Fog.

He remembered this feeling from the day he'd woken up, stiff and broken, but alive. That time, he had been surrounded by his family. This time, as his eyes slowly opened, Gordon found himself staring up at the stone ceiling above him. With a groan, he tried to roll to his side.

"Whoa, oi, take it easy, man," a familiar voice hit his ears just before Gavin's face appeared. "Morning, Sunshine. Looks like you took the hard way gettin' here."

Gordon continued to roll regardless of the warning, squeezing his eyes shut as his head protested. There were more important things to deal with, though, "Where are we? Where's P- where are my friends?"

"Your guess's as good as ours," a feminine voice and he could see Kris sitting against the wall across from him.

"We woke up in this place yesterday," Gavin explained, adding to the conclusion the aquanaut had made when he learned they were missing. "They bring food every once in a while, but no one's thought it necessary to tell us why we're here."

He pushed himself into a slumped sitting position, blinking away the light-headed feeling, "Is anyone else here?"

Gavin and Kris exchanged looks of confusion before the red-head spoke, "Not that we know. You think there're other people here?"

A groan as Gordon realized they might not have the same level of understanding as he did. For a moment, he wondered if he should share the reason he was here in the first place. It wouldn't do them any good if their captors were listening, though. Instead, he shrugged, wincing at the pain still running through him from the fight.

"How long have I been here?" He finally asked, wondering if his family and the GDF were already on their way.

"Not long. They just put you in here. Didn't take much to wake you up," Kris answered with a slight tremble in her voice. Years of training to help ease the fear of those he rescued kicked in and his focus changed to making sure they were calm.

"Hey, at least we're together, right?" Gordon tried to smile despite the swelling in his jaw.

Without warning, a grating noise of metal scraping metal sounded and the door slid open. A pair of men stepped inside wielding rods that looked more debilitating than deadly. Running wasn't an option, but at least they wouldn't be killed if they did.

A third stepped through, well dressed in his middle age as he regarded the trio, "Welcome, I trust you have questions and those will be answered. Please follow me." Though he offered pleasantries, it was obviously an order, not a request.

Gavin stood, offering Gordon a hand up and steadying him as he swayed. The followed the man with Kris on his other side. As they made their way down a cement hall, they passed a room of medical beds, a majority of which were occupied. His eyes searched the faces for any he knew, but they were all unknown. How long had they been here?

The hall led to a doorway that opened into a bright stadium, causing Gordon to pause with the shock of such an expansive structure. In the center, the stone area was empty, but he could make out the unmistakable stains of blood. There was no telling how fresh it had been.

They were ushered into an office, two more men standing on either side of the large oak desk. Behind the desk sat a man Gordon didn't recognize.

"Ah, new recruits! So nice to meet you face to face," his grin was wide, but lacked all form of sincerity. "I've been privy to your matches via my holoscreen, but I'm quite excited to see you in action."

"Sorry, but what do you expect from us?" Gavin growled, ignoring the goons.

"I expect you to fight - for your lives," the smile grew more sinister. "My clients pay a high price to see gladiatorial fights. Now, not all are to the death, but one can never estimate how our top fighters might react. Self preservation and all that."

He felt sick from more than just the suspected concussion he'd been dealt by Micah. This was exactly what Penelope's intel had found. Gordon just found it far more atrocious in person and as a target. His only solace was that the calvary was on the way.

"That's pretty sick, if ya ask me," worry began to creep in as Gavin continued to voice his disgust at the ring leader of this operation. "And if we refuse, I guess you kill us, eh?"

"Precisely, so I suggest you do as your told," the smile finally fell into a unassuming line. "And if you do well, you will be rewarded."

"Leaving wouldn't be one of those rewards?" Gordon hazarded, already knowing the answer.

"The only way out of here is in a body bag," there was no humor behind the warning. "I believe mister Tucker here could use some medical treatment before his first fight. Sean, see that he gets it."

A meaty hand found his arm, jerking him away from his friends. He lifted a hand as it looked like Gavin was about to follow, putting them both in danger. There was no point in resisting. "I'll be fine."

That's as much as he could offer as he was pulled from the office and back the way he'd come. They entered the infirmary and Gordon was deposited onto one of the empty beds. There were more guards to monitor the fighters and he wondered just how much they were being paid to be a part of something so horrible.

A gloved hand caught his chin and painfully turned his head to look into the masked face of whatever medical professional would work on prisoners. "Were you struck in the head?" The man asked as he worked. Gordon simply nodded as the nausea flared with the manhandling. "Nothing appears broken. Push against my hand."

Gordon stared at the hand extended in front of him and he did as he was told, finding it somewhat disconcerting that he strained against the resistance he met. The man when back to poking and prodding his injuries until he was certain about treatment.

"Swallow these," he held out a set of pills and this time the aquanaut hesitated.

"What are they?" He heard himself ask.

The hand found his jaw again, applying enough pressure to send a spike of pain through it before his mouth opened. The pills were jammed in and he fought hard not to choke on them. They were dry as they went down, his eyes searching for water and finding none.

Next, the man returned with a vial and syringe, Gordon was unable to identify what was in the bottle. Fortunately - or not, as the fear grew densly in his gut - this one seemed to be a drug the man was willing to discuss as he drew up a small amount.

"Now this is a little concoction we created to help increase your stamina," there was a smile inflected into the explanation. "Your head is still going to be in a great deal of pain, I suspect, but you'll be able to handle a fight as efficiently as any of them."

Concoction? There was no way he was going to let the guy inject him with something - safe or not. "I think I'll pass, thanks." Sliding off the table was hampered by his personal goon placing a warning hand against his chest to pin him to the bed.

"Don't resist," another warning, enforced by the man on top of him. A gloved hand took his arm while the other slid the needle over the crook of his arm. A jab and the substance was in his bloodstream.

Crap.

They released him after that and Gordon was taken back to his cell. By the time they made it, his hands were shaking with the effects of the drug, head pounding, pulse racing, but strangely, he felt like he could take on the whole facility. It was both horrible and amazing.

He hated it.

Gavin and Kris were returned a short time later, both looking shaken, a stark contrast to how he'd left the hot headed fighter. They barely gave him a glance before Kris slid down the wall, holding her face in her hands. The older man started pacing and he could hear an occasional string of curses.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Gordon asked through nerves that continued to fire with the need to move.

"These assholes plan on putting us in the next fight," Gavin growled, but there was a hint of fear in his tone.

"When?"

"They gave us five minutes to prepare," their eyes met and there was no need to go further.

"What? That's not enough time -" for his family to get to them. For the GDF to rain down experienced officers who could take out the horde of goons. "All of us?"

Gavin nodded, "Seems they prefer no holds barred - kill or be killed."

"But all those people in the infirmary -" it didn't make sense that the group running the fights would want their cash flow to end because all of their fighters were dead.

"Only one of us has to die and then the fight ends," Kris' voice was small, but still sent a bolt of panic through his chest.

"Okay -" he could work with that. They just needed to keep the fight going, find a way to inform the others to keep from killing anyone. No one had to die. "Okay - we can work with that." And maybe the drugs were messing with his thought process, because Gordon wondered what would happen if he knocked everyone out. Challenge the leader's rules. It would be one hell of a feat depending on how many people ended up in the competition.

The door opened before he had time to think of any other options and they were ushered out and down a set of stairs. They stopped at a gate - reminiscent of the gladiatorial battles of old - and they peered into the open arena beyond. Fortunately, weapons didn't appear to be a part of the plan.

A horn sounded, offering an unnecessary amount of fanfare for what was about to happen. The three of them were shoved forward as the gate opened and they witnessed three other entrances doing the same. Groups poured out until there were fifteen combatants encircling the floor, many of whom looked haggard from previous fights.

Gordon had a problem, however.

There were too many.

He was supposed to be saving the day, getting these people out of here, but instead, he would be trying to prevent them from killing each other or himself. He caught Gavin's elbow before he could get too far.

"Hey, if you can, knockouts only or keep this thing going as long as possible," Gordon hoped his speedy instruction made it across before the speakers sounded with the voice of their captors.

"Welcome to day three of this month's battle to the death!" The voice echoed around them and Gordon wondered how often these things happened. "Remember, there are no rules. The fight will end the moment one of you dies and the rest will be advanced to the next event!"

He knew the rules - or lack thereof - but Gordon found himself looking around the stadium and finding it empty. In lieu of seats, he could see cameras. This was being broadcast. Whoever was watching was paying for access and it couldn't be cheap. Which meant there were wealthy individuals out there who were witnessing people killing each other out of enjoyment.

That sick feeling that had been sitting in his stomach flared at that realization, but a shuddered breath sent it back as he refocused on the people around him. They were all scared and who could blame them?

An explosion and fireworks were raining down on them, a bright flare to signify the beginning of the battle.

He moved.

Gordon backpedaled as half of the room converged on the other. These were the people who'd been there the longest - the ones who knew what was at stake. They were the dangerous fighters he would need to take down first.

A large man was after Kris, potentially aiming to end the fight by targeting a much smaller opponent. It didn't help the anger growing in Gordon's chest that he looked like he was going to enjoy it. It did, however, make his first target an easy choice.

Rushing forward, he launched onto the man's back as he attempted to tackle the woman. Instantly, he was being spun as his target fought back against the body that was now attached to him. Gordon didn't hesitate slamming the side of his fist into the man's neck. A second later and he was having to roll off the collapsing form before it hit the hard floor, the man twitching before falling still.

Kris was back up and by his side a moment later and he noticed sets of eyes were turning to him with shocked realization. Movement caught his attention and Gordon turned just in time to block a heavy blow from one of the other opponents whose eyes were wide with fear. They both fell next to the big man, the aquanaut doing his best to keep the fists at bay until someone sent a knockout blow to his attacker's head.

The limp form rolled off of him and Kris appeared, grabbing Gordon's hand to pull up, "Thanks."

"You too," she fell into a defensive stance as the fights continued.

"Make sure no one tries to get these guys while they're down," he surveyed the battle and found the closest two who looked in need of separation. He darted forward before he could hear the confirmation from the woman.

Heart pounding harder than he knew it should, Gordon ran, catching a man who was clearly missing an eye from a previous battle by the arm and pulling him out of range of his assailant. Momentum carried the aquanaut around and his leg swept into a knee that buckled and forced the man to the ground. He didn't stay down long, however, grabbing hold of the appendage that had hit him and twisting hard enough to send a stabbing ache through Gordon's leg as he flipped and crashed to the floor.

Get up! His mind was screaming, but there was a weight on top of him he couldn't move. A meaty arm wrapped around his neck, sending shrill alarms that initiated hours of training. Dropping his chin to his chest, the arm was blocked from moving any further, but was still strong enough to keep him trapped and open to other attacks.

They didn't come, though, the grasp loosening as alarms rang out across the arena - just before the lights went out.