"Ostanovite, pozhaluĭsta prosto perestatʹ yemu bolʹno!" Ghost cringed at the throbbing in his head and the pitch of the woman's shouts. His mind was too cloudy at the moment to process the Russian language clearly, only making out the words 'please' and 'hurting'.

Something held him tight against a chair as he jerked forward some, the cold air on his blistered skin telling him his mask was off. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh met his nose and he felt sick.

There was a scream that filled his ears next, it was hoarse and tortured sounding, forcing Ghost to open his eyes. Only one of them complied, the other was too swollen. They were in a warehouse almost, cells lined the wall on the right and the shouts of Russian and a few other languages suggested they were filled with prisoners. The rest of the room was vast, only a few beds, desks, and medical equipment occupied the area in clumps. A few of the beds held what once could have been considered a human being on them, but were now just bones with skin stretched over the top. Some of them moved, others were still as death.

Ghost groaned when someone grabbed his jaw and jerked it up, something shined in his eyes bringing about white spots in his vision. His head throbbing that much more.

"Nice of you to join us Brit" the man sneered as Ghost jerked his jaw free of his grasp.

Looking up towards the man he recognized from the informants photo as Dietrich Schüttle he glared.

"Why are you here?"

"Go shove it up your arse." Schüttle nodded and he earned a solid fist to his stomach by a large pale haired Russian standing next to him.

The man sighed and turned around, Ghost looked past him suddenly noticing Exxon and Yankee strapped down on gurneys. Their clothes smoking slightly and raspy groans escaped the Linguists throat. From what he could see the Italian got the brute of the bomb.

Nazedha was handcuffed to a fixture in the wall past them. Her left cheek was split and bleeding some, and whatever gear she had on earlier was gone. Leaving her in black underwear and a worn white tanktop. In short, she looked pissed. Her eyes met his for a moment before she looked away anger and guilt on her face.

"You fucking traitor." Ghost growled as his eyes found the other informant standing loyally with the group of guards that surrounded them all.

The left half of Blaž's face was oozing a clear liquid,out of the charred skin on his cheek and jaw, to which he dabbed at with some antiseptic gel. He returned Ghosts glare, but said nothing back.

"Now Brit we can make this easy or we can make this hard, why are you here?"

"I'm sure he's already told you," Ghost jerked his head in Blaž's direction, ignoring the wave of dizziness it caused.

Schüttle sighed and waved someone behind Ghost over. Confused he craned his neck back trying to see who the prison guard was walking over. His heart stopped.

The sun-kissed skin, earned by training long hours during his time as a Marine in Afghanistan, was replaced by a sickly white color, his limbs had a slight purple tinge to them and he shook some as if cold. There was a limp in his gait, his body once strong and muscular with youth and hard training now resembled that of Jewish prisoner during Hitler's reign for the Reich that never was. Hell Simon could easily count his ribs. Easily.

Green eyes were now dull and almost lifeless, rimmed by dark circles giving him a raccoon effect that made the hollowed cheeks look that much worse. A thin silvery line ran across his right cheek and another scar was under the line, a crudely carved Russian word. Strong. The sweatpants that hung from pale hipbones were ragged and stained with blood, fresh blood.

Simon wanted to kill them all. But at the same time he just wanted Gary to look at him.

The same blonde Russian that had punched him in the stomach, held onto Gary's shoulder as he pushed him to stand a few feet in front of him. Gary looked scarred and paid no attention to his comrade in front of him. Just stared at the ground as if it were the most amazing thing he'd seen in a long time.

"Gary..." his voice was faint sounding and his heart thrummed like a hummingbird in his chest.

Gary didn't even respond to his name. And Schüttle grinned walking forward to stand in Ghosts line of sight.

"Let's try this again, why are you here?"

"G...Gary look at me please?"

Schüttle frowned "Wrong answer." He stepped back giving Ghost full view of the catatonic skeleton that was named Gary Sanderson and gave a sharp nod to Ivan.

Gary screamed as he was slammed down hard against the concrete floor his left arm was wrenched sharply up behind his back and Ivan slammed his weight forward. His screams turned hoarse and tortured as the cartilage and tendons in his shoulder gave way with slick pops and something that sounded like the crunching you get when you chew on ice.

"STOP STOP! STOP IT!" Simon screamed at Schüttle, he slammed against his chair and the cuffs sliced into his wrists and cut off the circulation to his hands. But he didn't feel it.

Schüttle waved his hand at Ivan, who had halted in his actions at Simon's protests, to continue.

Gary was sobbing, and when Ivan returned to his actions, he did so slowly. Sometimes letting Gary's arm go back some before jerking it forward again. His screaming turned hoarse and his choked sobs shook his body by the time his humerus had fractured. He was numb and lost in his pain by the time his shoulder broke along with part of his collar bone.

Ivan let go of his arm and it fell limply back down to his side swelling quickly. Gary just cried and tried his best to cradle his arm, but stopped when the slight movement brought back the worst of the pain.

Ghost didn't even feel the moisture on his cheeks he just shook with rage and frustration. He'd finally found Gary, alive at that, and was helpless to save him. So fucking helpless.

He caught sight of Nazedha trying to block out what was going on, her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks glistened with fresh tears. The guilt grew on her face when she caught his eye.

Schüttle spared her a glance before walking over to Gary.

"DONT FUCKING TOUCH HIM!" Ghost screamed at the German. Schüttle glared at him before stepping down on Gary's shoulder. Bringing back the ear splitting screams and making him sob even harder.

"I suggest you not tell me what to do Brit, for Gary's sake that is... Understood?" he lifted his boot off his shoulder the threat still in his eyes.

"Yes" Simon agreed quickly, sounding defeated.

"Good, now let's try this one more time. Why are you here?"

"To shut down the camp, you know that already."

"I do, but I want to hear you say it anyways," he agreed.

"I know exactly why you're here; I know that you're part of the 141, just as is Gary here; I know that you're a Lieutenant, your team Captain is John MacTavish... Oh yes I know most of it, thing is 'most of it' is just the first layer of the whole scheme of things, something you wouldn't understand and I will not tell you."

He fished for something in his lab coat and pulled out Ghost's radio, turning the volume dial up he listened.

"Ghost pick up... GHOST PICK THE DAMN RADIO UP!"

Schüttle answered the radio.

"We have your comrades, if you wish for them to stay alive I suggest you do as I say."

After a long pause MacTavish replied "I'm listening."

"Call off your attack, once you do I'll let you leave."

"Not without my men I won't."

"Ah your men, well, two of them are incapable of anything but breathing at the moment, another has be quiet lenient with information, and well Gary isn't yours anymore; the woman too."

"Fine."

Ghost knew John was feeding the German bullshit. He'd probably back off and plan a way to save them. Schüttle pocketed the radio once again, and walked over to where the burnt soldiers laid.

He leaned over examining Exxon first then Yankee, poking occasionally at charred skin earning a groan or two.

"Unchain the woman and let her treat these two."

Ohgren loomed over to Nazedha and unchained her manacles and pulled her to her feet. She glared at him and shouldered past, something he didn't like at all. Grabbing her shoulder and slamming her back against the wall he warned her. in Russian not to try anything before letting her go aid the burnt soldiers.

But Ghost only watched one person in the room, and that person was Gary.

"Gary...Gary... It's okay Gary I'm going to get you out...Gary please look at me" Ghost felt the back of his throat burn.

Gary just moaned, his sobs had turned hoarse and less intense.

"Stop calling me that."

Simon's heart sank. "Gary...thats your name, Gareth Gabriel Sanderson, you have a family in Murrieta, California. You know who I am dont you?"

"Go away,"he whispered, he was sitting now, cradling his arm that hung limp at his side in a awkward angle; head bowed in defeat the shaggy long brown locks were greasy and it would be a safe bet to say he had lice, he sniffled some and tears still leaked from the dull green eyes, that was the worst of it. His eyes. It killed Simon to see the life gone from them, Gary was always so full of life and optimism. Now, now Gary was a shadow, if that even.

"Did I permit you to speak 23?" Schüttle directed at Gary.

"He's not a bloody number!" Ghost growled out. The German didn't appreciate his out burst.

"Well I see you don't care for 23's well being. Ivan take 23 back to his cell and put the others with the other prisoners. Blaž come here."

Ghost glared at the "Loyalist" Nadezdha spit at him as he walked by, her hands peeling burnt clothes from burnt skin, earning pitiful moans from the charred men. Ivan grabbed Gary by the back of his neck to his feet, from there the Marine spared Ghost no glances as he was led away. Ignoring all of Simons plea's to stay. To just say something back.

He turned his attention back on the enemy when he hear the click of a hammer being pulled into place. Scüttle handed the pistol to the Serbian.

"Deal with her when she's done then come see me." he walked towards Ghost, taking out a syringe as he did so.

"What? You gonna knock me out?"he sneered as the German injected him.

"Not quite." The words sounded cloudy, and Simon's head spun and felt like it was going to explode at the se time, his limbs felt detached and numb. He could faintly feel his hands being freed along with his ankles. They tossed him in a cell with a few emancipated prisoners, if they wanted to they could jump him for his clothes, or, by the way the pale bearded old Russian was looking at him, pull a Hannibal Lector on him.

But it was the redheaded man and his brown haired shadow that came up to him.

"You tried to free us, why?" the red head addressed him.

Simons tongue felt thick in his mouth and he was positive he was drilling all over himself by now.

"..gu..wnf...".

"Looks like the German got to you, guess well have to wait for a more formal introduction, my name is Klien I was with the French Foreign Legion; this is Des, he's from the U.k. Special Forces... Welcome to hell."

Simon didn't really listen to what the man said, his mind could barely process the shock of seeing Gary again. His emotions were so twisted at the moment that he couldn't think straight, or that could be the drug...

Then the screaming started...

Simon knew it was Gary.

And when the gun shot rang out and echoed off the concrete acoustics of the building.

He knew it was the Loyalist.

Well here ya Go! and thank you all for being patient! Gary's POV will be back VERY SOON... and stay that way...just have to lay things out for the plot...lol thank you all who reviewed..it was halarious really! all of you called me evil :) MUAHAHAHAH i love it!