Warning: there is violence, and there is death, but hopefully it isn't that graphically horrible that it'll give you nightmares. Still, you have been warned...

Fearless

There's something 'bout the way the street looks when it's just rained; there's a glow off the pavement.

Multiple footsteps echoed down the corridor. They strode past the many cells which lined the entire hallway, ignoring the prisoners, many of whom shrank back from the sound of approaching authorities...or as close to authorities as you can get in the current situation. But they were all in luck; it wasn't their turn yet.

The footsteps paused outside the cell of an eighteen year old prisoner. This particular prisoner intrigued all the 'authorities'. Nothing they did could frighten her, nothing could crack through the barrier she had managed to put between herself and the world. She was something of an enigma.

But today, they had just the thing to break her.

The girl looked up when she heard the rattling of keys. She didn't change her current position though, and remained in a relatively relaxed crouch with her back against the cold wall. The guards entered her cell, seeing the expressionless mask they had become so used to. Cold blue eyes followed their every move, completely devoid of anything and everything. Empty. Dead.

Dried blood matted the girl's blonde hair, which had been cut so that it hung just above her shoulders, tangled and knotted. Bruises, scars and welts littered her arms, body and legs. Blood still seeped through the rags which had once been clothes. Despite all the apparent torture, the girl still didn't cave. It was infuriating. Not to mention a little bit frightening.

"Come one," one of the guards snarled, "We have a little present for you today."

He and the other guard simultaneously grabbed one of the girl's arms each, hauling her starved body to its feet and dragging her out of the cell. The girl didn't put up much of a fight – a week without food had seen to that – but she still did her best to make the guards jobs that little bit harder. She still had her dignity to preserve, after all.

Eventually though, she was dragged into a rather dimly lighted room with concrete floors and a tin roof. There were three people already in the room, two men and one woman. It was before them that she was unceremoniously deposited.

"Ah, Miss Swan, how nice of you to join us."

Desiree lifted her head off the ground and sent the man standing in the middle a blood freezing glare. The man merely chuckled.

"A week without food and yet you still defy us? Well, well, well, they really did train you well didn't they?"

Desiree was going to make some comment or other about how every single psychopathic maniac she'd ever met seemed to enjoy repeating words three times in a row, but she didn't think her excessively dry throat would be able to handle that. Not to mention the fact that she doubted she even had the energy to form those words in the first place. So she settled for shooting the taunting man another one of her famous glares.

Which resulted in another round of patronizing chuckles.

The AIS's unit one had been on a mission two months prior, trying to bust a counterintelligence network that had been operating right under the Government's nose. Neither ASIS nor ASIO, Australia's two officially existing intelligence agencies had been successful, so the Government had called on the AIS, relying on Australia's best intelligence service to get the job done. Unfortunately, unit one had been so busy working their way up the counterintelligence hierarchy that for one recklessly minute moment, they forgot to watch their backs.

Until there was a knife in it.

It had been a cowardly thing to do, a desperate last attempt by the counterintelligence to protect their network. And it had resulted in a seriously wounded Jake, an unconscious Terry, Dean tottering on the verge of death, and Desiree being dragged away at gun point when AIS backup had arrived.

In the three weeks since their informant had squealed to the opposing side, the man at the top of the counterintelligence network had hounded Desiree over and over for the amount of information they'd managed to gather before things had gone wrong. And each time, the girl had resisted their attempts, no matter how cruel, how painful, how inhumane.

Until now, the leader of the counterintelligence, Neal Linear, thought with a sadistic smile as he gazed at the feeble looking girl lying at his feet.

"Miss Swan, if I must say myself, you do look unflatteringly thin," Neal sneered. Flanking him, his second and third in command chuckled, "Perhaps you would like something to eat?"

The doors opened again, and the tantalizing smell of roast with potato and gravy drifted into the room before the guard even came into sight, holding a tray with the roast cut up into tiny pieces in order to increase the effect of the smell. The tray was handed to Neal before the guard left again, closing the door behind him.

Neal set the plate on the ground, just out of reach of Desiree's crumpled form. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Looks like a delicious lunch, don't you think Miss Swan?"

Desiree glared at the man with hate filled eyes. She had known, a week ago when the order had been given to stop feeding her, that food was going to be a majorly tempting trigger, the weak crack in the wall she'd built up around herself. At that moment though, she was starving. If they'd only put the plate slightly closer!

Without thinking, she reached out slowly towards the food. Her hand trembled though, when she realised that it was most definitely out of range. The girl bit her lip to stop herself crying. God, she was just so hungry.

"I would give you this food, Swannie," Neal grinned, watching her feeble struggles to stop herself from responding, "After all, I couldn't possibly eat this all by myself!"

He picked up a slice of the tender meat, and waved it towards the girl, whose cold blue eyes flickered slightly as she struggled not to focus on the food. She failed miserably.

Reaching out a shaking hand, the girl reached for the roast again. She was so close, so close, before Neal snatched it back again. This time, Dessi couldn't help the whimper that came out of her mouth. Neal grinned at the sound. They were so close...

"Tell you what, if you give us one piece of information, I'll give you a piece of this delicious roast. Hm?"

Desiree groaned out loud. She wanted...no, she needed the food! But, she couldn't...

Against her will, her head slowly nodded and she licked her lips. Casting her mind around, she picked and disregarded pieces of information until she found one that was so useless it was almost irrelevant.

"Ro –" she broke off in a coughing fit. Her voice was hoarse from its unused. Swallowing, she tried again. "Robertson," she whispered, "Snitch."

Peter Robertson was the man who'd been their informant before he'd given them up to Neal and his crew. Prior to that, he'd been working for Neal, before he turned snitch. Dessi had no idea what had made him turn back.

Neal growled under his breath. He knew that Robertson had been a snitch. He found the man out himself, passing information onto the AIS. The man had told him where the unit could be found in a desperate attempt to save his traitorous life. He'd failed miserably. And his body would be forever a warning for the rest of Neal's counterintelligence agents.

Huffing slightly, Neal allowed his prisoner to take the tiny morsel of food from his hands watching as she devoured it with an almost animalistic need. But he had to give the girl the food, to show that he could be trusted. Humans were, after all, merely animals when all else had been stripped away.

However, that move had been a wrong one. It seemed that once the girl swallowed the morsel of food, she closed off again. No amount of tempting, or threatening, could get her to say anything else. Finally, Neal had to admit defeat. His second and third in commands were glaring at the girl in frustration, but he still had one last trick up his sleeve.

"Well then Swannie, I guess we'll just have to bring our guest in. See if he can tempt some answers out of you!" Neal turned towards the door with a yell of "Bring him in!"

The door flung open again to reveal two guards wrestling someone into the room, with a bag over their head to cover their face. The hostage put up a great fight, shouting and cursing at the guards while writhing around, trying to break free. Desiree looked on with increasing horror, her heart sinking to a level she hadn't thought was possible. I know that voice...

The hostage was dumped to the ground, before the bag was ripped off his head. And in that moment, Desiree's heart began to break.

Derik Wilkes looked around, blinking rapidly to refocus his eyes. The first thing he saw was Desiree.

"Des-des! What are you...what's going on...why are we...you look horrible," he finally said, after taking in the starved, beaten frame of his girlfriend.

Desiree meanwhile had turned her attention back to Neal. "No, let him go!" she pleaded in a hoarse voice, wincing slightly from the pain of speech, "This is between you and me! He has no part in this!"

"Ah, on the contrary though, when the government decides to meddle in things that are not their business, everyone is part of it whether they like it or not," Neal smirked.

Derik frowned at the man, confused. "Dessi? What's she got to do with the government?"

If at all possible, Neal's face brightened even more. "You mean, you didn't tell him?" He asked Desiree, who was silently begging him to stop.

"What? Tell me what? Dessi?" Derik looked around at the girl, who's blue eyes were overly bright with unshed tears.

"Well, isn't this fun! We can all learn a little about everyone! I'll go first," Neal smirked, "You boy, guess what? You're girlfriend is a spy."

There was a shocked silence, well on Derik's part anyway. Dessi was currently avoiding his eyes, looking down at the ground in shame. He took that to be confirmation.

"And guess what else?" Neal went on in his sadistic moment, "You're here because of her! Isn't it great?"

"Dessi?" Derik whispered softly, not quite past his shock. Desiree flinched at his tone, looking up at him with miserable eyes.

The next moment, Neal had drawn a gun, taken it off safety, and pushed it right next to Derik's head. "Enough games," he spat, "Swannie, if you start telling me answers by the time I count to five, he's not going to be leaving the room alive."

Desiree shook her head. "No," she whispered.

"Five"

Derik's temper flared like it always did when he was scared. And right now, he was scared enough to wet his pants. "Say something!" He shouted, causing the girl to flinch at his tone.

"I...I can't," she whispered, tears slowly escaping her eyes.

"Four"

"WHAT? You're just going to let me die?"

"No, no, no! Please, don't" Desiree begged Neal.

"Three. Better start talking soon!" Came the taunt.

"Desiree!"

"I...I'm sorry!" Desiree choked out, "I never wanted...I thought you'd be better off not knowing!"

"Two."

"Well right now," Derik said, his voice cold. Fear, pure undiluted fear haunted his eyes. He didn't want to die. Not like this. "Right now, I wish I never knew you!"

Desiree flinched, shrinking back slightly. She shook her head, tears falling hard and fast from her eyes.

"I hate you!" Derik shouted.

"One."

The trigger pulled with an echoing bang.

I don't know why, but with you I'd dance in a storm, in my best dress.

Fearless.

.:X:.

OMG! I killed someone off! Well, rest assured Alex/Dessi fans that Desiree will no longer be going out with Derik. May he rest in peace.

Thanks to all my reviewers so far! And thanks for reading!

Love Chariots99