There was a steady dripping coming from somewhere, and as Ashleigh lay with her eyes slowly opening and closing, unseeing, she prayed desperately that it wasn't her blood that was making the noise. Pain seemed to explode from every angle, every limb ached, every muscle screamed and yet it only helped to make her feel alive.

In the darkness, she lay on the cold, ice cold floor, and waited patiently for whatever was going to happen next.

The pain kept her company.

*

With a straight back and an arrogant look on his face, Alec stalked through the corridors of Merkalov's base, not knowing that his daughter's small feet had ran through these hallways only weeks before. He didn't know how close he was to her, that if he had paused he might have heard the whisper of her prayers.

He didn't pause.

Guards scattered before him. They knew not to argue with the scarred man, knew not to get in his way. He was second only to Merkalov in this place. There were even those who wished that perhaps, he should be first.

History was repeating itself. Except this time, Alec's forces weren't Le Loup's men. He had stronger allies this time. All he had to do was get to help them get in.

It was easy enough. Give them a small opening and they could creep in. Slowly, meticulously infiltrating Le Loup's lair. Like cockroaches.

The furthest point of the western perimeter would be ideal. A flick of a switch, a few typed commands and suddenly, there was an entrance.

Simple and easy enough. Yet the simple action left a light sheen of sweat on Alec's brow.

He had betrayed Pierre Merkalov once before by taking his men and leading a rebellion against him. He had set himself up stronger than Le Loup had ever managed, and he had fallen from that position. Now he was in this situation because of that first betrayal and he recognised the irony of it all.

Not to mention the further irony that all he wanted now was a quiet life. His age was starting to creep up on him and he was tired. Tired of all this.

All he had to do was survive. If he did, he could find his daughter.

He hoped that it wasn't too much to ask for.

*

The freezing cold water hit Ashleigh hard, drenching her and jerking her rudely awake from her already disturbed slumber. She lay huddled against the wall as the onslaught continued, gasping, feeling like ice was tearing through her skin. She finally caught her breath in frantic gasps as she tried to blink the water away from her eyes.

'Good morning, Agent Kain,' a rich, rumbling voice said.

Ashleigh struggled to sit up. The floor was freezing, and her already aching limbs seemed to have seized up. As she lifted a hand to wipe water from her face, she saw the bruises on her hands, two of her knuckles were covered in cracked red scabs, and diluted blood ran lightly down to her wrist. She coughed violently and the icy air hit her lungs. She was freezing cold. Finally, she looked up at the person who addressed her.

The man standing over her seemed to be in his sixties, with a round, almost welcoming face half obscured by a thick but neatly trimmed beard. He stood half in shadow, but in the half light she saw a gold tooth glint and she half recognised him.

'I know you...' she said uncertainly.

'Paris,' the man, Le Loup, she realised with a sickening thud of recognition in her stomach, 'we met briefly in Paris.'

'So we did,' the words came awkwardly to her numb lips. She had literally bumped into him. Then he had seemed pleasant, unthreatening, a polite stranger who had helped her gather her belongings. Now she was frightened. He seemed domineering, a huge bear of man who was taking distinct advantage of his standing stance over her own pathetic huddling. She flinched as he leant down, slid a finger under her chin (even that hurt her) and tilted her battered face upwards.

'I was intrigued to see the woman my son had married,' he said and Ashleigh caught the underlying tone that he found her lacking. It was strange that this managed to insult her more than all his harsh treatment of her so far.

'My husband is not your son,' she managed to spit defiantly, the words tearing themselves from her cold, numb lips. She saw rage flicker deep into the man's eyes and she forced herself to stay still.

'I healed him. I gave him everything he could ever ask for. Guidance, power, I did everything that any father would have done. I am the closest thing to a father that he will ever have,' Merkalov's cold tone was clipped with anger.

'He hates you,' Ashleigh said, slowly turning the knife with more than a small amount of pleasure. Years with Alec had taught her the power of vindictiveness.

The blow was sudden, cracking hard across her face. A stinging backhand that clipped her eye and her nose and would no doubt cause more bruising than she already had. He threw her backwards and she hit the wall hard and slumped, feeling pain explode in the back of her head.

'It seems...' Merkalov was breathing hard as he straightened up, fighting to control his anger, 'it seems that you don't warrant too highly in his regard either.'

Ashleigh managed a pointed shrug. It was agony.

Merkalov paced the small cell. Ashleigh took the opportunity to try and regulate her breathing. She had been in this room, this cell for at least forty eight hours. She had slipped in and out of sleep during that time, trying to conserve energy, trying to let her battered body heal.

Le Loup's men hadn't been gentle with her.

She was fearful of looking too closely at her injuries. She knew she was bleeding from at least one gash on her head as her hair was matted with blood but had been reluctant to probe much further. She wondered if the just healed cut from the original attack in her home had broken open. How long ago that all seemed she thought suddenly. And now she was here, in pain, broken, bruised and aching, at the mercy of the man who her husband had once worked for. Who her husband was under the control of. It was a dangerous predicament to be in, but one she had longed for.

He was like a bear, she decided as he paced in front of her. Fit, well muscled, but with the slight slackness and the paunchiness that age brought to most men. His eyes were blue ice, his nose long and pointed, and there was a terrible sense of madness about him. Like he could strike at any moment without the slightest provocation. He already had, though he had been provoked, Ashleigh thought, wiping away a thin stream of blood that had started to trickle from her nose. Her face felt swollen, and breathing was awkward, so she tried hard to calm herself, long, slow deep breaths through her mouth.

'You work for MI6?' Merkalov said harshly.

'If you know, why ask?'

She knew it was stupid, but if she was to die at this man's hands, she would die fighting and bitter to the end. She would not give up. She remained hunched against the wall, her knees drawn up protectively against herself.

Le Loup crouched next to her. He took her face once more, gently this time, his eyes seeking something in her face, looking beyond the swelling and the bruising. 'Yes, I see it now...' he said quietly.

'See what?' Ashleigh asked, but his hand tightened on her jaw, sending sparks of pain through her face.

'So many things,' Merkalov said enticingly. 'What Alec sees in you... how much your daughter resembles you... How much you resemble your father...' His thumb caressed her cheek, sliding gently over the bruised cheekbone, down to the dry lips to trace the round curve of her chin.

Ashleigh's eyes widened at his last statement. 'My father?' she stammered against his hand.

'I met him once. A long time ago. A brave man,' Merkalov smiled again, and for a moment Ashleigh thought she saw reason in his face. '009, yes?'

Ashleigh nodded, awkward though it was while he held her face. She could not believe that her father had met with this man. It seemed insane to be speaking of him and she wondered how long she could hold out against this new form of torture.

'Do you wish to know how your daughter is?' he asked sweetly, persuasively, yet gently reprimanding as well, as if scolding her for not asking sooner.

Ashleigh's heart leapt, yet she tried without much success to keep the eagerness from her voice. 'Yes, of course.'

'She is well. A lovely girl,' an almost wistful smile came over the man's face. 'You must be very proud of her.'

'Is she here?' Ashleigh held her breath.

'She is safe enough,' Merkalov said brusquely, standing up once more.

'May I see her?' desperate hope shone in Ashleigh's eyes as she leant forward.

For a second, Merkalov seemed to consider it. Then he laughed. 'Didn't you know?' he asked blithely. 'Natasha is with her father.'

It was as if a second blow had been struck. She took a moment to register this new information, the slow realisation of betrayal, of pain, and slowly, before Merkalov's eyes Ashleigh crumpled. She slumped, withdrawing in against the wall, her eyes filling with tears.

'She has been with him all this time,' Merkalov said cruelly, another verbal blow after another. 'I thought you knew.'

As Ashleigh closed her eyes to try to stop the tears from falling, all she could hear was the bastard's ringing laughter filling her head, his poisonous words slipping serpent like through her mind, tormenting her with the knowledge that Alec had known. That he had their daughter all this time.

Then finally the laughter was gone. She heard the clang of the heavy metal door as it slammed shut and only when she was sure she was truly alone did she let herself cry.

*

'The bitch killed Van Dien,' Merkalov swore, as he stalked around his makeshift control room. It was the room where he had promised Alec that he could see his daughter, where he had manipulated Jasmin easily and ruthlessly.

'Sir,' the man who guarded him was young and impressionable. He held the machine gun he carried with ease but somehow, you couldn't quite imagine him ever firing it.

'I wanted that pleasure myself,' Le Loup snarled, suddenly more wolf-like than ever. The harsh fluorescent lights caught the iron grey flecks in his hair and the soldier stepped back. He wore one of the wolf rings upon his finger but it was a recent honour and it seemed too large for his fine boned hand. He had never known any life but the life that The Wolf had offered him and never once had he thought to question his leader. However, now, he would have given anything to be as far away from him as possible.

'I want her watched,' Merkalov snapped, jabbing his finger at the screen. On the monitor was a grainy picture showing the inside of Ashleigh's cell. Barely eight foot by eight foot it was lit only by a single high barred opening, not even a window, that let the vicious cold Alpine wind in through and froze the small cell. It was made entirely from concrete that was slick with damp. A thin blanket had been thrown at Ashleigh's feet, and a bucket for her ablutions. A small hatch opened in the bottom of the thick metal door through which a pathetic meal had been shoved three times a day.

Merkalov stalked away. As he reached the door, he turned back to the young guard. 'Trevelyan is not to know of her presence. If he finds out, I will gut you myself. Do you understand?'

The young guard nodded. He was too frightened to do anything but obey.

*

'Alec?' M felt a shiver travel down the length of her spine. She was suddenly on guard. Her body tensed, ready for action the moment her personal line had rung.

'Sir,' his tone was cold but gently mocking at the same time in the way that only Alec could manage.

'You called.'

'As requested. James was quite insistent.'

'Yes, he can be, can't he?'

'Enough with the pleasantries, sir, please. I've done what you've asked. The western perimeter can be breached.'

'For how long?'

'It won't be noticed. I'll make sure of that.'

'Thank you.'

'One last thing, sir.'

'Yes?'

'My daughter. I want your reassurance, your word that she will be found. She will not be sacrificed for your mission. No man will harm her, and every man will be on alert for her. She is to be top priority once the compound is held.'

'Alec...' M closed her eyes. 'Do you really think I could wish harm on a five year old girl?'

'I want your word.'

'Of course you have it. Of course.'

'Good,' Alec was blunt.

'Alec?' M said softly.

'Sir?'

'We'll find her, Alec. I promise.'

She heard the pain in his voice and the tiredness. Yet still there was gratitude.

'Thank you, sir. Thank you.'

As if embarrassed by this open honesty and frankness, Alec was gone. M leant back into her chair and once more scanned the map in front of her, her finger jabbing at a particular point.

Soon. Soon the attack would begin.