Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language. Thanks to all reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy this next update...

Scott lay on the floor of the hut, looking at the sunlight flickering across bare skin, filtering in through gaps in the palm leaf roof. He had been left alone since he and Virgil had been separated the previous day. Scott thought they were being separated as some sort of punishment, a ploy to weaken them.

Instead, Scott had heard the scuffle of footsteps outside of the hut and heard Belah's voice.

"I warned you what would happen…" It had been clearly directed towards Scott.

He'd heard the gun shot, his own scream muffling the triumphant whooping and yelling from Belah's men.

Now Scott felt totally alone.

For a while, he'd tried to convince himself it was all one of Belah's tricks, a sickening torture to break him.

That hope died as soon as Belah had thrown Virgil's tattered, bloody shirt at him. Scott felt his stomach turn as his fingers brushed across the still warm blood. Balling it up in his hands, he brought it to his face. He'd sobbed without shame, until his eyes were swollen and etched painfully with red lines. He'd ignored the taunting comments thrown in his direction, guards spitting on him as he lay lifelessly against the ground.

He hoped that maybe by the power of his own wish for death, he could follow Virgil.

After all, he couldn't ever go home now, not without him.

XXXXXXXX

Kyrano found Jeff, sitting as a solitary figure, a silhouette against the fading sunset. The secluded rock outcrop was one of Jeff's haunts, but only Kyrano knew this. Having given John a tea which he hoped would soothe his tired and overworked mind, he wanted to be his comforting powers to use on his employer. In a rare show of emotion, Jeff sighed deeply and wiped him hand over his eyes wearily, smudging the tears that had been falling since he'd witness the supposed execution of his son. He wasn't sure what to believe, it looked like Virgil, but in his heart he didn't want to believe his son was gone.

"I just want them back," Jeff said after a moment. "I'd give up anything…do anything, just to have them back." Kyrano said nothing as Jeff turned to face him. Four weeks of worry and the strain was beginning to show.

"I don't believe you have lost them," Kyrano said softly, handing Jeff the mug. He accepted it with a small smile.

"What makes you so sure? The video looked…" Jeff trailed off as his voice threatened to break. Kyrano sat on the smooth rock beside Jeff, but said nothing.

"Whatever you know Kyrano...whatever you think you might know, I need you to tell me," Jeff pleaded. Kyrano lowered his eyes momentarily.

"This rebel group...who are they Kyrano?" Jeff persisted.

"They are fronted by a man, Belah Gaat...he is..." Kyrano stopped momentarily. "He is not concerned about the Indonesian occupation. He lost no family during the fighting, he has no permanent ties to the area...he wants power, he wants to cause terror..."

Kyrano raised his eyes to meet Jeff's solemnly. Jeff saw a flicker of almost fear cross Kyrano's face, something he had never witnessed in all of the years of service.

"It is my own home village. There is a tale of a curse...men's minds and souls stolen by a demon. Gleaming eyes which enticed you with stories of how he could help you achieve whatever it is you wanted. He went after men with a desire for revenge, those who had tragically lost family members, or had trouble with village leaders...or those who suffered during the land struggles between Malaysia and Indonesia...battles were fierce, many lives lost...there were so many who wanted revenge. He had built up a small army by this time..." Jeff listened intently.

"Why not you Kyrano?"

"His power over me is different..."

"Why did this Belah Gaat take my sons Kyrano?" Jeff asked him, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.

"They are a means to an end Mr. Tracy. It is International Rescue he really wants, the technology, the equipment and their potential to cause world-wide terror..."

"How do you know this Kyrano...?"

"He is my half-brother."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alan stuck the empty beer bottle into the sand and leaned back, watching as the sky faded into a deep violet colour. Beside him, Tin Tin snuggled against his side, sighing softly as Alan's arm came around her, his lips resting against her forehead. She felt the warm moisture of his tears against her head and she turned to look at him.

Her hair hung softly around her eyes, watering as she watched Alan wipe his cheeks almost angrily. She placed her hand over his, stilling his movement.

"It is ok to be scared Alan," she whispered. He kept his eyes lowered, another tear dripping into the sand. Tin Tin cupped her hands around his face gently, easing his eyes up to meet hers. She gently placed her lips against his, feeling his lips moving against hers.

She pulled back, looking for Alan's approval. He stared at her before he placed his lips against hers, returning her kiss and pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her silky black hair.

An attempt to escape the worry and uncertainty, the young couple came together in the sand.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott assumed Belah had no more need for him, so was surprised by the arrival of two guards, flanking Belah on either side. He pointed wordlessly to Scott and they both moved forward, hands gripping at the tattered material of his uniform, seizing his arms with bruising force.

"Get your hands off me!" Scott yelled. "I'm not going anywhere. You hear me?" Belah held his hand up to the guards, who dropped him to the floor. Scott kept his moan of pain silent.

"Then your brother will suffer alone," Belah said, turning away from Scott, who had sat up, reaching to out to grab at Belah's trailing arm.

"Where's Virgil?" he asked him, his voice quiet in near disbelief.

"Where you left him…"

"No. No..." Scott shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping from his mouth. "You killed him…you shot him…his shirt, it was bloody and…" Scott trailed off and looked closely at Belah – the self-satisfied smile, the glow of malice flickering in his eyes.

"You didn't kill anyone…" Scott trailed off, realising he'd been played by Belah, he'd fallen into one of tricks and he'd reacted in exactly the way Belah had wanted him to.

"Oh I killed someone…just not Virgil." Scott wasted no time in scrambling to his feet, stumbling and staggering out of the hut, squinting against the sunlight as he emerged into the clearing.

He placed a hand up to shade his eyes, seeking out his brother and finding him, still in the prison, exactly where Belah had said he would be. He was missing his International Rescue shirt, the one Scott still held in his hand. The vest he'd worn below was blood-stained and revealed the horrific bruising that Belah had inflicted the previous day.

Worried it was a trick, Scott edged towards the motionless form cautiously, bile burning the back of his throat as he fought back sobs of worry that this was another of Belah's games.

He collapsed to the mud beside the body, easing it round so he could clearly see the face.

He let out a soft sob when he saw the peaceful features of his brother, a face he knew as well as his own. Trembling fingers felt for a pulse and were rewarded with the gentle throbbing showing Virgil was still very much alive. Scott looked over Virgil, checking his brother's body for signs of further injury and finding none. Scott wiped a tear from his cheek and he gently shook his brother, trying to rouse him from sleep.

"Virg…Virgil…" he persisted, shaking him roughly and letting out a soft moan as Virgil remained unconscious.

"What did you do to him?" he demanded, tearful eyes flaring angrily as he lifted his head to glower accusingly at Belah.

"He sleeps…although quite when he will wake is not known."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Manap watched the two prisoners in their caged prison. Immediately the dark haired one tended to the injuries the one he knew now as Virgil, had sustained. The dark haired man was openly crying as his hands softly touched Virgil's face and his hair, disbelief that he was still alive. He saw the caring gestures between the two men and knew them to be family. Manap had once watched his own brother beaten, battered by government forces fighting a tyrants war. He understood the horror and heartbreak the dark haired man would have suffered thinking his brother was dead. His mind had never seemed clearer than now, suddenly the years he had spent hiding in the jungle with the man they called 'master' or 'sir' turned his stomach. He was not a man of violence, he had no stomach for it. He watched the master ordering some of the other men, asking them to reload weapons, to collect food supplies.

"Fishing Manap." Manap nodded, gathering his spear and vines and calling to two of the youngest members of the group. As Manap lead the way into the forest, he took a different path, beginning the day long trek to the nearest village, to contact with the outside world and to help in ridding their home of this demon that had taken their souls from them and brainwashed them to become a band of violent mercenaries.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As he slept, Kyrano dreamt.

He could see Scott. Scott was crying.

Beside Scott…a body…thick brown hair and wearing the striking blue International blood covering the body, but as Scott turned it over, his face pale, confusion crossing his features. He had expected to see Virgil.

But it wasn't Virgil.

It looked like him, probably on grainy footage shot from a distance, you might believe it was him.

But it wasn't Virgil.

Instead, Virgil was locked in a deep sleep. Forced on him by Belah.

He was very much still alive.

Kyrano heard the sounds of morning in his dream, reality beginning to blue the dreamy visions he was experiencing.

"Wake up Virgil…" he whispered softly as his own eyes opened and he left the dreams of Scott and Virgil behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil woke to a reassuring touch against his temple and murmured words from his older brother that told him he was alive, at least. His head was cushioned against the bloody, tattered remains of his shirt and his brother smiled optimistically at him.

"You were always a heavy sleeper." Virgil managed a small smile, forcing his eyelids to remain open, taking in the glorious sight of Scott, alive and...almost well, by the looks of things.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked him before letting his eyes drift closed again.

"Not as bad as you," Scott answered honestly. He let his hand drop and Virgil opened his eyes again. Scott's smile was strained and Virgil slowly sat up, his eyes drawn to the bruising around his eye, the bloody lip, the finger marks around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked him, pushing himself into a sitting position, wincing at the strain on his battered body.

"I'll be fine," Scott assured him as Virgil sat back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Scott. Both watched the clouds beginning to build, deep black, grey and purple, with the promise of a heavy thunderstorm for the evening. Virgil saw Belah looking towards them, the same smug smirk on his face as though he achieved something over them. He'd made them weak, he'd made them beg, he'd made them hurt more than they ever thought possible. Virgil closed his eyes momentarily, trying to summon the strength and resilience that had got him through three weeks of this hell, but found his spirit lacking.

"Scott..." he whispered in a soft confession. "I'm sorry...I can't do this anymore..." He felt Scott shift beside him, coughing weakly as he sat up.

"Virgil..." he reached out, taking Virgil's chin between his thumb and forefinger and easing his head round to look at him. Scott's face echoed the same desperation and Virgil unexpectedly felt his eyes fill.

"Hey..." He pulled Virgil's head against his shoulder, chewing on his cheek to prevent his own sadness leaking out. He felt Virgil's ragged breaths, hot against his skin as he ran his fingers through matted curls, placing a gentle kiss against the side of his head.

"Sssshhh..." Scott soothed gently. "Virgil, I want you to know that no matter what happens..." Virgil shook his head against Scott's shoulder.

"No...no Scott don't do this now..." he whispered fiercely, lifting his head to look Scott in the eye. It wasn't in Scott's nature to speak fatal final words when there was still a glimmer, all be it very tiny, of hope.

"Remember what you said when this all started...you give up now, you might as well be dead..." Scott managed a small smile and a sigh half between a broken sob and a laugh.

"You're right Virgil..."

"So, what do we do?" Scott looked towards the dense thick forest surrounding them, trees swaying in the warm breeze. He turned to look at Virgil with a smile.

"We try to get out of here again."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ethan offered the large man before him a beer, which he accepted silently. He had stumbled into the village, finding Kiri's café and had introduced himself as Manap. Kiri had acted as a translator, the words of the tribesman chilling him.

"He comes from the demon's camp…he has escaped his hold…" Kiri began. Ethan sat down opposite the two men, listening as Kiri weaved stories of demons, a man possessed and the tortures inflicted on his two captives. Manap had lowered his head shamefully as he admitted being responsible for some of the tortures. As he spoke those words, he turned to Kiri, his eyes widening and his voice dropping, words spoken quickly.

"He says...it was not his actions," Kiri said. "He says he would not have known about these tortures or how to do them...he doesn't think he could have done them. He didn't have control over his actions..."

"Who the hell is this demon Kiri? Ask him?" Ethan asked. "This isn't the time for ghost stories! Jack's missing, the two International Rescue guys are missing and this man says he can control people's actions..."

"Their minds," Kiri corrected him. Ethan felt a real fear bubbling in his stomach. This man, Manap, spoke of experiencing the effects of this demon that Guntur and Kiri had spoken about. He and Jack had passed off the stories as superstition, tales passed down through generations which hid a more reasonable explanation for the disappearance of men from the village. He turned away, but Manap reached out, taking his wrist between strong fingers.

"I help Virgil..." he said in broken English. Confusion crossed Ethan's face.

"Who is Virgil?" he asked, but Manap seemed not to understand. Kiri repeated the question in Manap's dialect and he responded quickly.

"Manap says Virgil was one of the men taken from the village…one of the men wearing blue…"

"International Rescue?" he asked and Kiri nodded solemnly.

"They are alive?"

"Both of them…" Kiri replied. Ethan smiled his thanks to Manap before turning back to Kiri.

"Kiri, I need to use your telephone."