Alfred groaned in pain when he awoke. His bruised neck stung and his head throbbed. He suddenly remembered Ivan attacking him and quickly sat up. The Russian was sitting with his legs crossed.

"Sleep well?" He asked with a dimpled smile. "You looked so peaceful."

The shackle was gone around Alfred's ankle, but the dark bruised remained. Ivan had taken the liberty of removing it while he was out.

"What did you do to me?" Demanded Alfred. He touched his neck, but, jerked his fingers away, wincing.

"I broke your neck."

"You..."

The American swallowed dryly, remembering the cracking of bone just before things went dark. His focus went to the door. The sound of it being unlocked made his stomach drop. Ivan stood up. He was much taller than Alfred as realized.

"Will you be joining me?" The Russian asked, holding out his hand towards him. Alfred took it without much thought. His hand was rough and frozen to the touch. It took Alfred a moment to gain balance on his feet. He had not stood in a long time and his footing was wobbly. "Do not strain yourself too much."

The heavy door opened and guards flooded inside. Ivan avoided their hand-swung weapons, managing to steal a nightstick. He moved gracefully, bashing the guard's head in. His movements were almost like dancing, much lighter on his feet than someone of his size was expected to be. As he fought, he smiled. It sent a shiver down Alfred's spine. He was clearing enjoying his revenge.

One got passed the Russian and advanced at Alfred. He dodged him, sending a fist into the guard's gut. Alfred had been in his share of out-numbered fights. When in the airforce, his street brawling was well known.

Ivan was surprised that the American was holding his own against the swarm of black uniformed men. Alfred had seemed so beaten, but, he assumed the strength to fight was due to a rush in adrenaline. The guards suddenly stopped their advances, an eerie silence falling over the room. Five men were sprawled around, some bleeding out onto the muddy ground. Ivan proceeded in removing the largest of the guard's uniform.

"Why did they stop?" Alfred whispered.

Ivan, pulling on a pair of slacks. They were too short for him, his purple ankles exposed. "Perhaps they are waiting with guns just outside the door?" He slipped on the heavy wool coat only able to fasten one of its many silver buttons.

"If they are, we're as good as dead."

"Ah, ah, aah." Cooed Ivan, placing a cold thumb to Alfred's chin. "Death does not come to us so easily, da? If you do not remember, I could demonstrate that for you again."

"Fuck off." Growled Alfred, shoving away his hand.