When Tom finally awoke his head was pounding, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know that he was trapped. He also didn't need to open them to know he would most likely not live another 24 hours, but still he did.

The cell he was trapped in looked like something out of a movie, complete with metal bars and a large old fashioned lock. The floor was covered in what he presumed to be grains of sand, though in the dim light it was hard to tell. He could just abound make out another cell opposite his, and when he crawled towards the bars noticed several more beside it. He was in a jail.

After giving himself a few moments to get used to his surroundings Tom pulled himself to his feet, but quickly found himself leaning against the wall as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.

"So who are you?" Said a voice from the shadows suddenly.

"Who's there?" Tom almost shouted, whipping around to stare at the cell opposite his.

"The ghost of Christmas past…." Was the creepy reply, "I asked first."

"I'm Tom." Tom replied, "I'm presuming you're a solider."

"Right you are. Or I was until those crazies broke into this place and took over." Came the reply.

"Crazies?"

"Yeah. You can't have missed them. Funny accents, mono brows and wearing some interesting clothing."

"Can't say I've met anyone fitting that description…. Everyone up there was in solder's uniforms."

"So they've stolen our uniforms as well. Great. Those guys as about as close to being soldiers as I am to getting out of here." Came the strangely upbeat reply.

"Is there anyone else down here?" Tom asked, trying see into the cells.

"Nope. There were about fifty of us, all crammed inside five to a cell. One by one they were led out for 'questioning' and never came back. I think they've forgotten about me. So, what about you Tommy-boy? I've never see you around here before."

"I came here with a… friend who was searching for her brother's killer." Tom replied.

"Ah… let me guess. Your friend's name is Sam Nicholls." The solider said after a brief pause.

"How'd you know that?" Tom asked in surprise.

"Well sometimes I caught snippets of conversation as the other men were led away. They kept mentioning her and how their boss wanted her dead, honestly it sounded like he was scared of her, and they kept saying something about her brother." He replied, Tom unable to see him in the dull light.

Tom groaned. Sam had been sent on a wild goose chase into the middle of the desert, most likely so they could kill her, while her brother's killer was running things back at the base.

"Do you know of any way out of here?" Tom asked, looking around his cell for anything that could possibly allow him to escape.

"Yeah… I've been digging a hole out of here for the last 2 years, it's covered with a poster of Miley Cyrus at the back of my cell… Mate, if I knew a way out of here do you really think I'd be sitting here gathering dust?"

"Fair point…" Tom muttered, "So what's your name?"

"Archer." He replied.

Tom was barely listening. The sound of footsteps getting closer and closer had grabbed his attention.

"Aye aye, 'ere we go again. Looks like they're ready to talk to you." Archer said, but this time his upbeat tone was replaced with a wary one.

Two men stepped into the 'jail', one of which Tom recognised as Sergeant Aston, the other he hadn't seen before. The mystery man had jet black hair that was swept back and appeared to have applied far to much gel to his hair to achieve this affect, for it was almost glistening. His sharp features and high cheekbones made him look untrustworthy, and combined with his pale complexion he resembled a vampire.

"What is your name?" The mystery man asked.

"You first." Tom said, backing away slightly.

"You must think I'm a fool. I am aware that you have most likely worked out that this base has been taken over and that your friend is dead or will be very shortly. Even though the chances of you escaping are remote do you honestly think I'd give you any clue as to what my identity is?

"You killed Sam's brother." Tom stated.

"Yes. I did." He said with little emotion, "Now I will ask one more time. What is your name?"

"Harry Potter." Tom replied with a slight smirk.

"Well then, Harry, I'm sorry to have to tell you that you will not be leaving Afghanistan alive and your friend- What is it, Aston?"

Sergeant Aston had let out a strangled laugh, that Tom had a feeling was linked to the terrified expression on his face over actually finding Tom's new name funny."

"He's making that up." Aston said quietly, "The name Harry Potter is fictional."

After letting out a brief sigh the mystery man said, "What is your real name?"

"Ben." Tom replied, "Ben Denton."

"Now, Ben, answer me this. What were you and Dr Nicholls doing here?" He asked, apparently satisfied with the second lie he had been told.

"We were on holiday." 'Ben' replied.

"A holiday? In a war zone? You were coming to look for me. Admit it." The man said angrily.

"Fine. Yes. We were looking for the bastard who killed Sam's brother, which would apparently be you." Tom said.

"And how exactly did you-"

"I don't think there is any point questioning him. He isn't going to tell you anything new." Aston said quickly, cutting him off.

"…Hmm. " The man muttered as he considered this, "Perhaps you are right. Keep going like this, Aston, and I may just let you live. Mister Denton, you are free ot live out the hours of your life that are left. Come, Aston. We have work to do."

Just before leaving Aston lurched over to Tom and grabbed his hand, shaking it roughly.

"Goodbye. It was nice knowing you for the short time that I have." Aston said mysteriously before following the man out of the cells.

"What the bloody hell was that ending about?" Archer said as soon as their footsteps were out of earshot.

Tom didn't reply. He was too busy looking at the key Aston had handed him during that handshake.

"A way out." He said after a few moments.

…

See you again whenever I get more time to update!