood, pain and fear. He really wasn't paying any attention to anything but that damn gun, and to be honest - right now he didn't care.

"2, 1."

Bang!


A/N: AND THERE! Sorry about leaving it on a cliffhanger, thought it was a more dramatic way to end the chapter...