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Chapter 8 - Activated

The light. How did they make that light? It was so bright, too bright. He could feel himself going blind just by staring at it. He tried moving his arms to block out the intense shine, but discovered his arms were bound in place. As he tried to look down at his body, he discovered his head was also bound in place. He let out a grunt as he thrashed his arms and head around. He then tried to move his legs, but to no avail. He let out a scream as both legs emitted a pain worse then anything he had ever felt before. He caught his breathe as the pain subsided only to yell as again when he slightly shifted his left leg. He slowly remembered everything, why he was here, why his legs hurt so much.

"What the hell is going on in here!? Hey!" He yelled towards the light. It didn't answer his yelling, it only continued to shine with unrelenting force, "Somebody help me! Please! Help me!" He jiggled his arms to make as much noise as possible.

He heard faint talking in the distance, he was much too tired to make any of it out. A group of footsteps grew louder as they all approached. The sound akin to nails being dragged down a chalkboard filled the room as the footsteps entered the room. With a slam, they shut the door and stood behind the shroud of blinding light. One of the figures grabbed the light and turned it to face the ceiling. His vision was damaged by the light and he couldn't make out a thing.

As his vision slowly came back to him, a dark skinned man stood before him wearing a jet black suit. He made the figure out more, his bald head and piercing brown eyes were made more apparent, he recognized the man, "A-Andrews?"

The man smiled and nodded, "Hey, Nack. How are you doing?"

Nack looked around the room, two other people were in the room, both in professional suits. One was a portly woman in a tight skirt, while the other was a tall man who's identity was concealed by thick, black sunglasses, "What is.. all of this?" He continued to look around the empty room, the paint chipped off the walls and the ceiling showed considerable damage. Besides the four of them and the table Nack was on, only a bucket and rake were in the room.

"You're in the United Federation, we have some questions for you," Andrews answered. He took a glance back to the woman who nodded slightly. Andrews pulled out a small photo and kept it by his side.

"Andrews!" Nack yelled, getting the man's attention, "What in the bloody hell are you doing!?"

Andrews looked at him with a confused face, trying to hide a slight smirk, "Come on, you're tied in place, the crappy room, ominous light, those two back there..." He motioned to the speechless man and woman in the back, standing erect like statues, "I thought it was obvious?" He got closer to Nack, "I'm interrogating you."

Nack felt his face heat up with fear and rage, "You were one of us Andrews! You were our friend!"

Andrews chuckled and shook his head, "Nack... Nack, my call sign was 'Driver.' You guys literally called me Driver. And I was a driver!"

"Just because we were unoriginal doesn't mean you weren't one us."

Andrews looked at him with disbelief, "I was the only one with a call sign, Nack!"

Nack looked downwards, "Yeah... Sorry about that."

Andrews chuckled once again, "Are you apologizing? Do you really think I care about that? Nack, I don't think you really know how much crap you got yourself into. With Destructix meddling around in Shamar, you gave the U.F. a damn good reason to redeploy."

"You gave us the contract!"

Andrews chuckled, "Any evidence?"

Nack thought about that, "Yeah, the dossier in the jeep!"

"You mean the jeep that was conveniently destroyed?"

Nack stared into Andrews eyes, "Piss off."

Andrews nodded and stared back, "Sure, now how about you answer some questions?"

"Piss off."

"You work for the private military company Destructix, correct?" Andrews took a careful look at Nack's facial movements.

Nack simply looked back, expressionless, "Piss off."

"You know if you just answer the damn questions, we probably won't kill you," Andrews was careful to set the tone of the interrogation, "Now, have you ever come in contact with a Miss... Fiona Fox?" Andrews showed Nack the picture he had been holding. A red fox in a tactical vest, wielding a rifle, posed in front of a armored personnel carrier.

"Piss..."

"Nack!"

"Off..."

Andrews backed away from Nack, "Fine, you prick!" Andrews cleared his throat and regained his composure, "I mean, very well, Nack... We will get our information," The portly woman motioned to the other man. He took off his jacket and threw it carelessly on the ground. He grabbed the bucket from the corner of the room and brought it over to Nack. He gently set it down and pushed the table Nack was on roughly down. The table inclined so Nack's legs were above his head.

"Hey! What are you...?" The man rolled up his sleeves and reached into the bucket, pulling out a rag that had been soaking, "What? No... No, no, no, no, no... Wait! I'll talk, I'll-" Nack's vision and plea were cut off by the rag covering his face. He mumbled and grunted under the rag. He violently shook his head to get it off.

"On," The man said before pouring water of Nack's covered face. Nack held his breathe and felt the cool liquid run down his face, forcing its way down his nose, the burning pain rose throughout his body. He couldn't hold his breathe any longer, he needed air. As the water was poured on him, he took a gasping, deep breathe and immediately tried coughing up the large amount of water from his mouth. He gagged and continued to cough in vain as more water entered his lungs, the pain was unbearable and he weakly tried shaking out of his restraints.

"Off," The man said as he lifted the rag and allowed the weasel to regain some of his breath. Nack deeply breathed in and out, sucking down as much precious air as possible.

"Well, it's only a matter of time now," The portly woman said to Andrews, breaking their silence.

"On," The man said as he threw a rag over Nack's face and poured water over him. Nack's gurgling and coughing soon followed.

"Yeah," Andrews answered simply as he watched the waterboarding.

"Oh, Andrews, we need to talk. I have some news," The woman opened the door and motioned for Andrews to step outside with her.

Andrews looked back at Nack's interrogation, "But this is my favorite part," He said with a smirk.

The woman rolled her eyes, "Now, Andrews."

With that command, Andrews stepped outside of the tiny shack. It was surrounded on all sides by dense forest. A fleet of black vans were parked around them, along with more people in suits.

"Your unit is being activated, Andrews," The woman said.

Andrews looked in shock, "My unit? The Legion knows I'm working with the Bureau, right?"

"Yes, but apparently your commander knows best. Your work with us is suspended for now. Do your work with the United Federation Foreign Legion, and you can come back with us," The woman explained, "He said to meet up at the 'usual place?' He said you'd know what that means."

"Yeah, yeah. The Legion always activates at the worst times."

The woman nodded, "Well, that's the price of citizenship."

"Maybe the United Federation should lower the price of citizenship so I wouldn't have to join."

"Maybe you shouldn't have been born in Mazuri."

Andrews looked at her, "How was I supposed to help that?"

The woman chuckled, "Just get out of here, Andrews."

"Dammit..." Reluctantly, Andrews shuffled over to his van, looking back at the rest of the agents. He slowly crept into the driver seat and pulled his seat belt over himself. He started the engine and backed away from the shack. He carefully drove through the forest and eventually reached a secluded highway. Making sure no one saw him, he sped off to his unit's usual rendezvous.