In a stroke of sheer luck or absolute genius or both, Auggie had managed to track the GPS on the car that was transporting Annie and Fira. It was a tiny blip on a map of an open jungle with little to no buildings or identifying markers. The dot flickered and went black every once in awhile, no doubt due to the shitty service that could only be found in the dense lands of the middle of nowhere Indonesia.

"What the fuck, Auggie?" Cami sighed in exasperation. "Why is that fucking dot leaving the screen?"

"Calm down, Cam," Auggie shot back. "We have the coordinates and if the fucking GPS dot moves, we can still track it."

Their brief jaunt into a happier atmosphere had dissipated rather quickly when they all realized that Annie and Fira weren't being held in an easy place to access.

"You got Annie out of an unbreakable Russian prison," Flip had retorted when Auggie expressed his unease at an egress for the two women. Car keys already in hand, Flip had been ready to go in guns blazing. It hadn't taken much convincing for Flip to realize that the Russian prison in the middle of a city would be infinitely easier to infiltrate undetected than a dot in the middle of a jungle.

Blake took a long pull from his water bottle before tossing it aside. "We go in quietly and on foot. Spread out. We don't need an army for this, but we all have enough experience to hopefully not get blown up by boobytraps around the place."

Flip knew it was a logical plan. He didn't particularly like waiting, but he could do patient. They had a plan, but he would feel better once it was in motion.

Auggie nodded contemplatively. "Take what weapons you can carry. We won't have backup that can come save you. We'll drive there now. Break into the prison tonight. We have 13 hours until darkness. That's when we infiltrate."


Sapphira's ears perked up at the sound of the gunshot. Bakker spared a bored glance in the direction of the shot, but then turned her attention back to Sapphira.

"Anything I should be worried about there, Marieke?" Sapphira drawled. "Oh, I don't know, considering how my friend just got dragged out of this little prison cell and down a corridor that just a gun just went off in?"

Sapphira tried to play it cool instead of reaching through the bars to strangle Bakker, who simply looked down the hall again and shot a glare this time.

"Nope."

"So, since you have such a connection with me, how about you let me out of here?" Sapphira requested primly. It would never work, and that was obvious by the bark of laughter from Bakker leaning against the bars of the cell, but it was worth a shot.

"You know that's not my call," Bakker said with a slight smile. "We don't even really want you, though. We just want the blonde girl. Tell me her real name."

Sapphira raised an eyebrow without saying a word. They might have had this whole thing wrong. They all figured that Henry Wilcox had put a bounty out on Annie's head, but what if he hadn't used her real name? It wasn't uncommon for certain assassinations to not include anything but a photo. Everything would be simpler if Annie's name hadn't been involved.

"Let me out of this shit house and I just might," Sapphira tried to bargain. Again, she knew it would be a futile request.

"Not how all this works, sweetheart," Bakker shot down with another chuckle. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and lit one before offering the pack through the bars. Sapphira didn't smoke, just the occasional light for a mission, but she took the proffered cigarette anyway. Bakker lit it through the bars and Sapphira nodded her thanks.

"They're going to torture your friend to death, you know," Bakker mentioned casually, smoke breezing up through the stale air. A light down the hall flickered and Bakker wrinkled her nose in distaste at it.

It was almost funny, Sapphira thought, how she and Bakker were forcing cordial behavior as if they were long lost friends again. Except this time, she was on the inside of the prison cell and Bakker held all the cards.

"They're going to kill you when you've lost your usefulness, you know," Sapphira returned in the same tone, taking a heavy inhale of her cigarette. Sapphira let her mind wander when Bakker didn't respond. Flip would hate the smell of smoke on her. He would also hate how she's being held prisoner. Best to forget about anything but the present moment, Sapphira reminded herself.

Finally, Bakker took the last drag from her cigarette and crushed the butt beneath her toe. "You're wrong about that. If anyone is going to die, it's you." Bakker's eyes flashed with anger and Sapphira couldn't help but wonder if that thought had already crossed her mind.

"Maybe. " Sapphira mimicked Bakker's actions and let her cigarette fall to the floor. "Thanks for the cigarette and your company. This has been a fun chat."

Bakker scoffed, but didn't say anything else before turning and walking away.

"You can walk away now and still get out of this alive. Don't know how much longer you have after your boyfriend breaks her, like you're so convinced he will," Sapphira nodded toward the holding cell.


"I'm going to kill you so pretty, little CIA bitch," Razak hissed into Annie's ear. She suppressed the shiver that instinctively ran down her spine and turned to look him straight in his eyes.

"Not if I kill you first," Annie murmured almost seductively. It was no use to pretend to play the scared American tourists anymore, Annie realized, but she wasn't going to be stupid enough to admit to being an operative. Which, technically, I'm not, Annie thought mirthlessly.

Two of the guards in the room let out a chuckle, obviously able to understand English. "Do you think that's funny, boys?" Annie injected a sunny lilt into her own voice, gracing them with a playful smile.

The older guard exchanged glances with Razak behind Annie's shoulder before replying, "We have three guns pointed at your head. You don't even have weapons."

Annie smiled serenely and nodded, the picture of calm and unruffled. Her mind was running a mile a minute, but she had long since learned her lesson to remain calm in any situation. It was impossible to plan for every outcome, so she learned to go with the flow. "No argument here."

Razak stepped away from Annie and let out a deep sigh as if he was actually pained by what he was about to say. Annie had no doubt that this man had given up on feeling real human emotions ages ago, if he ever had them. He might actually be a bonafide psychopath; it was something of a trend for terrorists to be, it seemed.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to such crass methods of having a conversation with you, but unfortunately, you don't seem to want to chat. Between the two of you lovely ladies, I must admit," Razak took a deep inhale of his cigarette and looked Annie up and down again, "you seem to be the one who would break more easily."

There was no doubt what that would mean for Annie. She spared a glance at the three guards, two of whom had since let their rifles rest against the wall. The third still aimed for her skull, but they all had a look of uncontrollable glee.

"Now, I have a tried and true method of torture that I would like to try out on you. I haven't had much experience with female American operatives, but I want to test the theory that women are weaker, and therefore will break sooner," Razak recited his plans casually, as if discussing how to cook a simple meal.

"So, my American friend," Razak's face broke into a cruel caricature of a smile, "have you ever been tortured before?"