A/N: Another amazing amount of reviews, thank you! Things are panning out a little longer than I expected so maybe Zammie in one or two chapter's time but I promise it will be worth the wait, and I hope you action lovers like this chapter!

Previously:

"Let me out!" I screamed again as I hammered on the door. "Let me…"

I froze mid-sentence as I heard a whirring sound coming from the ventilator above me. I began to back away.

"What are you doing?!" I screamed as a yellow gas started to fill the room. I backed against the wall and covered my mouth.

"What… What… you… doing…?" I managed to slur out before my body hit the floor and I was out cold.

()()()()

I opened my eyes and groaned in the sudden blazing light.

"About time" I heard a man say.

I struggled to open my eyes and take in the scene before me. As soon as my eyes were open I wanted to close them again. I was in a different room to the one before. My wrists were in chains that were attached to the wall and my body hung limply. My head felt like it weighed a ton.

"Headache?" the man asked sarcastically. "The sleeping gas hasn't been testing on teenage girls before"

I gritted my teeth. "Where's Catherine?"

"No one's ever been so keen to see me before" She smiled smugly as she stepped in front of me. I sighed with relief.

"Catherine… I thought we were talking… I thought you were going to let me see my dad?" I asked meekly.

"Oh, you will see your dad… in due time" she smiled sweetly at me. "But first, you need to carry out your part of the deal"

"And what's that?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Names" Catherine shrugged.

"Names of what?" I asked.

Suddenly I felt something hit me hard in the stomach. I gasped as my body tensed up with the pain.

"I'm talking" Catherine growled.

"I want the names on that napkin from when your dad took you to the circus"

I thought back to it. It was a little hazy, I'd only been young, but I remembered the names on that napkin fairly clearly… I'd thought it was just trash though…

"I know you remember" Catherine smirked. "Your dad executed a perfect drop pass that day, and I need those names… then, you'll see your dad"

"That's… that's it…?" I asked in disbelief. All she wanted were the names.

"Yes" Catherine nodded. "Simple… isn't it?"

I opened my mouth to reply… but then closed it again.

"Why… do you want the names?" I asked warily.

A fist collided with my jaw, and I felt blood fill my mouth. I ground my teeth together as I tried to stop the scream escaping.

"I don't think that's any of your business" Catherine snarled.

I shook my head numbly. I may have only been a spy for a short amount of time, but even I knew that if I gave Catherine these names I might be doing more bad than good. "I need to know why"

I felt the crack of my ribs as an elbow collided with my side. I squeezed my lips together to stop myself from saying anything I'd regret later and breathed in air through my gritted teeth.

"Not feeling up to screaming?" Catherine smirked. I shut my eyes. The smirk was too much like Zach's.

"Look at my when I'm talking to you!" Catherine screamed as she grabbed my jaw firmly and titled my head so I had no choice but to look at her. "Or… Maybe you think screaming will make you weak? Well, I'm going to make you scream Cammie"

I drew in a deep breath as Catherine picked up a rusty old knife from the table, her face lighting up as if she were actually enjoying the situation.

I watched as she ordered one of the men to sharpen it, and then she approached me. I kept my eyes fixed on hers… and then my gaze moved down to the knife in her hand.

I grimaced as she fingering it thoughtfully, and then dug it into my arm. At first I was only mesmerised by the red leaking from my arm, then as she drew it up from my wrist to my elbow my face scrunched up in pain. I tried to instinctively move my body away but one of the big men had my body pinned against the wall.

"Still not feeling like screaming?" Catherine asked in annoyance.

I shook my head, my lips still clamped tightly together.

She removed the knife from my skin and I breathed out the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

Then she rolled up my top.

"Looks like someone got to you before me" She snarled, as if I was her property. I looked down too and saw she meant the sickly purple bruise I'd got from Dillon. Dillon. I'd thought the worst pain I could ever be in was when I was with Dillon, but I would have rather been with fifty Dillon's than one Catherine right now.

She only brushed the knife over my stomach, making my abs clench with each turn of the knife. Presumably she didn't want to kill me yet, just make me suffer.

"There" Catherine smiled as she looked at my stomach.

I looked down too, and then I felt sick. She'd carved her initials into my stomach, blood leaking from the letters where she'd pressed harder and the knife had cut deeper.

I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. The horror was probably registered all over my face.

"I can see you're not going to talk today, so I'm going to let you have one more chance tomorrow, if not, then you'll be killed, so that's something for you to think about" she grinned.

"Frank, take her back to the room" Catherine barked as she turned away from me and waltzed out the room with such casualness it made me feel physically ill.

The chains were removed from my wrists and I collapsed onto the floor.

"Get up!" Frank ordered and he kicked me in my side. I grimaced as his foot collided with the place he'd elbowed me earlier. I staggered onto my feet and felt Frank lead me back to the room. I felt like I was in a daze, each movement causing pain to shoot through my body.

"Don't cause us any trouble, or you'll be knocked out again" Frank warned.

I nodded obediently as Frank thrust me into the small room and I heard the door lock behind me.

I instantly collapsed onto the bed. I opened my mouth to let out the scream I'd been holding back, but all that came out was a weak sobbing sound. I was instantly angry with myself. "Keep it together Cammie" I whispered to myself urgently. Crying wouldn't sort this out… I had to do something.

I pushed my aching body up and pulled my hands though my hair. The only problem was, there was nothing to do. There were no hidden trap doors like in movies, no secret messages, because this wasn't a movie, this was real life.

I felt stupid as I got off the bed and ran my hands along the cold brick walls in search of anything that would help me. What was I expecting, a secret message telling me the way out?

I laughed to myself and fell back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling in annoyance. The others must have found the cross in the apple by now… now that I thought about it obviously they weren't going to understand the hidden message. I was an idiot.

My eyes caught sight of the ventilator. I stood up on the bed ignoring the protest of my aching body. I stuck my fingers through the small gaps and pulled with all my might until my fingers began to bleed. It was no use whatsoever; it was firmly fixed onto the wall. I rubbed my bleeding hands together and sighed. I was really out of options. I reached my hands further into the ventilator, praying I wouldn't get stuck. My fingers brushed over dust and dirt but I couldn't find anything sharp that I could undo the screws that held the ventilator the wall. My fingers brushed against something, I felt my heart thud.

I drew the object out, but just as instantly as the hope had flashed before my eyes, it was gone. It was just a piece of scribbled on paper. I didn't even feel excited. It was probably just some prisoner that had been held here and killed by Catherine who's left his dying wish. I didn't want to read it, I didn't want to know how bad I would get it tomorrow, I didn't want the responsibility of someone else's life on my shoulders. No; I couldn't read it.

I lay it down on the floor; maybe Catherine's next victim would like a read of it.

I lay down on the bed and groaned. I thought of my dad who might be in the room next door… maybe he was too weak to speak or move, maybe he was really buried six foot down and it really had been a waste of time coming here. I suddenly felt selfish. The whole time I was being tortured I hadn't even been thinking of my dad, or even planning an escape route.

I rolled over onto my side and yelped at the sudden fire erupting through my leg. The glass. I'd forgotten I'd left it in my pocket. I rolled back over and saw the blood seeping through my jeans. I got the glass out and hid it under the bed covers for future reference. I groaned at all the blood. I ripped some fabric off of the cover and held it against my arm and my leg where Catherine had cut me. I knew I should probably do the same with my stomach but I couldn't bear to see the cuts again.

I looked towards the letter, and then it hit me. My dad… a prisoner here. I grabbed it quickly and I was barely able to contain myself as I opened it up.

Dear whoever is reading this… hopefully not Cammie, because that means they have you. And hopefully not anyone from The Circle.

First of all, my name is Matthew Morgan, yes, father of Cammie who is wanted by The Circle. I'm sure you've all gathered that I've spent 5 years trying to bring this organisation down. To finally end it. Well, I've failed. I know there's no way I can do this without the help I left behind. If this is you reading this Cammie, then please remember me and your mom did what we thought was best… and if you're reading this; then I've failed you, because it means you've been caught.

I'm hopeful this is Cammie reading this as I know Catherine threatened to make Cammie come here if I didn't give her the names. And as much as I love you Cammie I can't stand around and watch The Circle ruin other's lives like they've ruined yours. They'll always be after you Cammie, they'll never stop until they get the names… or until you're dead and so I've finally realised, I want you to tell them. We can't win this one, I don't care if they ruined my life, but they're not ruining yours anymore, I won't let them kill you. Tell them Cammie, and get yourself out of here. I couldn't tell them myself, the words just wouldn't come out after 5 years of doing anything not to tell them.

I don't know where I'll be when you read this. I can't tell you the date this was written as I don't know. All I know is they're moving me to the room next door… so maybe, maybe I'll still be in there when you get here… maybe I'll be dead. But I don't want you to come after me; I want you to get yourself out. I mean it Cammie, I'll more than likely be dead, they're done with me now they have you, and I'm lucky I prepared for this and hid a paper and pen.

Well, that's all from me. Don't dwell on this letter, don't think about me wherever I may be. Think about the people you left. Think about your mom, Abby, your friends which I'm sure you have plenty of. Don't feel guilty. Ever. Don't let your mom or your Aunt feel guilty. I'm the only one who's allowed to feel guilty for not being the father you deserve. I'm sorry Cammie. I'm so sorry I won't be there to scrutinise your first boyfriend, to watch you become one of the best spies the worlds ever had, to watch your children grow up and to be a granddad. I'm sorry Cammie. I'm sorry to all of you, and I love you.

M.A.M

I let the letter fall from my hand and the tears fall down my cheeks. I looked up to the ventilator. Well; I had my escape route now… just not my dad.

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