Clarity

by SunshineNGunpowder21

Deputy Avery Mason thought she had left the war when she went back to civilian life. Never did she expect to enter a new battle on the homefront of Montana. When things are never what they seem, who can one trust when they are alone? Sometimes a broken mind is what you need to find the truth. Eventual JacobxOC

8. Chapter 8

Hello everyone! Thank you for the reviews and constructive criticism. I appreciate you pointing out things that I may have missed or not realized I was doing. Moving forward, I tried to address those flaws.

Also, if the previous chapter's confrontations were a little confusing, I apologize. To some degree, it was intentional because gunfights are never clear cut. I will try to make it cleaner in the future.

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

John set the bowl and rag down on the rolling cart just as the side door opened. Two men entered, dragging in the unconscious deputy. A pleased grin curled his lips and he beckoned the men to where he was standing.

"She can be set up here," he motioned.

One of the men looped both arms around the girl as the other retrieved a wooden chair from the assortment along the wall. Together, they set her down into it and began to bind her wrists.

"All went according to plan, I assume?"

"Yes, sir. She fell for it like you said she would."

"Typical," he replied. Once the men finished binding her, he ordered, "Go retrieve Hudson and set her up across the room."

"The other officer?" One of the men questioned, not sure why he wanted to do two confessions at the same time.

"That's what I said. I may need her as persuasion if our guest decides to not yield."

Knowing it was not wise to press the subject, the men retreated out the door, leaving John and Avery in the room.

Stepping next to her, he evaluated the damage done during her retrieval. There was a swollen bump on the right side of her head but no puncture of the skin.

"You really should be grateful. I spared you from a bliss bullet this time. Wanted to make sure you were fully aware for your confessions…" He didn't get a reply from the unconscious girl.

He knew she would be coming around soon and if she didn't, he had a little syringe with the magic to make it happen. Eager to get started, he made his way to the door to retrieve his tools.

"We'll get started shortly, my dear."

/././././

Muffled whimpering tickled the edges of her consciousness. The strange sound was almost muted to her senses and she wondered if it was her making the noise. Then again, she didn't feel any tears, so maybe it was just her imagination.

Opening her eyes, she was welcomed to an unfamiliar sight, blurry and dark. Despite the dim lighting, the room still seemed too bright for her throbbing temple. Instinctively, she tried to lift a hand to ease the ache in her head but was restricted to a wooden chair.

Snippets of the earlier events returned, some quicker than others and jumbled in the timeline. There was the hostage retrieval that Dutch tasked her to, which ended up being a trap. The second van, she thought held innocent passengers, was filled with peggies. Men had poured from the back of the van behind her while the passenger of the vehicle had snuck around the front to restrain her.

She had thought the task was going smoothly because of the cult's predictability. Regrettably, it backfired when the cult counted on her predictability instead, leading to being captured. She had to admit, she underestimated their tactics and now she was paying the price.

It seemed her luck was, indeed, running low.

As Avery's eyes adjusted to the hazy room, she could make out the whimpering coming from a bound person across from her. After a moment, the blurry figure cleared to reveal Joey tied to an office chair.

Joey's angst was obvious as tears washed away the grime caked on her cheeks. The effect was the opposite of running make up but more depressing to see on the seasoned deputy.

"Joey… are you hurt?"

Avery got a mumble, incoherent reply and Hudson pulled on the binding that held her still. The old office chair was situated on wheels that shifted a few inches as Joey struggled with her feet bound to the base of the pole.

"Ok—ok… Hold on. It's going to be alright," Avery calmed in hopes to ease Joey's dread.

Shifting as much as she could, she tried to take in the room, looking for objects to cut the binding, escape routes, other people lingering nearby.

The room they were in seemed to be an old storage cage in a concrete structure. To her left was a cage like wall with a steel door behind Joey. She could barely make out the empty landing just outside the bars or the strange light above the panicked deputy.

Avery wondered if the room was an old work area of some kind, but the remnants were not enough to paint a clear picture for her. The opposite cement walls didn't provide any further insight either.

Whistling drew her attention to her left where John appeared with a metal toolbox in hand. The usual jacket was gone, and his blue shirt had the sleeves rolled up past his elbows while the front was only partially buttoned. The Baptists didn't spare her a glance as he set the box on the workbench and wiped off the table with dramatic strokes.

Damn, she wished she woken earlier.

John turned around and leaned against the workbench as he regarded her, pleased that she was awake.

"Have a good rest, Deputy?"

Avery didn't offer an answer but glanced at Joey behind him. The poor girl was dispirited once John's presence was known.

"Today there will be no physical cleansing but instead, we'll practice our confessions—which, I suppose you could argue, is cleansing the soul. I would say that's more important than the physical version, wouldn't you agree?"

Avery's attention returned to him, suspicion lacing her features, but she didn't answer.

"You're clearly not in the conversational mood, but that doesn't matter right now. You are probably wondering what to expect from this lesson, so let me enlighten you.

My parents were the first ones to teach me about the power of yes. One night, they took me into the kitchen, and they threw me on the ground, and I experienced pain after pain-after pain-"

He slammed his hand on the table, eliciting a cry from Joey who kept her eyes clenched shut in hopes to block out the sight before her. John didn't seem to care one way or another for the fear he was causing, his entire attention was on the new toy in the room.

"And just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, I did." He stepped towards her with something she couldn't make out in his hand. The lamp on the rolling bench beside her turned on and he directed the light to wash over her. "Something broke free inside… I wasn't scared. I was… clear."

Avery swallowed but tried to remain unaffected. His sharp gaze didn't leave her as he continued his story while hooking up the device in his practiced hands.

"I looked up at them and started to laugh. All I could say was… yes." He turned on the tattoo gun and a muffled cry left Joey at the sound. "I spent my entire life looking for more things to say yes to."

The reassurance she wanted to give Joey died in her throat as John stepped to her and ripped open the top quarter of her shirt.

"Wha-stop!" Avery ordered, trying to sink into the wooden chair, fighting for any inch to put between her and the man.

"Shh," he hushed, allowing his eyes to roam over her chest. Avery gritted her teeth from embarrassment. "It was Joseph who showed me just how selfish I was being."

He grabbed the rag from the bowl and began to roughly wipe down her collar bone and chest. "Always receiving. Always taking. The best gift isn't the one you get, it's the one you give. And that takes courage."

The cold water was soaking the remaining fabric of her shirt and the uncomfortable trickle of water down her bra made her cringe. The way John looked at her skin caused heat to rise to her cheeks but that was the only warmth she felt.

Dropping the rag into the basin, he returned to the workbench, leaving Avery feeling dirtier after his cleaning.

"To own your sin and etch it to your flesh and carry the burden until you have endured!" he began to pace between her and Joey. His pitch rising and falling during his speech dramatically. "And when you have endured and truly begin to atone—to cut it out like cancer and display it for all to see. My God that is courage… And I will teach you courage. Teach you how to say yes, Deputy. You need to confront your weaknesses-Confront your sin."

"So, this is your method of converting people to join your beliefs? Torture?" Avery questioned, somehow finding her voice despite her discomfort. "I can't understand how regular confessions fail but torture does it for them. Gives me an idea of the type of people you recruit though."

John chuckled at her jab but was unphased. "Humans resist taking accountability for their actions. This is just a motivation for them to get it done."

When she didn't respond, he continued.

"You think you are special and better than us, but you have sinned. Oh," he paused. "You have sinned. And you need to atone for those sins."

Her bravery was ebbing away, being washed over with unease as to what would happen next. She was certain she would be tortured but the suspense at that moment was worse.

John was toying with them; this she was certain. The way Joey was beginning to panic, pulling at her bindings and the muffled pleas were only increasing the more he talked. She wanted to tell Joey it would be alright, but the words felt empty.

The Baptist still didn't spare Joey a glance. Instead, he leaned against the bench and smiled charmingly. "So, who wants to go first? Hm? Which one?"

Avery kept her mouth shut. She had no intention of volunteering for it, especially when she was certain he would choose her regardless.

"This is lesson number one," he enunciated each word threateningly, and Joey was beginning to turn frantic in her chair. The sight disturbed Avery, but she stubbornly refused to give into John.

It will be alright. He wants me, she thought, wishing she could calm her friend.

"Someone has to choose!" John's patience was nearly depleted, and his ire caused Avery to flinch.

Seeing that he was being ignored, John spun towards the workbench and slammed his hands on the wooden top. Gripping the bench, he was prepared to flip it over, though hesitated at the last moment as he reigned in his emotions.

He could choose Avery first, but the goal of this was to have her say yes. She needed to willingly give in to the assertion. The woman's stubbornness was pushing his grasp on his temper however, he couldn't allow her the satisfaction of him acting out.

Turning back to face the two girls, he leaned a hand on the bench and looked to Joey for the first time that evening. A charismatic smile appeared; all irritation neatly tucked away behind his carefully constructed façade. He could play Avery's game as well.

"You know, dear," he began, now ignoring Avery. "It only makes sense to finish up your confessions now. You can show the rookie what she has to look forward to."

After plucking a scalpel from the box, he stepped towards Hudson who began to sob openly.

Avery watched in mild shock that her plan backfired and wondered if it was a bluff. For all the work and trouble the Project went through to get her, she was certain John would have started with her.

But once again, he was not as predictable as she assumed.

The idea scared her.

I'm in over my head…

"My little envy. What other sins do you have hidden away?" he hummed as he sank to his heels. "Do you have any other devious little green monsters inside?"

Joey was in tears and she pulled at her bindings. The sight twisted a knot in Avery's stomach. It was her fault. Her companion was suffering because of her stubbornness. At least Avery could mentally handle the torture while Joey looked to be at her limit.

"Shh, you know crying isn't going to make this go any faster."

"Stop, John. Leave her alone," Avery demanded but it felt weak to her ears.

The man didn't stand up, didn't even address her or spare her a glance. Instead, he continued to speak with Hudson who hoped he would leave her alone.

"How funny. She thinks she can order me around and be rude by interrupting your session. You have seniority over her, so it makes senses that we continue with your confessions where we left off."

Avery gritted her teeth at being ignored. Whether it was a bluff or not, she couldn't afford to gamble with Joey in the middle of it. She couldn't allow someone else to get hurt because of her.

Avery swallowed all her instincts that said not to draw attention from him.

"Yes! I want to confess my sins."

John paused and glanced over his shoulder to her. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of ignoring her in hopes that she would continue to plead for his attention, but he tossed the idea out. There was a chance it would backfire, and that was not his overall intent.

No need to get greedy.

Standing, he faced her fully, leaving Avery fearing that she made a mistake.

"Say that again."

The tightness in her chest didn't release and she gave him a suspicious look. "I said I want to confess—"

"No," he drawled out while he waved hand not holding the scalpel. "Not that part."

Avery clenched her fists, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear from her. A part of her contemplated on not answering him but a quick glance at Joey told her it would not be wise to test John further.

"…Yes."

Delighted by her submission, John raised his arms out to the side and took a deep breath in. "Finally…. Finally, some cooperation."

Dropping his arms, he pinned her with his hooded gaze as he began to walk towards her. Avery grew more nervous as each step swallowed the distance between them, but she did all she could to not reveal her thoughts.

"Again." He ordered quietly.

Her brows creased but she obeyed despite every part of her feeling repulsed by the word. "Yes."

The Cheshire like grin curled as he reached her chair. Leaning over her, his hand rested on her right forearm while the one holding the scalpel gripped her jaw. The man's ring finger rested against her fluttering pulse as he examined the emotions behind her eyes.

"Again," he demanded huskily. Avery swallowed, not caring that he felt it against his palm.

He's getting some sick enjoyment out of this!

She hoped the thought would spark her defiance but all it did was feed her fear.

"…yes," she whispered between clenched teeth.

His eyes never left hers, but the grin only grew.

"Good girl. That's all I needed to hear," he released her jaw and stepped back

The times before weren't enough? She thought spitefully.

"You have my undivided attention, but you won't keep it if you don't start confessing."

He wasn't bluffing. That much was true. If she didn't give him something, he would return to Hudson and she doubt she could pull him away a second time. Seeing as this was the first time that Hudson was quiet, Avery knew she needed to play along.

Unfortunately, she was drawing a blank on what to offer the Baptist. The only things coming to mind were silly little examples, getting a speeding ticket, stealing a salt and pepper shaker from a restaurant, lying to people. Nothing that would hold his interests.

There were more influential sins that she had, but she refused to acknowledge them. She just needed to give him something of enough value, while making sure it wasn't used as ammo against her.

Not getting a response from the junior deputy caused John's temper to burn once again. He was about to turn back and take it out on the other deputy when he caught a foreign emotion in Avery's expression. If he had to guess, he assumed she was deep in thought rather than blatantly ignoring him.

If that was the case, he could manage to sustain his temper for a little longer. As long as it helped to get her talking.

"You know," he drawled out, pulling her attention back to him. Crossing his arms, he looked indifferently at her before staring off, as if something else held his attention. "I understand it wasn't pleasant to watch Hudson panic over there. She is being rather unreasonable in confessing her sins. It's not my fault that she is dragging this out longer than necessary, but that is neither here nor there."

He glanced back to make sure she was listening.

"Surely you feel responsible for her. She is in this position because of you, after all. It must have been quite the pill to swallow to volunteer your atonement."

As the words hung in the stale air between them, understanding dawned on her. He was cherry picking her sin, dangling it in front of her in hopes that she would bite.

So, this was his game. The fact that he knew her well enough to pull out this awareness did not sit well with her. Maybe there was a method to John's madness after all.

The thought left her cold.

Faith had been just a charming poster child to her drugs. John, on the other hand, was cunning and manipulative.

The Baptist could see the cogs turning in her head as she made sense of what he was saying. He resisted displaying any amusement and opted for mild impatience instead.

"I can't confess for you, dear."

Avery clenched her fist again. He was too cunning.

Taking a breath, she began her declaration. "You're right. I did have to swallow my pride to get you away from Joey."

There was no sign of irritation or resentment, so she assumed he knew her motives weren't just to reach atonement. He wasn't fooled by her lies.

Tucking this information away, she tried to be mindful of any further mental traps he had for her.

"And… it was my pride that put her in the position to begin with. I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of volunteering first because I figured you would have picked me regardless of what I had to say... Obviously, I was wrong."

You were almost correct, he mused. He had to be mindful of what his moves were, it seemed, just as much as she did. Unfortunately for her, it seemed she might be outmatched.

After she admitted to the previous events, she found it all poured freely from her. She didn't bother to restrain herself, knowing that resisting would only cause more harm.

"I have a lot of pride and occasionally I have acted selfish because of it. I always thought it was because I was stubborn and trying to prove myself to those who doubted me. Most of my life, people have told me what I can and can't do because I'm a small girl. Pride is something I thought always made me stronger and showed others that I was capable… But… if it wasn't for my pride the night of our arrival, none of us would be here now."

She didn't want to do it, but she risked a glance at Joey. The look that met her was one of shock and resentment, but she wasn't sure if it was towards her or John. If it was directed at her, she didn't blame Joey.

"Go on," John urged flatly.

Avery complied.

"When I was in the church, Whitehorse waited for me to make the arrest. He didn't say anything, even as Burke kept yelling at me to detain Joseph. I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to do, but as soon as I saw your brother challenge me…" she paused as if replaying the events. "My pride took over and I made the arrest. I wanted to prove I wasn't afraid of what the Project stood for and for that, my team was captured and tortured. Initially, I was trying to look at the situation objectively, but I let this sin dictate my next actions. In the end, my team paid the price for my pride. But that's why I'm trying to get them—"

"Doesn't that feel better?" John interrupted. She was going to justify her attempts to right the wrong but that defeated the purpose of the confession. "Pride. Now that is quite the heavy sin you bare..."

He walked behind her and leaned his forearms over the back of her chair, his breath fanning over her exposed neck and shoulder. He picked up a lock of her hair that had fallen from her ponytail before continuing. "In fact, it can be the worst sin out of the seven. It is, after all, what transformed an Archangel into the Devil."

Avery opted to stay quiet.

John chuckled after a moment passed and released her hair. He walked into her line of vision and leaned over her again. "You have convinced me. Although, before we get too far into this, it's only proper that Deputy Hudson goes back to her room. Confessions are supposed to be private."

Stepping away, he strolled to Joey's chair, causing the girl to renew her struggles. He unlocked the wheels and pushed Hudson towards Avery where she saw the worry in her companion's face as she came to a stop.

"Shh, I'm not here to take your life. I'm here to give it to you."

Joey looked at Avery and shook her head solemnly.

"It's going to be alright," Avery tried to reassure her, but John barked out a laugh.

"You have a long night, deputy. Don't think this is going to be a smooth confession." He shifted to stand in front of her, a new hunger burning in his expression. The starved look was familiar to what he wore the night of the cleansing, leaving Avery silent. Large hands wrapped around her throat and he began to squeeze.

"I'm going to pour your worst fears inside of you until you are choking on your sins." As if to prove his point, his hands tightened. Terror filled her as she tried to jerk free, but it was futile. The more she struggled, the more excited he became. "I will leave you gasping and renewed… but not a second before it is time. You will drown in pain as retribution for your sins. Only then will you reach atonement."

Then as suddenly as it started, he released his grip and returned to Hudson.

The unhinged glee was diluted to his charming façade before he offered his parting words. "I'll be right back."

Joey's objections fell on deaf ears as she was pushed out the door behind Avery, leaving her alone in the quiet room.

I have to get out of here…

The situation wasn't ideal. It would have been easier to try an escape with Joey in the same room, but she didn't have the luxury of that any longer. Fortunately for her, the chair she sat in was wooden unlike her companion's.

Rocking her weight back and forth, the chair balanced on the right hind leg before slamming back to all fours. Again, she tried, hoping that the weight on the single leg would weaken and break it. After a few more tries, the chair collapsed, causing her to land hard on the concrete floor with a startled squeak.

The impact scared her more than hurt, however, the arm and leg had successfully snapped. If the chair had been newer, and not sitting in the dark recesses of God-knows-where, then it might not have worked.

Kicking her ankles free from the ends of the wooden legs, she rolled to her feet and sent a few kicks to the remaining body of the chair. After the fourth kick, the left arm broke free, allowing her to slide the rope bound wrist from the end.

Not wanting to waste time, Avery rushed to the workbench and searched the toolbox for a weapon; anything to aid her escape. There were a variety of tools; a ball-ping hammer, saw, and a fillet knife. The site of crude instruments made her throat restrict, but morbid curiosity questioned just what John's methods were for the tools. Shaking the thoughts away, she settled for the scalpel he left behind.

The blade was short, meaning easier to conceal, but sharp and lethal if used right. She wasn't needing blunt instruments to escape, just something to help slow down anyone attempting to stop her. It would be more work on her end, but at least she could stomach that rather than the barbaric bludgeoning the other instruments required.

Avery didn't bother to cut off the ropes on her wrists and ankles, opting to not waste any further time in the room. Hastily, she jogged to the back-corner door, where Hudson was restrained, and left the storage cage. As much as she would have liked to pursue John and Hudson, she wasn't stupid. She needed something more than a scalpel to attempt that escapade.

The sight of a metal staircase descending beneath the concrete floor was a welcoming view, and she eagerly made her way towards it. Just as her hand gripped the railing and her foot took the first step towards her descend, she found herself face to face with another person coming up. Initially, she thought that her fight for freedom was starting sooner than expected, until she realized who was standing in front of her; at which point, she froze.

The man mirrored her surprise as he stilled a few steps below.

…Shit-shit-shit… There's no way…

In the span of only three seconds, so many things rushed through her mind.

Just four steps lower, the styled red hair and scarred face scrutinized her with his left hand holding the same railing. He wore a different outfit than she seen before; this time a dark grey button up with rolled sleeves, opened to reveal a plain olive-green t-shirt. Dark denim jeans swallowed the upper portion of his military boots and in his right hand was a file of papers. On his right thigh, she saw the leather sheath holding the large bowie knife. No gun was visible, but she wasn't confident to say one wasn't hiding beneath the button up.

Avery tried to decide her next move, knowing that getting past him would be no easy task, and she had no interest in battling it out on the metal staircase. Hell, she didn't even know if she could outmatch him in a fight.

When his attention drifted to the shiny scalpel in her left hand, she knew she was in trouble.

A flicker of realization appeared momentarily before hiding behind a dangerous look. Avery unconsciously brought her foot back to the landing and began to back away as Jacob advanced in a methodical pace.

His steps were carefully controlled and measured as he stalked towards her retreating form. It was only a few seconds later when Avery realized she was back in the room and Jacob slid the metal door shut behind him.

She made a mental note that he didn't bother to lock it; although she wasn't sure if that was because he was confident she wouldn't make it past him, or just an oversight. She doubted it was the latter.

"So," he started with nothing but amusement in his tone. He set down the folder against the concrete wall, keeping his icy gaze on her. "I see my little brother is running you off already."

"Have you met him?" she bit out.

Jacob regarded her thoughtfully.

"He is… an acquired taste," he began after a pause. "John means well but he can be intense sometimes."

Intense was putting it mildly, she mused.

If she wanted to escape, she needed to figure out her next move quickly-despite a part of her feeling it was a useless effort at this point.

There was a moment of silence between them as Avery watched him with suspicion and he took in her appearance. The front of her torn shirt left her feeling exposed, but at least it didn't reveal much more than her cleavage and upper bra. She tried not to think about it though, as she didn't have the luxury to worry about modesty.

What troubled Avery was Jacob's reaction to her escape. He wasn't angry or attempting to disarm her. Instead, the calm and controlled demeanor made it more difficult to get a read on the man, whom she knew little about. Trying to wrack her brain for any information about the soldier, she realized she knew virtually nothing.

From what Dutch, Jerome, and Tracey had said, Jacob was to be avoided at all costs. Dutch even said that Pratt was a lost cause and to forget about retrieving him.

The violence and mind games were Jacob's specialty, and no one was able to outmatch him. A monster born of war and bloodshed, he lived for the hunt.

Avery tried to remember those words as she watched the docile nature of the man before her, the wolf in sheep's clothing.

She gripped her blade a little tighter and didn't miss how his attention returned to the ridiculous scalpel in her hand again.

"Interesting choice of a weapon. Are you planning to poke your way out of here?" His tone was light and almost teasing, but the gleam in his eyes was cold.

Avery tried to feign confidence, though she was feeling anything but. "I'm considering it, yes."

The soldier didn't seem put off by her admission and looked around the room indifferently before retuning his attention to her. He even had the audacity to put his hands in his pockets.

Avery narrowed her eyes at the movement. He either doubted she would attack him or was confident in his ability to counter anything she sent his way. It was insulting to her.

"Mm. I propose we play a little game." When he didn't get a response besides a glare, Jacob continued. "A knife fight for first blood. If you can cut me, I personally will not interfere with your escape attempt."

The way he added 'attempt' caused her to bristle, as if implying she wouldn't be successful. Like a parent humoring their naïve child. It seemed like a sick reminder of their first interaction at the church, and now she was starkly aware of her pride.

Damn you, John.

"And how do I know you aren't lying and will try to stop me?" she questioned, pushing away her annoyance.

Jacob didn't break eye contact. "You don't."

The proposal was odd, although it was something that Avery couldn't pass up. Whether he was lying or not, the chance of him keeping his word was the best outcome for her escape.

He knew it, too.

That was why he was so casual before her now. If Avery didn't take the chance on the game, then civility would be off the table and she would find herself in a real fight. Or she could play, hopefully win, and escape with a mob of peggies opposing her.

OR, a third option, she could admit defeat now and save herself the embarrassment and energy.

A wry smirk curled her lips. John would not be pleased to hear that she refused to swallow her pride, again, in order to surrender. She would take her chances with the game.

"And if you win?" she asked, though they both knew she had already made her decision.

A cunning grin answered her. "Then you will sit back in that chair and cooperate the rest of the night."

She didn't like it, but it was the best she could hope for. "Alright, I agree to those terms. First blood."

Avery hesitated a moment before lunging for him with the scalpel. He danced back, with his hands removed from their pocket, and deflected her attack.

Separating from each other, Avery took this time to regroup. She was having an off night between the capture, pounding head, and not knowing much about her current opponent. The knack of learning about a new rival's skills through a match was a weakness of hers, usually leading a decent beating before she found a chink in their armor.

Sadly, she couldn't afford to get injured or else the game would be lost.

Sizing him up, she took mental notes to gauge the advantages and disadvantages. Jacob was an Airborne Ranger with training and years of experience that far outmatched her own. Judging by his muscular form, it was safe to say he didn't skip training or workouts. Physically and skill wise, she was at a disadvantage.

Realizing she would need to rely on wit and leverage, Avery tried to recall any lessons that would aid her now. She regretted all the times she skipped out on the knife sparring with her team. If an enemy ever was that close to her, she had a canine as a weapon, never needing the crude instrument. Though, from what she remembered, the movements were similar to hand-to-hand combat and the blade was only an extension of herself.

She didn't have much hope in winning the game of blood, but she had an idea of how to try.

With that, she entered into a deadly dance with the soldier as she slashed and jabbed. Jacob was faster than his build hinted to, and he moved surprisingly graceful on his feet. Seeing the ease in his movements only fueled her frustration when hers were sloppy in comparison. After a few more offensive maneuvers, she could feel the rust shaking off from months of no practice.

It didn't take long for her to realize that he was only blocking or redirecting her attacks. The fact that he hadn't attempted to remove his own knife troubled her and she wondered if her attacks really were pitiful.

Deciding to force a reaction from the soldier, Avery shifted her weight around with a swift step forward to crowd him. She was close enough to feel the brush of his shirt on her upper arm as she swept the scalpel towards his thigh. Before the steel made contact, a calloused hand gripped her wrist and redirected her momentum away. The motion was forceful and quick, causing her to stumble into the cement wall with a wince.

Gritting her teeth, she spun around to see him a few paces away, watching her with an intensity that unnerved her. It reminded her of a restrained predator toying with its meal before it dealt the final blow.

Maybe provoking him wasn't the best idea.

"Not too bad," he commented. "A little predictable, but not bad overall."

"Stop playing around and fight," she demanded levelly.

Cold amusement twisted before her. "You forget this is not only a game but a challenge. If you can't earn my blood than you're more than welcome to take a seat."

Avery clenched her fists harder at her side, feeling the steel of the scalpel dig into her palm. "You're an egotistical asshole."

A dark glare pinned her, and she thought she felt the temperature drop.

"Watch your tone. I'm being nice offering you this game," he warned, though she heard the underlying threat.

The deputy didn't say anything more, realizing how far his calm demeanor went. If she didn't finish this soon, John would return, and all of it would be a waste. It was laughable to think that John would agree to the terms of continuing this 'game'.

Fortunately, she did have one maneuver left that could give her the desired outcome. It was complicated and didn't allow much room for error, but it would be unpredictable…

Pushing off the wall, she walked back to stand in front of Jacob. His stance was no longer facing her head on, but at an angle, with one foot behind the other. His arms were by his side, and although, he seemed relax, his posture told her the past attacks were closer to their mark than he let on.

The little observation gave her the confidence she needed to attempt her next move.

Launching forward, she introduced a few punches and swings that he countered as before. She hadn't expected much else and was using the momentum to set up her attack.

Jacob was easily deflecting what came within reach, but her speed was picking up, causing the distance to become smaller before he managed his blocks. The momentum forced his footwork to quicken as she pushed him back with her attacks. The fierceness of her strikes caught him off guard enough for him to decide to return a couple counterattacks.

Surprisingly, she managed to block his punches, but the offensive maneuvers clearly startled her. His right fist connected with her shoulder and he followed by sweeping his left leg out behind her ankles. The force pushed her back, but at the last moment, she rolled from his impact and stumbled in a sloppy twist before catching her balance; only falling to her knees for the barest of seconds. Straightening, she brushed her disheveled shirt back down and glared at him.

Jacob opened his mouth to comment but she didn't waste time crowding him once more. Stepping back, he arched away from the scalpel that aimed for his chest and elbowed her arm away.

Avery flipped the scalpel between her fingers, so the blade was towards the outside of her hand and by her pinky. She took a solid step into Jacob's space with a spin and brought her right arm up just above her head and swung it in a downward diagonal towards his right shoulder.

The power behind her swing stopped in mid-air as his hand enveloped her wrist. Their gazes met, one with hungry determination, the other with amused examination. The split second was fleeting when Avery released the scalpel from her grip.

The surgical steel fell in silence between them before her left hand captured it. In a continued motion, she thrust the scalpel under her trapped arm in a horizontal swing aimed for the soldier's abdomen.

By the time Jacob realized what was happening, he was scrambling to avoid the blade at the last moment. Arching his body away while releasing her wrist, the sound of tearing fabric broke the silence around them.

Once the distance separated them, Jacob set a hand to his stomach where she had managed to catch him off guard. Avery watched with a feeling of triumph beginning to swell. She was thankful that she didn't embarrass herself by dropping the blade. But did her attack work?

Jacob recollected himself and removed his hand from his stomach. A chuckle left him, deep and smooth, as he raised his palm in the air for Avery to see.

"Not quite enough."

Avery zeroed in on the unblemished hand and back to his sliced shirt. The fabric was sliced smoothly across with no fraying, but she had missed breaking his skin. The deputy felt her heart drop at the realization, and it was all she could do to not throw the absurd scalpel across the room. If only the blade was a little longer…

The smug hilarity never faltered from Jacob. "I'm impressed, Mason. You damn near gutted me with that little stunt."

"It's a regret I'll have to live with," she replied flatly, trying to hide how much it bothered her.

Disheartened, Avery contemplated if she should just call it quits or continue the game between them. The thought of defeat left a bitter taste in her mouth that she instantly loathed.

No. If he wanted to win, she wasn't going to do it for him. He had to earn her blood just as much as she had to earn his.

The cursed man hadn't even drawn his weapon once!

Realizing that the odds of winning were non-existent, she focused on making the fight harder for him to resist wielding his knife. At least with this plan, she wouldn't have to worry so much about her defenses. She was confident they wouldn't kill her. The Project invested too many resources in her to atone and see their reasoning. Jacob's little game was further proof that they didn't want to kill her.

Both veterans stepped back into their stance, observing the other in hopes to read the next move made. Throughout their sparring, it had been Avery who initiated the fight and she assumed it was because he didn't have a deadline. Now that she thought about it, was he stalling until John returned?

A part of her figured it was likely, however she didn't think he would need his brother to help restrain her. No. It was most likely Jacob just playing with her.

Once again, Avery advanced toward him, this time throwing self-preservation out the window. The ferocity caught Jacob off guard, but he recovered in expert fashion, delivering his own blows to her side. The hits were restrained, though still caused her to wince. This only reinforced her theory that they were not trying to kill her, despite knowing there would be some grotesque bruises the next day.

Bringing the scalpel towards his chest, he caught her arm and she kneed him in the thigh. The next hit he landed on her side had more bite to it in retaliation. Avery stumbled away with clenched teeth to kill the cry from escaping. Looking back, she was alarmed to see Jacob stepping to her in his first true offensive attack.

Instinct kicked in, and Avery spun away, missing a swing sent her way. He closed the distance easily, but she countered, hoping to delay another attack from him. The punch she sent to his chest was easy for him to roll away from, shifting his weight around so her back was exposed. A knee found its way into the small of her back, but Avery used her hand with the scalpel to try to catch any part of him near enough.

The blade only met air, but the distance was smaller than she thought. Transitioning her tool to the left hand, she swung again, knowing that there was less time for him to counter.

Jacob didn't have a chance to block her properly due how close the blade was. Instead he redirected her energy with a complex maneuver that included his own attack at the last moment.

Avery's eyes widened as her strike lost its direction and power. She faltered before reaching the wall and spun on her heels to face him.

The soldier was breathing a little deeper, but she was panting. Sweat beaded across her brow as she tried to catch her breath and understand what happened. The last few attacks had been a blur to her, and Jacob's latest trick had left her confused. Trying to make sense of it all, she noticed the change in his stance.

He was facing her now, with one hand on his hip and the other resting on the walnut handle of his knife. What caught her eye was the splatter of blood on the edge of the grey fabric.

Tickling drew her attention to her left hand where scarlet liquid streamed to the knuckles of her fingers before dripping to the floor. The rich blood seeped from a four-inch gash across her bicep and the heavy metallic scent hit her nose.

His speed was alarming. During the frenzied skirmish, she didn't even see him remove his knife, much less put it back.

"First blood is mine," he said smoothly, his breathing returning to normal. "But I'm impressed. Your skills are better than most. Even caught me off guard a couple times."

Avery locked eyes with him but couldn't bring herself to answer. Though she knew this was a likely outcome, she didn't expect that defeat would be so sour.

The pain in her arm was quickly coming to life as her adrenaline lessened.

"Now, are you going to keep your word, or will this continue?" The threat was clear. It wouldn't play out well for her if she broke the rules.

But Avery's pride was still strong, and she didn't like the idea of staying there with the Seed brothers any longer.

Before she could respond or decide her next actions, the deputy was hit by a solid force from behind which forced her up against the cold wall.

Pain from the laceration ignited up her shoulder and neck as her arm was forcefully pulled to the small of her back. The scalpel blade jerked from her sweaty palm and Avery gritted her teeth, not appreciating the body that trapped her to the wall.

Opening her eyes, she glared over her shoulder, but the intensity lessened at the sight of a very annoyed John. Any smart comment she had died in her throat now that both brothers were here.

She was done.

John brought the scalpel up between their faces so she could see. The look he fixed her with was a few decimals short of unhinged anger.

"Don't you know it's rude to play with toys that don't belong to you?" The falsely sweet voice didn't match his narrowed eyes. "Am I to teach you manners on top of having you confess?"

His attention dropped to the wound and blood that blighted his own pale skin. Not bothered by the crimson fluid, he set his right hand on her shoulder while the other held her wrist in place. Pulling her from the wall, he guided the deputy to the wooden remains of the former chair.

Jacob was already dragging another from the wall, this one an old metal conference chair that looked uncomfortable.

John stopped Avery as he watched his older brother, clearly irate. "Is starting a fight something you do on impulse or are you able to control the urge?"

Jacob kicked the wooden pieces away and set the metal chair down. "Relax, it was just a game."

John all but shoved Avery into the chair. She sat quietly as he reached for some zip ties and started to bind her to the arms and legs of the chair, pushing the rope bracelets out of the way. Avery was in no hurry to call their attention onto her, so she sat patiently.

"Don't tell me to relax. You can't be bringing your trials here when I'm having my sinners confess. You have your own playthings in your region if you can't contain yourself." A zip tie around her ankle zipped until it couldn't anymore, pinching her skin and cutting her circulation.

A hiss escaped her from the sharp pain it caused. John's glare landed on her, but he didn't say anything.

Realizing he was waiting expectantly, she explained, "It's too tight."

Not offering a response, John used the scalpel to cut the zip tie, careful not to nick her skin, before using a new one in its place. Avery wasn't sure if he did it to ease her discomfort or because she was cooperating. Either way, she was grateful.

Jacob continued his explanation, not really showing he was bothered by his brother's ill feelings. "She made the choice to play the game. No one forced her. If you prefer it next time, I'll just let her escape."

John's attention landed on her again, causing Avery to mentally curse Jacob for ratting her out. Not like she expected him to exercise discretion, but still.

"I thought we were making progress, dear," John drawled in that false voice again. "Do I need to bring Hudson back out?"

Avery was about to answer but Jacob beat her to it.

"Shouldn't have a need for it. She lost the game." Jacob's icy gaze pinned her. "Unless your word means nothing."

His meaning hit her harder than she expected. She lost the game which meant she had to cooperate with them for the night. She could easily say screw it and refuse, but she valued her word. Not to mention that was her pride talking again and John would have a field day with that. More importantly, it would bring Joey back into the room where she would be tortured in front of Avery.

Best not to make it worse for her. She'll behave, but that didn't mean she had to be fully upfront with everything.

Her secrets were still hers.

"Unfortunately, my word it good." She glared but Jacob remained unphased. "Is yours?"

Confused, John looked to Jacob.

"I guess you won't find out," the soldier answered smoothly. The grin on his face all but mocked her.

"And what word is that? Are you making promises that could ruin my confession?" John questioned as he finished the last tie and stood up.

"Not at all."

"Why do I not believe you?"

Jacob sighed, finding John's annoyance dampening his mood. "You would have that answer, not me.."

"These smartass comments of yours are not cute, brother. I know you get enjoyment from fights, but you are overstepping your role."

Avery tuned their bickering out as she shifted in the uncomfortable seat. Now that her adrenaline faded, the ache of her bicep deepened, and she felt the pins and needles reach her fingers. The exhaustion settled into her bones and there was a new weariness to her that wasn't there before. It was as if the blood trickling from the wound was taking her energy as well.

Looking to her lap, she tried to push the debilitating feelings down, but anxiety and disappointment still bubbled under her skin. The throbbing of her head had increased after the fight and she could feel a migraine pulsating at her temple. Any strength she had left were just reserves that she hoped would last through the night.

There was no way of telling how late it was now or how long she was unconscious. If she had to guess she would say it was 10 or 11pm. Maybe later. But she didn't think she was knocked out for that long after the hostage retrieval.

"Is that her work on your shirt?" John's voice broke through to her again. Her attention turned to Jacob's abdomen where the scalpel had sliced through. A bitter reminder of how close she was.

"Yeah it is." Jacob was walking back from the wall with the file of papers in hand. "A longer blade and it may have gutted me."

"Hm," John looked thoughtful. "Too bad it didn't. Would have served you right."

Jacob only smirked, unaffected by the waspish comments.

John approached the rolling cart beside her and turned on the tattoo gun. Avery watched him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. Across from her, Jacob set the file down on the workbench while leaning against the wooden edge.

"Where did we leave off, dear? Pride, was it?" John's previous aggravation seemed to recede after his quarrel with Jacob, replaced by a cheerful smile.

Oh, that's right… I'm about to be tortured. Of course, he would be happy.

"Sounds about right," she answered sarcastically.

John's smooth hand tilted her right forearm over as much as the ziptie would allow. Confusion knitted her brows together, and before she could mentally prepare herself, he began to carve into the meat of her arm. The buzzing of the tattoo gun instantly became one she disliked. Having a couple tattoos herself, she never minded it before, but the pain was searing as the needles ripped the layers of flesh.

"Ah! Fuck!" she cried out. She closed her eyes to separate herself from the pain, but it didn't work.

"Pride is a troublesome habit to rid oneself of," he began, ignoring her anguish. "You, dear, suffer from its hold, thus it will be a hard lesson to learn… The more you sin, the more I will retrace this, do you understand?"

"Fucking hell!" Avery cursed as he went over the 'i' again, and he chuckled.

"Don't let this discourage you from confessing other wrong-doings or it'll be worse for you. Of course, I don't mind either way. I like a challenge." John seemed blissful as he started on the final letter near the crook of her elbow

The pain was only getting worse as it hit the nerves. Blood seeped from the carvings and onto the arm of the chair. On the bright side, it took her attention away from the laceration on her left arm.

Once he finished, he lifted the gun away and stepped back to admire the work.

"Beautiful. I did go a deeper than usual because you repeated your sin tonight, but hopefully this will serve as a reminder for you. Oh, don't look at me like that. You should be more upset over that cut from Jacob. At least mine serves a purpose."

Avery looked at her arm, feeling mortified at the wound that she would never be rid of now. Her hand shook and fingers twitched uncontrollably from the stressed nerve fibers. A shudder rushed through her body; her brain trying to make sense of the injuries inflicted. There was no more adrenaline for her to rely on to dull the pain. Just the agony and dread for what was to come.

"So that's it… You plan to just carve the seven sins on me. Why drag it out? Just do it already and be done with it." The brunette was by no means wanting to sit through another carving session, but she didn't want to wait all night for it either.

John shrugged one shoulder. "I could, but that would defeat the purpose. You are to confess, meaning you admit your wrongdoings and be punished for them. This is not merely a torture session as you believe."

"Could have fooled me." Prick.

"You are not paying attention," he said simply while setting the machine down on the table.

Avery took the time to glance at Jacob who watched the interaction as if it were completely normal. She wasn't surprised by this but wondered if his 'trials' were similar or worse.

"Tell me what other transgressions you have," John continued, bringing her attention back to him.

Narrowing her eyes, and still bitter over his carvings on her, she replied mockingly, "I cheated on my 3rd grade spelling test."

"Mh-hmm. Cute…. In case it wasn't clear to you, if you keep delaying, I will retrieve your friend, and you won't like what I do to her," he threatened but was unusually calm. As if this was exactly what he expected from her.

"Like you actually care about what I did in my past. This is a joke."

John frowned at her remark and stepped closer.

"You have been drinking the sinner's Kool-Aid for too long," he refuted while glaring down his nose at her. "You think you are playing the role of some savior but it's time to wake up. This is not a joke-it is the will of the Father. It's something bigger than this little valley, yet you choose to turn a blind eye to the end that awaits us. You, Avery, have a role in this, and we are here to give you sight. But you must atone for the sins your soul has committed. There will be no foxes entering our haven when the Collapse begins."

"You believe this." She looked between the brothers and drew her bottom lip between her teeth before continuing. "You really believe what Joseph says. I don't understand why. There's always been end of the world forecasts. Ever since the Mayans and yet nothing happens! What makes you believe so much that your brother would be different? Just because he's your blood or because of some dream he had? I don't get it."

"Our brother has spoken to God. It was not a dream. Why is it that you think the resistant scum would know better than that? They say they believe in God but not a prophet? Seems a little hypocritical if you ask me," John continued, growing annoyed.

Avery stayed silent, not getting an answer, but not having one to give either.

"I don't expect you to understand right now. You are looking from surface of a frozen lake, frosted over and hiding the life that is beneath. For now, we focus on your confessions and perhaps I will explain it more to you later." He glanced at his brother who began to wipe his bowie knife clean with a rag from the work bench.

Avery followed his gaze, seeing the intimidating blade that had injured her arm. Looking at it now, she was grateful Jacob hadn't been serious in his fight against her. It was almost laughable that she agreed to his challenge in the first place with her pathetic scalpel.

"So, Deputy, please describe some of your indiscretions. Do you have any little green beasts inside like your friend?"

She remembered that John had called Joey his 'little envy'. Jealousy was not a stranger to Avery, but it wasn't nearly as common as her pride.

"I haven't had much reason to be envious of anything. I grew up in a good home that taught me to work for things I wanted. Hard work could get me whatever I needed in life."

"Well that's boring. No jealousy over your lover's attention or someone getting better treatment?"

Avery scoffed. "Not many 'lovers' in my life. I focused on work and school. So, I guess that means you can rule out lust while you're at it."

"No lovers? Really? You're an attractive girl. Does that mean you have never—"

"Nope-I'm not having this discussion," Avery redirected, feeling a blush form at his implication. "I said I didn't have many. Not that I plead abstinence. Leave it at that."

"Ah, just modest," he replied with a lopsided smile, almost teasing. "I was getting concerned. It would be a crime not to indulge a little in the flesh."

"…What?" Avery questioned, clearly confused. "Aren't you supposed to believe that sex before marriage is a sin? Why would you encourage relations otherwise?"

John only laughed. "We are following a prophet. The Lord knows we are a race of sinners and are not perfect. The seven sins, however, are what he wishes us to focus on. Not any of the other guidelines he set forth previously."

"Sounds to me, you are choosing pieces that you want to follow, while ignoring those that you don't."

"To you, perhaps. But you are looking through frosted glass," he reminded. "So, you had a relatively good childhood. What about after you moved out? Tell us about that."

Avery chose her words carefully, not wanting to reveal anything that would cause her more harm. "I wanted to be a police officer. I got training and entered the force. From there I focused on pushing myself to be as good as I could be."

Across from them, Jacob replaced his blade it is sheath. He heard the fabrication in her response, proving that she indeed had something to hide. If she didn't, she would have admitted to joining the military.

"Where did you attend the training at?" John questioned, very much aware of her storytelling.

"San Francisco," she answered calmly.

John contemplated it for a moment. "Jacob, is there a base in San Francisco?"

"No there is not. Perhaps she meant San Antonio."

"Texas? Surely she wouldn't get confused about which state she was trained in…"

Realization hit her like a bucket of ice water. They knew about the military… Shit. Avery felt like she was going to be sick.

Lying was going to be that much harder and likely get her in trouble if she pushed her odds. But how had they found out?

"You want to try that again?" Jacob questioned calmly from the workbench.

Avery didn't answer, still trying to understand how she continued to underestimate these two.

"She seems a little surprised. Please tell me you didn't think we wouldn't figure it out. I will admit, we did have a little help from your co-worker," John continued.

This pulled Avery's attention back to the brothers. Did Hudson tell them she was in the military? It was possible, but she hoped that wasn't the case. "You're just trying to mess with my head. They wouldn't have said anything to you."

John chuckled but it was Jacob that answered.

"Sang like a bird, actually."

The sting of betrayal returned, just like the night she found Nancy had set them up. As much as she wanted to yell that Jacob was lying, she couldn't help but believe him. That brought back the question of how much did they know?

"How many people have you killed, dear?" John smiled sweetly at her. "You took a special assignment for a few years, so it wasn't 'upholding the peace' that you were doing. How many lives were snuffed out by your hand?"

Yup, she was going to be sick. She could all but feel the blood drain from her face and any defiant remarks die in her throat.

Stay calm. Just stay calm… She took a slow breath to lessen the panic she felt spread. Answer the questions and nothing more. You have not lost control of this yet.

Avery opened her mouth to answer but opted for another deep breath before committing. "I don't know how many."

Jacob scoffed, drawing her attention. Glaring, she demanded, "You think I'm lying?"

"I do," he answered easily. "As much as I would prefer it, you don't strike me as the type to kill callously. No, you seem more like the type to keep count and after the battle, you have a pity party over the lives you took." He paused with an expectant expression and crossed arms. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Clenching her jaw, she dropped her gaze to her lap.

"You're not… not exactly." Avery released a sigh and looked back to the brothers before explaining. "I counted 8 in the first year and then I stopped. I realized that all I was doing was humanizing the enemy that wanted nothing more than to kill us. Counting them only caused me to hesitate, putting myself, my team, and the mission at risk…. I stopped after that."

"So, you can see reason," Jacob noted.

"Meaning what exactly?" she questioned defensively.

"Meaning you are smarter than most and more adept."

The compliment caught her off guard, but she didn't speak on it further.

"Do you know," John interjected, "how many of your fellow Americans you have killed?" When she didn't answer, he provided the number. "22. Now, I don't know what your other numbers are but so far that leads to 30 deaths by your hand. Granted, most were Faith's Angels so I wouldn't hold too much weight in that. How does that little realization feel?"

"…I-I'm trying to get my team back and what I did was in self-defense. If I didn't kill them, then it would have been me."

"Yeah, that's a lie if I ever heard one." Avery glared at John, but he only matched it. "You have been busy doing errands for the sinners, not rescuing your co-workers. These little supply runs and burning of property did nothing for your team, did it? And I haven't forgotten about my sign either… Not to mention, you openly attacked and killed my men in the railyard the other day. Unprovoked, I might add. And yet you say this was all in self-defense and to get Hudson? Ha! Now that's a joke."

She didn't reply, hating the truth that saturated in his words. He was right.

Somehow, in the last couple weeks, she had lost herself down the rabbit hole and became distracted. There was no reason for it to take this long if she remained focus on her task. Instead, she became so caught up in the dispute between the two sides that she began to openly oppose the Project.

This had gotten out of hand. She didn't want this. How had she not realized it sooner?

And the deaths? What she had once deemed necessary now seemed trivial at best.

The thought of Liam and his uncle entered her mind and she could feel shame clawing at her.

"What? Nothing to say?" John inferred.

"…What do you want me to say? You already know you're right about me. There, I said it. Does that appease your ego?" she snapped, finding it an outlet for the swirling emotions.

"Don't get snarky. I'm merely showing you what you don't see."

"…"

John clicked his tongue on his teeth and looked to Jacob. "Does that have the rest of the information?"

Jacob tore his gaze from the deputy to address his brother. "As far as I could tell, it should be the rest of it."

Avery's attention bounced between the brothers, searching for a clue to what they were discussing. It was clear they were talking about the papers, but she wasn't certain what information they held. John stepped beside Jacob and grabbed the thick file. Meanwhile, the soldier took this time to question her further, keeping her mind elsewhere while John skimmed.

"What exactly was your special assignment?"

"I was selected to be an add-on for a tactical unit. The team was small but would do mainly ground missions. They needed a K9 handler to keep the members from running into any explosives." She resigned to telling them what they wanted to hear. As long as the one topic didn't come up, she would be fine.

"How big was your team?"

"Six. Eight if you include myself and my dog."

"And your dog's name?"

Avery hesitated. She wasn't sure why he was asking these questions. Perhaps, mild curiosity, one fellow veteran to another. Or maybe there was ulterior motive behind it. "Tango."

He smirked at that, recognizing it from the phonetic alphabet. "How many missions in the unit did you complete?"

"I don't remember…. Maybe 20 or so."

"And what type of missions were they?"

"Some extraction, escorting other units, an assassination or two, calling in airstrikes for Army or Marine teams. I had a few explosive tasks with outside units whenever they needed a K9 handler."

"Sounds to me you were a valuable resource and according to your records, you served a little over 8 years. So, why were you discharged?"

Avery's heart dropped. She should have known the question would come up-she should have had some answer ready for it.

The question was '…why were you discharged?', not 'why did you leave?'. As she replayed his query in her head, it was obviously he knew she was forced to leave rather than reaching the end of her contract.

And just like that, the conversation jumped from her grasp and settled right where she wanted to avoid. Now, she had a couple options left.

Firstly, she could stay silent and take the torture that would come. But if they brought Hudson back, she wasn't sure if she could hold her resolve.

On the other hand, she could try to redirect the topic away while still answering his question. He was clever, so she would have to be delicate about it or else it would backfire.

Another possibility was one she hoped wasn't true. If she had an ounce of luck left, then the file that John was reading was not about her missions. The same missions with the answers the brothers looked to unearth.

But the voice in her head whispered, don't be stupid, that's exactly what John has.

"… I er, I made some mistakes. Enough of them which made them not bother with me anymore. I had forgotten most of my police training and they didn't want to spend money for me to get remedial schooling. It was the next best choice…"

"What kind of mistakes?"

Do they know? No-no-no. Stay calm, just think of something. Its fine. Its fine. You're just jumping to conclusions. Stay calm and think of an answer. Just talk about mistakes. Just come up with something. Anything.

"What kind of mistakes?" Jacob repeated sternly.

"…Mistakes…," Avery echoed as she tried to fight the horrid images from leaving their locked cage. "I…I hesitated on taking a target out… it almost cost a friend's life and ruin the assignment."

The excuse was weak. There was no way he would buy it.

"Does it have anything to do with your last mission?" Jacob questioned, watching as the brunette began to shake uncontrollably in her chair. She stared at the floor between them unblinkingly as if not fully aware of what she was saying.

"My…" she shook her head, hair sweeping across her face and sticking to the sweat that glistened on her temple. "I wasn't cut out for the assignment. I should have stayed as an MP. It was all a mistake."

Jacob opened his mouth to get her attention back on the question she was avoiding but John cleared his throat beside him.

"Says here," the Baptist began, "that you had a trial after your last mission with an investigation into a war crime. And look-y here." He plucked out a stack of papers held with a black plastic clip. "This is the assignment that did it."

Avery's attention never left the cold floor below her feet, but the words still reached her ears. She felt like she was having a heart attack; her breathing was labored, and palms were sticky. Color seemed to drain from her face and a weight settled in her chest cavity that squeezed the air from her lungs. She felt like her heart would burst under the weight at any minute. She couldn't think anything past the fear, just that she might die in some metal chair alone.

The brothers watched as the deputy began to fall apart before them. Jacob had seen many panic attacks over his years at war and knew it was not an easy task to soothe someone back to reality. Simply telling someone to calm down and soft words wouldn't do. He needed to divert her brain to focus on something else than what was causing the distress.

Jacob kneeled in front of Avery, though she just stared through him as if he wasn't there. He set a hand on her shaking knee to see if she would react, but she didn't.

"Avery. Look at me," he ordered firmly. Not getting a response, he squeezed her leg enough that he was sure to leave bruises from his fingertips. The action drew her gaze to his and her labored breathing continued. She was listening at least. "Breath slowly. Deep and slow."

He repeated himself again until she started to follow his directions. "Slow breaths. Breathe in, hold for a second, then exhale." The rise and fall of her chest matched his instructions though were in jerking movements. "Good, now make a fist."

Avery's attention turned to her bound wrists where she pried her fingers from the arms of the chair. "I'm shaking…"

"Yeah, but that's fine. Perfectly normal. Now, release your fist and make it again. Keep breathing deeply. In." He performed an inward motion with his free hand. "Breathe out."

After a couple more times, Avery felt control return to her. There was a lingering disorientation as she looked to see a serious John watching, file forgotten in his hand. Jacob still was in front of her with his hand on her knee, no longer gripping tightly. She was still shaking and felt pathetic in front of them.

Weak and stupid.

She didn't know exactly what happened for her to lose control, but humiliation and shame caused tears to sting her eyes. All the woman wanted to do was yell at them to leave her alone and not look at her. She didn't need Jacob's help! How dare he pretend to care!

But she refused to cry. Yelling at them now would break the last string of her control and she would undoubtedly turn to a hysteric mess. The lump in her throat and a couple stray tears were not enough for her to hide, but she kept the firm grasp on her lifeline of control.

Jacob narrowed his eyes when a few tears trickled down her cheeks. He waited to see if she would turn into a sobbing wreck but was pleased to see she maintained her composure and dignity in front of them. He wouldn't hold a couple loose tears against her, however if she began to bawl, there was no sympathy she would gain from him. At least she was proving to be strong enough to recover from the incident, confirming she was of use to him still.

"Do you usually have panic attacks?" Jacob inquired sternly.

"Panic…? I don't have panic attacks," she baulked. She shook her head as an afterthought, as if it would convince him.

Jacob tilted his head back as he studied her with his icy gaze. "I have been around my share of panic attacks. That was definitely one of them."

After pausing to see if she would say anything, he stood up and walked to the wall with the chairs.

Avery wasn't sure if what she experienced was a panic attack or just her having a freak-out session… Then again, wasn't that the same thing? One was a clinical diagnosis and the other was her own title for it.

And why had he helped her? She didn't ask for it! It was stupid to have a 'fit' in front of them and lose her self-control to these debilitating emotions. Now they probably thought she was some joke. Some little rookie too weak to stand up to the Project. Just a little nuisance needing to be squashed.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she mentally berated. You're good to go. Stop crying.

As much as she loathed Jacob in that moment, she followed his instructions and took her deep breaths. Occasionally clenching and unclenching her fists, she realized that her shaking was slowly subsiding. Exhaustion weighed on her bones and she felt physically depleted.

Jacob returned to her line of sight and set a wooden chair down about 10 feet away with the back facing her. He straddled it and leaned his arms over the top.

John had returned to reading the stack of clipped papers with the remaining on the workbench behind him. It was then that Avery remembered that her worst memories were now in the hands of the men that wanted to exploit them.

"What do you want?" she asked bleakly. The sound was cold resignation to everyone in the room.

"Tell us about the mission. What did you do on it that made you go to court and get a general discharge?" John explained, as he peered at her for an answer.

The soldier in front of her picked at a splinter that had poked his forearm but remained silent.

Avery set her mouth in a hard line, clenching and unclenching her fists. Exhaustion made it impossible to think her way off the topic and part of her felt like it was pointless to try.

John only shrugged at her not answering. "That's fine. I'll just read it out loud."

"What are you looking to get from this? You think it was just one mission that caused my discharge?" she responded, hoping that maybe a bluff would post-pone the inevitable.

"I think I skimmed enough of the other assignments to know that there isn't anything significant," John countered steadily. His composure showed that he was pleased with the events of the evening. "18th of June, your unit was stationed at an FOB in Afghanistan." Looking up, he asked Jacob. "What's an FOB?"

"Forward Operating Base. An unofficial military position to conduct operations in a strategic location," the soldier answered easily, eyes locked on Avery.

"So different than a usual base?"

"Yes, smaller and less personnel."

John scratched his beard before continuing. "Alright, from there, Mason's team were to take out a high-profile target that the military had been tracking for a year. You and your team were in position at the village two days prior until the target arrived with his escorts-"

"Ok-ok-ok… just wait. Just-," Avery's fingers were splayed out in a sign of surrender and she took a shaky breath.

John peeked over the file in hand and raised a brow. "No matter what you say, we're going to go over this, dear. Just sit back and listen to the story."

"Wait! Just wait," she demanded, this time with more desperation. "Hold on."

The younger brother rolled his eyes, growing impatient at her interruptions. "I told you this would be a painful process. You delaying it is only making it worse. But here I am, trying to make it quick—like ripping off a band aid." John smirked as his own little jest and Avery knew they wouldn't be persuaded from continuing. "Just sit quietly like a good girl while I read your sins, alright?

She had already lived through the mission once, she had no desire to do it again. Avery glanced to the soldier across from her and tried the last thing she could think of.

"Jacob… please." His eyes met hers and he tilted his head, showing he was listening. "Even you have to agree that somethings are better left in the past. I'm asking you not to read that mission… I-I'll explain what happened, but don't read it. Please."

John narrowed his eyes and looked to his brother, hoping the eldest wouldn't buckle under her plea.

"It's not his decision to make," John explained coldly though no one responded. Didn't she understand it was him in charge? Or was she trying to get the brothers to argue with each other?

Instead of replying to either person, Jacob stood from his chair and walked to stand in front of Avery. There was no fear present as she watched him approach, but the earnestness in her eyes were clear.

After a moment of both veterans observing each other, Jacob responded. "John will read the report and you will listen to what it says. Feel free to add commentary but it's going to happen."

Avery's heart dropped at the hopeless situation she was in.

"Do you want to know why?" he continued.

Avery's gaze met his and he stared back before leaning down to her ear. She felt her body stiffen as if a rod was jammed up her spine at their proximity. Nervously, her eyes shifted to John who watched with obvious irritation, but she directed her gaze to the wall across from her.

"Because it has made you weak. Look at you, never having a panic attack until now, begging me to stop John… you're a wreck." His low voice honeyed while the rough stubble brushed her cheek as he spoke. She felt her skin prickle in goosebumps from the feeling. "So, John will continue. He will rip this weakness from you, and you will either atone and join the Project, or you will join me in my region. Either way makes no difference to me. But this weakness will be culled… My plans for you will have it no other way."

The soldier leaned back so their faces were a meager foot apart. She was too afraid to open her mouth and was still picking through his words to find a meaning. After not getting a response from the deputy, he returned to the chair, ignoring John's questioning expression.

"Right," the Baptist drawled with a roll of his eyes. He made his way in front of Avery who remained quiet, fully resigned to the inevitable. "Let us continue dear.

At 19:53, your team infiltrated the building where the target resided in. You were the first to enter with your K9 and neutralized one hostile. Other members of the team, TSgt Michael and SSgt James, nullified two more escorts while Sgt Fletcher and Sgt Page killed the main target. After gathering the evidence of the successful mission, your team retreated to the building down the block, which you were previously staying in.

Over the night, it says you were the one to stand guard and watch the deceased target's home for any hostiles that would find the body prior to your extraction. In the early hours of the next morning, two Humvees arrived to escort your team back to the assigned FOB for debriefing."

"Stop! I can tell you what happened! If you read that, you aren't going to get the right story-"

"And if I listen to you, I won't get all the details. You'll use the opportunity to leave out all the information you can," John snapped back, no longer having the patience to deal with her interjections. "If I must, I will muzzle you like Hudson to keep you quiet."

Avery bit her lip hard to keep her hurricane of emotions in check. Anger, apprehension, and the urge to just scream was held back by her shut mouth and the tight grip on the arms of the chair.

Satisfied that she wouldn't continue to argue, the Baptist continued. "At 04:15, your team filled the two Humvees and headed for the FOB which was approximately 50 miles southeast of your location. It says your dog, you, Sgt Michael, and Sgt Page were in the first vehicle, while Sergeants Lowe, Fletcher, James and Garcia were in the second that followed. When passing through a neighboring village-I'm not going to attempt saying that name—Sgt Page spotted a woman waving your convoy down for help."

Avery's bottom lip was still between her teeth and she shook her head. Shutting her eyes, she remembered there was no woman waving for help and instead the team had been ambushed. The images of exploding sand, a thunderous crash of the Humvee, and high-pitched ringing in her ears caused her eyes to shoot open.

She knew that the file told a different story then what happened; the report muddled to hide the truth. It was Major Bigg's creation as a last-ditch effort to save her from a life of prison. But that never eased her conscious. Only put a heavier weight on her already guilt-ridden shoulders.

"After stopping the vehicles, yourself and Michael got out to confront the woman."

"Wait," Jacob interrupted with furrowed brows. "Your team stopped?"

Blinking, Avery met his gaze and her swirling emotions stilled. A feeling of surprise and maybe relief at his observation was a welcoming change. Of course, he would pick out the sheer foolishness such an action would be. Travelling through foreign land, vehicles traveled at a steady pace to watch for IED's and other rigged explosives laid out on the roads. Driving through villages were a nightmare because there were so many people out to get the Americans, with narrow buildings that supplied the perfect cover. Stopping at any unplanned location was not allowed under any circumstances. People waving you down? Stay alert for other enemy and ignore them. Camel in the road? Run if over. Car blockade? Go around it or through it.

"No, we didn't," she answered, thankful that he was at least willing to listen. "The woman was never waving us down and we kept driving—"

"Oh, please," John threw up his hands, one still holding the papers. "You can't be asking her these things. She's just going to lie to get out of the confession."

"Relax, I just found that hard to believe."

Avery narrowed her eyes at John who shrugged off her response. "I'm not lying! I told you that you won't get the full story in that file!"

"And you will tell me everything I want to hear? Every little dirty detail you have about these events?" His azure eyes glared darkly at her with an intensity that caused her to pause. The hesitation was mistaken as him being correct in his assumption. "I didn't think so."

"Wait-I wasn't ignoring you—"

"Enough!" he yelled as he stomped towards her, pointing the papers as he closed the distance. Reaching her, he gripped her throat and brought his face inches from her own. "You will shut up and listen as I reveal your sins! Or so help me, I will make you!" The calm demeanor was quick to contort into a raw fury, startling the deputy into silence. Once he was certain she understood, he thrust her back in the chair and released his grip.

Jacob fixed his younger brother with a warning look and John sneered at him while turning from the girl. He could clearly see the meaning behind the expression, cautioning not to stray from the path again. The Baptist didn't need a reminding, despite his brother thinking differently. He was fully in control of the situation.

John spun to face Avery again and jerked the papers out to the side, as if shaking the last of his anger off his hand. "Let's continue. You and the other guy got out to help, blah, blah, blah… Alright, here. The woman was trying to explain, waving her hands and speaking quickly in her language, not calming down when a boy, believed to be her son, came running out of the building with something in his hands. Someone across the street dropped a large plywood board onto a stack of wood, creating a gun-like bang.

Your instant reaction, deputy, was to find cover, thinking that the kid had a gun. TSgt Michael tried to reassure you that it was a misunderstanding when you panicked and shouted it was a trap."

Because it actually was! Avery mentally screamed, gripping the chair tighter despite the pain in from her wounds on each arm.

"A few of your teammates came out to help Michael calm you but you brandished your rifle and aimed it at a few men who were approaching the scene. The fear caused locals to react by drawing weapons in self-defense. The woman was screaming, and a few men came to her aid. Michael and Fletcher began to take you back to the Humvee when a gun went off… Doesn't say who shot the first round but that's when everything fell apart.

You tried to break free from your team's hold. Behind your group, Garcia was returning fire as a gunfight broke out between your unit and the local villagers. The Sergeant retreated to the second Humvee and a couple rounds missed you and the others. Unfortunately, it was believed that at this point, Sgt Page, in the first Humvee still, was killed by one of these rounds."

Pausing, John pulled out a photo of the deceased man and dropped it on the floor at her feet. The dark hair in the photo was short and fluffy from years of being shaved down. Brown eyes stared back proudly in the photo, delighted to be sitting in front of the U.S. flag in his service uniform.

Avery set her jaw and stared at the photo, feeling numb to the resignation she was forced to endure. She remembered the last time seeing Page was strapped to his seat in the upside-down Humvee, bleeding on her from a severe headwound from the crash.

"Sgt Lowe and Garcia were gunned down by a few other hostiles after they neutralized 4 locals in self-defense while retreating."

John dropped two more photos at her feet.

"You, Michael, and Fletcher used the first Humvee as cover as you returned fire. James was behind the second Humvee when the hostiles circled the back end. They caught him off guard and shot him dead, forcing the three of you to retreat to the front of your vehicle. The action resulted in Michael getting wounded in the shoulder when you three were exposed to the roadside. Forced to flee, your remaining team sought shelter in a narrow alley and your dog followed."

Avery tried to keep the images of the mangled Humvee from her mind; the memory of Michael yelling at her for help while hauled from the window. His desperation as he held onto the distorted metal before an insurgent shot his shoulder, forcing him to lose his grip and be dragged from her.

"At this point, most of the village was after the three of you. You decided to take this time to bandage Michael's wound, when a gunman on a balcony opened fired on the alley that you were hiding in. The rounds managed to kill Fletcher, forcing the team to run deeper into the village. You crossed a street when an RPG was fired at you, effectively hitting a nearby building, injuring you while killing Michael and your canine…"

John paused, taking this time to look at Avery. She sat in the chair quietly, her eyes wet with tears yet to fall. She stared blankly at the photos at her feet which he added the last four to in the order of their death, Michael and Tango on top of the others. As the images landed in her sight, the tears spilled down her pale cheeks.

"Realizing you were about to die, you picked up Michael's rifle, and with your own, opened fire on the villagers…" John skimmed a few other paragraphs between the pages before finding one he settled on. This time he read it verbatim. "In a moment of traumatic stress and lack of sleep, Sgt Mason was victim to fear and panic, killing hostiles and innocent lives. Death count 14. Under these circumstances she was not mentally sound to make the correct judgment and, as such, convicted as mentally incapable of continued military service. Medical Diagnosis is Moderate-to-Severe PTSD with mandated therapist visits until probation ends. Decision, General Discharge."

Avery stayed where she was, unflinching and staring at the floor above the photos; tracing the cracks in the concrete that splayed out like broken glass.

"14 lives. Some innocent at that," John echoed flatly, not giving any hint to what he was feeling after reading the report. "Wrath… I should have known. It's obvious now that I see it. Your little excursions around my region display this trait. I just thought it was you trying to become the resistance's savior."

Not getting a response, he stepped to the girl and gripped her jaw, forcing her to look at him. Neither said anything, he just looked at her eyes, shimmering from the tears. The green was a shade too cold compared to the usual fire he was accustomed to.

Sighing, he released her and looked to Jacob who stood from the chair. Finding the silence uncomfortable, the younger brother scratched at his beard. John was disappointed to not feel as elated by the findings as he hoped. Both Jacob and Avery were being boring and not giving him much of a reaction. Then again, Jacob probably had something to say, just didn't want to say it in front of her.

Snorting, he followed his older brother towards the door, not in the mood to serve Avery her punishment just yet. He wanted some sort of reaction from her when he carved her sin.

"I'll leave you alone for a while, dear," he announced. "I hope you can use this time to reflect on your wrath that has stained your hands. Maybe you will realize you are not the hero in this story as you had hoped."

The steel door shut behind them, leaving her alone with the ghosts at her feet. In her peripheral, she could see the brothers' shadows outside the cage wall as they descended the staircase until there was no movement anywhere.

The tears continued to stream down her face, her jaw ached from clenching it so tightly to keep from crying throughout the report, and her head pounded like a jackhammer. As if that wasn't enough, there was a dull ache behind her eyes, and she was mentally and physically depleted.

Sniffling, the lump in her throat grew, causing a whimper to leave her lips. Her eyes drifted to the photo of Michael and then Tango, which became her undoing. A sob left her, causing her fragile grasp on control to slip away.

No one was around to see her fall apart, to see her cry and whisper her apologies to the apparitions who did not answer.

While the report of their assault was heavily fabricated, the part about her killing many of the villagers were not. And she didn't know which was worse. The fact that she couldn't save her team or the fact that she ended so many lives in her wrath and desperation.

So, Avery cried, no longer having the will to hold the onslaught of emotions at bay.

And she screamed, releasing all her self-hatred and rage into her roar, not caring who in the cement walls heard her.

././././

Yay! This was such a long chapter to write! Over 15,600 words! I had to take many breaks because I would get distracted in the dialogue. -_-' Additionally, I apologize if the report part was confusing. The true events will be revealed later and of course there is a reason for that.

Oh, and for the sake of just clarifying, Michael was just a dear friend to Avery and not a love interest. Being the only female in a unit where girls are looked down on as not as capable, Michael showed her the respect she fought for.

As usual, constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as comments or thoughts. Thank you!