A/N: Sorry for the delay, I'm just really busy now, having to balance university and work… Hope you enjoy this chapter! And please don't kill me...

Don't own them…

Chapter 12

Brandt began to stir but didn't rush with opening his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on before he advertised his now conscious state. He was sitting on a chair, tied to it securely, as his arms were completely unable to move. Great… Just what he needed – being sent on a rescue mission and having to be rescued himself. Finally his curiosity made him give up to his fate and he opened his eyes.

The room he was in was quite small and lit a bit dimly (Brandt was actually glad about it now since bright light would have hurt under such circumstances). He wasn't alone. As soon as he showed signs of coming to, he sensed someone tense behind him. But his major attention fell on the man standing in front of him. Apart from the overall sickening expression, the most notable thing on his face was the broken nose. Brandt immediately thought to himself that whoever had done it was his personal hero.

"Nice of you to join us," Brandt hated the voice the very instant he heard it. It sounded quite nasal because of the man's injury. It least that was satisfying.

"Who the hell are you?" the former analyst managed despite the complete soreness of his throat.

"Well, considering that it is you who has been sneaking here and there for quite a while now, I think the question is, who the hell are you?"

Brandt's head snapped to the side as he received a painful punch to the jaw.

"Or maybe I should wait till my men get your interfering little friends?" the man asked, and William's heart sank. So his people were after Ethan and Jane. He could only hope they would be able to defend themselves. Another thought was drilling his brain with unbelievable force. It was more than likely that this man knew what had happened to Benji. And, for that matter, that he had caused it to happen. However, at this stage Brandt decided to play dumb.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in the most innocent and scared voice he could muster. "I'm just a tourist… please…"

"A tourist?" he man gave out a chuckle. "And you and two of your fellow 'tourists' spend most of your time at a police station?"

The agent mentally kicked himself for such a stupid suggestion. He didn't have the right to make such mistakes.

Another mighty punch to the jaw sent his world spinning. His lip split and a thin trail of blood ran down his chin. His captor stood there, looking at him, seemingly thinking something through.

"Okay," he said, and his face grimaced in a stupid grin. "Your attitude just reminds me of someone I met a few days ago. I think you would like to meet him, too. He's such a peculiar person. Enjoys being a mystery, just like you".

Brandt's heart was racing. He was almost entirely sure he knew who this guy was talking about. So Benji was alive. That was a great relief. However, the tone he was using was really alarming.

"I should warn you though, I don't think you will make friends with him. He's a bit too… special," as the tied man looked up in utter puzzlement, he showed another disgusting grin and proclaimed "Send him to me".

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Benji tried to think. He had to figure out… something. Anything. Crying wouldn't help here. He wouldn't get far by moaning.

The main discouraging point was that he had no idea where to even start his thinking. What was this Anti-God? Some kind of nanotechnology? Most likely. Benji started wondering what would happen even if he managed to escape somehow. Would he be able to get it out? How were they controlling him? And was there really a way to stop it?

Then his thoughts trailed off to other matters. So they were interested in his skills. Fair enough. He cringed, realizing that they could virtually make him commit any kind of crime. Do anything. And get away with it. He was essentially a weapon in their arsenal.

He suddenly had a rush of energy and ran to the door of his cell room. It wasn't even locked. Without any thought he ran downstairs, not realizing what and why he was doing. It all was a bit of a blur after that.

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Brandt was completely mesmerized when he watched a man enter the room. It was the person he was afraid he would never see again. The person he had missed and was afraid he would never be able to talk to. It was his best friend. However, the ex-technician's appearance didn't make William all that happy. The sight of the other agent's bandaged and lifeless left arm made him wince, sending the flashbacks through his mind. It couldn't be because of that wound… It couldn't be that serious… The unsteady way Benji walked suggested some possible internal damage.

The worst thing this was his face. All bruises and small bleeding cuts aside, the expression on the tech's face was terrifying. That is, the lack of any expression. Not a single muscle flinched on that mask he seemed to be wearing. Brandt wondered whether it was indeed someone wearing a mask of his friend.

"Benji…" the ex-analyst couldn't hold back the whisper.

"Oh, so you know him," the man cheered. It was clear he had been expecting that. "Say, shall we let you have a little reunion?"

At that very moment Benji's face showed the signs of recognition. His blue eyes looked so pained, so absolutely terrified and miserable. And a bit guilty. It was hard for Brandt to take it. Benji wasn't supposed to look like that. He was supposed to offer that famous big goofy grin of his, to crack silly jokes and annoy the hell out of Ethan.

The grin on the captor's face widened as he took out a gun and gave it to Benji who took it without a single world. Brandt's eyes went wide with utter shock.

"I see you are curious," the suited man added. "Well, before you die, I think you can know Benjamin's little secret. Let me show you something".

He produced a knife from somewhere in his pocket and approached the ex-tech who never stopped looking at the analyst. And then the man just moved the knife towards Benji's face and drew it across his forehead. Brandt wanted to scream. Wanted him to stop, as he saw blood pouring down from the cut. But his voice died in his throat. There was something even more unnaturally terrifying about it. Benji didn't even flinch all the way through. He was now looking down, not reacting to anything.

"Impressive, isn't it?" the suit guy moved aside, looking quite satisfied. "He didn't feel anything, don't you worry. But now you will be even more impressed," he looked at Benji whose face was now almost completely red. "Shoot him".

Patronized, Brandt watched the former tech draw the gun and take aim right at his chest.

"Benji," he couldn't understand anything. Was he sleeping? "What is going on? Do you even hear me? Benji—"

He was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. At first he couldn't understand what was going on until he looked down and saw blood pouring down his shirt. And then the pain hit him.

"Oh, come on, take a better aim!" the guy now sounded irritated. "That's right…"

Another gunshot echoed from the walls of the building. This time Benji had, indeed, taken a better aim.