This is it my friend!" Francisco slapped his best friend on the back and put an arm around his shoulders. Mateo turned to face him with a wide grin as they walked. "This is the chance we've been waiting for!" Francisco continued, waving his other hand through the air. "The chance to prove ourselves and no longer be damn grunts to be pushed around by the next officer." His voice was filled with excitement, and maybe a tinge of anxiety. Mateo looked down, seeming to think on his friends comment. The pair approached the steps to a large concrete building with no windows. There was no writing or labels or anything on the outside either. It was a cube of concrete with a door. Mateo stopped and looked up to meet his friend's gaze. "You're right." He said. "We do have a chance to prove ourselves. But Francisco…" his voice trailed off and he looked towards the single door leading into the concrete building. "This is the cartel we're talking about." He said as he looked back to Francisco. The smile on Mateos face faded. "You have a family. You know what happens if we're caught. They won't come for you." Francisco looked away for a moment, then turned back, "I'm doing this for my family. I'm doing this because of what the cartel has done and continues to do." He looked out into the desert and pointed aggressively. "Out there? Out there people are decapitated. People are hung. People are flayed alive and buried alive. The most horrific things a human being can commit against another is done every. Single. Day. And you know why?" Francisco lowered his hand. "Because nobody is brave enough to stop them. The government is cowards. The police are cowards. They are paid to turn a blind eye to the atrocities this human filth commits on a daily basis. And Mateo…" Mateo looked into his best friend's eyes. "I am fucking tired of it." Mateo stared at him for a moment. He was right. This was their chance to make a difference. To actually make a difference. He simply nodded his head and the pair made their way into the building.
Mateo was torn back to consciousness by the feeling of icy water slamming into his face. The freezing liquid trickled down his face and body. He reared and attempted to shield himself. The action was met with wet ropes digging into his wrists. He tried to flail, and kick, but was met with the same pain in his ankles. He blinked away the wetness and tried to get his bearings. He was sitting, tied to a chair in a dark room. The only thing visible through his blurry vision was the silhouette of a man in front of him, standing in a doorway leading to a lit room. The silhouette stepped to the side to reveal another figure. It spoke, "Mateo, Mateo, Mateo." His world froze. The darkness around him seemed to constrict, and squeeze. The very air in his lungs disappeared. An icy sting of terror ravaged its way through his veins. He hadn't felt terror like this since… "See, that's the thing about you soldier types." The new figure stepped into the room and towards him. Every instinct in his body told him to run. "They never learn." Mateo turned his head frantically, looking for a way out. An escape. This had to be a nightmare. The figure crouched right in front of him and Mateo could see its face. The one man, the one being, that he was absolutely terrified of. His words crept through his golden teeth, every word accompanied by the smell of death. His face was covered in deep wrinkles and long scars. Scraggly and greasy black hair fell from a balding head in front of his face. His ear on his right side was halfway gone. "What? Nothing to say?" His lips curled into an evil and maniacal smile. "Oh. That's right." He stood up and looked down onto Mateo, now maniacally searching the ground, the walls, the ceiling, for anything, anywhere to go. "I hope you have a good memory of your friends." Mateo stopped at the words. The man crouched in front of him again, and their eyes locked. The terror in Mateos' veins turned to rage. The man leaned in to whisper. "The woman with the white hair. She. Is. Beautiful." He leaned back again. "You will never see her again. But I will." He smiled that evil smile as he said it. "Oh and in case you were wondering." He stood up. "Francisco is doing just fine." Mateos eyes shot up as a mixture of anger, sadness, confusion and terror ripped through his thoughts and his mind. The man standing over him cocked one of his jeweled fists and cracked him across the face. His world went dark once more.
Mateo heard the hammer of a pistol click behind him. "I'm sorry Mateo." He was paralyzed by confusion. That voice, it sounded like Francisco. But, it couldn't be. He turned around to face his friend. He was staring down the barrel of a gun. "They have my family Mateo." He looked past the weapon and at his best friend holding a gun to his head. Tears streamed down his face. "Francisco-" Francisco cut him off, "My fucking family." Two more men walked into the room, with another behind them. The man in the back… it was the boss. "Good boy Francisco." The boss said as he shoved his way through the others. He was holding a rusty knife in his hand. He pointed it towards Mateo. "You betrayed me. You're a fucking rat." He said calmly. Mateos mind went blank. How could… what did… who… fear crept up the back of his brain. Terror locked his joints. He slowly looked back to Francisco, now on the ground holding his face in his hands, sobbing. The two other men in the room came around behind him and yanked him to his feet. The boss crept closer, still pointing the knife at him. It was dull. "What to do with the little rat." He said as he approached. He brought the knife to Mateos' throat. "No…" the knife traveled up his face, the cool steel and the rusty edge dragging across his skin. The point of the blade stopped just beneath his eye. "No. I want you to see." He backed away and Mateo felt the smallest bit of relief. It was gone in an instant. "Open his mouth." The second the words sounded, dirty and grimy hands shoved their way into his mouth, gripping his teeth and tearing it open. Mateo felt the edges of his mouth tear as it was forced open beyond its limits. He let out a yelp of pain, and as well as he could, he begged for his life. The sound came out as gurgles and moans and screams. He struggled but was held firmly in place. The boss pulled a lighter out of his jacket, along with a pair of tongs. The flame flew from the lighter, and started heating the metal tongs. "You're a smart rat. You know what's coming." He said as he heated the tool. Mateos eyes went even wider as he begged and begged. The boss put the lighter away and approached with the tongs, glowing a faint red. "Remember this, rat. You are nothing. Your voice is mine." He shoved the tongs into Mateos mouth and gripped his tongue hard, and ripped the fleshy tissue out of his mouth. The pain was unfathomable. Stars broke across his vision as he screamed like a dying animal. He could smell his own flesh cooking beneath his nose. The boss brought the rusty dull knife up and Mateo felt the steel connect with the base of his tongue. He leaned close. "Mine." He sliced inwards with the blade.
Mateo was once again yanked back to consciousness as he was shoved to the muddy ground. He was outside now under an overcast sky. He stood, and realized his hands weren't bound anymore. He tried to take a step, only to fall forwards on his face. He heard laughing coming from behind and above him. He reached for his ankles and realized they were in chains. He stood and turned to face his captors, and was promptly cracked across the face by the butt of a rifle. He fell to the mud once more. "Eyes down. Rat." Came a voice Mateo didn't recognize. Blood gushed from his face as he stood once more, staring at the ground. He watched intently as the thick red liquid pooled slightly beneath him. He was suddenly shoved, hard. "Move." The voice came again. Mateo struggled to keep his balance, but was able to catch himself. He started to shuffle forwards, stealing a glance upwards every now and again. He was shoved forwards periodically, and was now approaching a heavy duty gate. A glance up revealed barbed wire running along a tall fence in either direction of the gate. Mateo suddenly pushed forward with a force that made keeping his balance impossible. Once again, he fell face first into the soupy mud below him. He turned onto his back and wiped at the gunk stuck to his face. Once his vision cleared, he saw another man, also with chained feet, being shoved through the opening, and yet another behind him. The second man was massive. "The mech pilot." Mateo thought. Their captors tried to push the man through but was met with a growl and a glare. They backed off a bit, aiming their weapons at the man's face. The giant slowly turned around and limped his way through the opening, having to turn sideways to fit. Mateo spotted a trickle of blood seeping down his leg. Once he was through, the clank of the gate shutting and locking behind him sounded through the cold air. Mateo glanced at his companions. The first man that came through behind him had a swollen face and bruises throughout his body. It was Jensen, one of the Fencers from Storm 3. The mech pilot stared straight ahead out into the desert beyond. Mateo followed his gaze and realized they were on the outskirts of some sort of compound. Tall, heavy duty barbed wire fences ran in both directions surrounding a group of buildings. The compound was settled on top of a decently sized hill. Mateo looked out and tried to grasp what the hell was happening.
A splash of mud beside him made him recoil and take a step back. Looking down, he saw a rusty and muddy pistol sinking into the slop. Jensen stepped forwards and grabbed it, aiming back towards the fence, not realizing it didn't have a magazine. He heard the click, click, of an empty weapon. Laughter erupted from behind the fence. "Fuckin idiot." A voice came. One of the men behind the fence cut the laughter short and approached the fence holding the magazine to the pistol. He gestured to the three men on the outside in turn finishing with Mateo, and said, "you will clear. You will bring back the head of a monster or your little girlfriend will die." And with that he cocked his hand and flung the magazine over the fence and heads of the three men, and down the slope of the hill. The laughter came again. Mateo felt rage building inside of him. He took a step towards the gate but was stopped with a massive hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Ryzhanov, the mech pilot, looking at him. "The little lady is okay for now. They take us from room but keep her there. Better there than out here." He looked at Jensen and he nodded. Mateo wasn't sure about that. But he knew there was nothing he could do for her now. He stared at the men through the fence a moment longer, then turned and started making his way down the slope with Jensen and Ryzhanov behind him.