Okay, I think you can guess this already but I still put it here:

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter involves descriptions of violence.

This is my first fic and I wasn't sure where the line goes regarding violence with this T-rating. I did my best to keep it appropriate. Let me know if I need to change the rating. But now, here you go...

Ps. if you want to get to the same headspace with me, there is a song called Chokehold by Sleep Token that I listened on repeat while writing this chapter. I don't usually mention the songs I listen to while writing this fic but this was just perfect match.


Walker moved swiftly through the yard with the predatory grace of a seasoned hunter, his mind focused entirely on the task ahead. The anticipation of what was to come gave him a cold sense of satisfaction. He thrived in moments like these, when he had complete control over the fate of those he was ordered to break. As he approached the building where Alex was being held, Walker slowed his pace, the last lingering shadows of night wrapping around him.

He stepped into the building, his boots echoing off the concrete floor. All voices halted abruptly, Alex's head lifted, his eyes narrowing as they looked onto Walker. Walker took in the room. Petrov and Quinn were sitting next to a table on their guard duty. The other wall of the room where the crates he had helped to haul into the building one night ago, were now stripped from their covers. Walker saw a weird display, full of crawling insects and odd-looking plants.

He turned his gaze towards the other wall where the prisoners were held. He locked eyes with Alex, predatory smile appearing on his lips. Alex was leaning against the wall of his cell, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. The defiance in his eyes had dulled slightly, replaced by a weary determination that only made Walker's grin widen. Despite everything, the boy was still fighting, still holding on. Walker could respect that—right up until the moment he had to crush it.

Walker approached the bars of Alex's cell with a menacing grin on his face. "Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant night." He stopped just outside the cell, his eyes raking over Alex with cold amusement. Alex looked at him with hate, the boy's eyes red and hazed due to being awake all night.

"You know Rider, it seems that you always manage to piss off the wrong people. You've got quite the talent for that, don't you?" Walker said amused.

Alex's jaw tightened. "Just lucky, I guess."

Walker chuckled, a low, dark sound. He could see the toll that the past night had taken on Alex—the pale skin, the dark circles under his eyes, the way he held himself as if every movement pained him, the light shivers caused by the cold. Yet despite it all, there was still that spark of defiance, that unwillingness to give in. It made Walker's job all the more satisfying.

"Luck," Walker repeated, as if considering the word. He leaned closer to the bars, his voice dropping to a more sinister tone. "Your luck's about to run out, Alex. Hawthorne's done playing nice."

Alex stared at him, unflinching. "I didn't think he ever started."

Walker's grin widened. "Fair point. But the gloves are coming off now. Hawthorne's given me free rein to do whatever it takes to get what we need from you."

Alex's eyes flickered, a brief flash of something, fear, maybe, or understanding of just how dire his situation had become. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same resolute stare. "Do your worst," Alex said, his voice steady despite the obvious exhaustion weighing him down.

"Oh, I intend to," Walker replied smoothly. He gestured to Petrov, who immediately unlocked the cell door. Walker stepped inside, his presence filling the small space with a tangible sense of menace. He stood over Alex, looking down at the boy with a mixture of contempt and cruel amusement. "But let's get one thing straight. This isn't going to be quick, it's not going to be clean and I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

Alex didn't respond, his gaze holding Walker's with a steely determination. Walker could see the fear buried deep in the boy's eyes, but it was masked by the stubbornness that had kept him alive through everything he'd faced so far.

Walker reached out suddenly, grabbing Alex by the collar of his shirt and pulling him to his feet. Alex grimaced as the movement jarred his injured foot, but he didn't make a sound. Walker shoved him against the wall, pinning him there with one hand while the other traced the outline of his knife, still sheathed at his side. Alex's hands grabbed the wrist of the hand holding him in place, and Walker could feel the boy's grip being weakened by his current state.

The other prisoners started to shout and Walker turned to look at them. They were now standing, the SAS soldiers having defiant but also fearful looks on their faces. The kids looking scared and staring at Walker with horror, except the girl who was still sitting down covering her face with her hands.

"Any of you make another sound and one of the kids will die!" Walker shouted over the noise. The threat silenced everyone immediately. Walker turned to look at Alex who he held against the wall.

"Now, you've got two choices", Walker said, his voice low and threatening. "Talk now, and maybe I'll go easy on you. Or keep up this tough act, and I'll make sure you regret it."

Alex didn't flinch, didn't break eye contact. "Like I told your boss yesterday, there is nothing I can tell you. I was here with my school! You lot should've just leave me be and I wouldn't even know you were here!"

Walker's grin turned savage. "Don't lie to me Rider. We happen to know you met with Colonel Sanders. Twice. I wonder why a schoolboy on a field trip would spend so much time alone with an SAS commander."

Alex stared at Walked with defiance. "He was asking me the same stupid questions that you are. And I told him the same thing that I'm telling you now. I haven't been contacted by MI6 for months. I was here on a school trip. I don't have any information to give you."

Walker tightened his hold on Alex, and he saw the boy's expression shift to one of discomfort as the pressure on him increased. "We'll just have to see about that then, won't we."

He released Alex, stepping back just enough to give himself space to maneuver. Walker drew his knife with a slow, deliberate motion. The blade gleamed in the dim light.

Alex braced himself, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes on the blade. He knew what was coming, and he knew he couldn't stop it. But he wouldn't give Walker the satisfaction of seeing him scared.

Walker moved quickly, the knife slicing through the air with precision. It wasn't a deep cut, just enough to draw blood and send a shock of pain through Alex's side. Alex bit down on his lip, refusing to cry out.

Walker watched him closely, studying his reaction. "Better get used to that feeling, Rider. We've got all day. By the time I'm finished, you won't even recognize yourself."

Walker wiped the blade on Alex's shirt, leaving a smear of blood behind. "I think you'll be begging to talk before I'm done."

Alex didn't respond, his eyes hard and unyielding. But Walker could see the pain etched in every line of his body, the strain of holding on. He knew that no matter how strong Alex thought he was, eventually, he would break. It was time to teach the brat a lesson.

Alex's body tensed as Walker stepped back, a sense of dread curling in his stomach. He knew Walker was toying with him, testing his resolve, but the knife wound still stung, the pain radiating through his side with every breath. He forced himself to stay calm, to keep his expression neutral despite the burning sensation. He couldn't show weakness. But when Walker suddenly sheathed the knife and began undoing the cuffs that bound Alex's wrists, Alex felt a new wave of anxiety wash over him.

Walker's eyes glinted with a predatory amusement as he released Alex's wrists, the handcuffs falling to the ground with a metallic clink. "I'll give you a chance, Rider," Walker said, stepping back to give him space. "I know you are itching to fight me. To try to get the upper hand here. But I tell you now, you can't escape this. You can't defeat me. So, now you get a chance to do your best. If you win, you get to leave. How about that?"

Alex rubbed his wrists, the skin raw where the cuffs had bitten into them. He knew Walker was baiting him, provoking him into a fight he wasn't prepared for. It was obvious tactic to get to him mentally and physically. Beating him up in front of everyone would send a strong message, not just to Alex about how helpless he was here but to the others that despite everything, he wouldn't be able to save them.

"That's bullshit," Alex said, his voice hoarse from exhaustion and pain, but steady. He was trying to buy himself some time, to think of a way out of this. "Even if I was able to win, you would never let us leave here. I don't have to fight you. It's no use."

Walker chuckled, his grin widening. "Well, that might be right. But I want to see you try. Come on, Rider. Let's get to it. For old times' sake."

Alex's mind raced. He was exhausted, his foot throbbed with every step, and the wound in his side was a constant, painful reminder of what he had endured and what was to come. But he couldn't let Walker win so easily. If he was going to fight, he had to give it everything he had, even if he knew the odds were stacked against him.

Walker circled him slowly, like a predator toying with its prey, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Come on, Rider," he taunted, his voice low and menacing. "Show me what you've got."

Alex took a deep breath, trying to focus. He knew he couldn't match Walker in strength or stamina, not in his current state.

Without warning, Walker lunged at him, and Alex barely had time to react. He dodged to the side, but his injured foot gave out beneath him, sending him stumbling into the wall. Walker was on him in an instant delivering punches in rapid fashion, but Alex managed to twist away, delivering a quick jab to Walker's ribs.

Walker barely flinched and showed Alex hard against the wall. "Is that all?" Walker laughed. "I feel like you are not even trying."

Walker and Alex stared at each other, Alex trying to catch his breath, his side burning with pain where the knife wound was bleeding into his shirt.

Alex pushed himself off the wall and Walker lunged again but this time Alex was ready. He sidestepped the attack, ignoring the sharp pain in his foot, bringing his elbow down hard on Walker's back as he passed. Walker grunted in surprise, but recovered quickly, spinning around and catching Alex with a backhanded slap that sent him stumbling backward.

Alex tried to regain his footing, but it was impossible, he couldn't put much pressure to his injured foot without excruciating pain. Before he got his balance back, Walker was on him again, throwing a barrage of punches that Alex struggled to block. He managed to deflect a few, but one caught him hard in the face, sending him reeling. The room spun around him, his vision blurring as he fought to stay on his feet.

"Giving up already?" Walker jeered, his voice echoing in Alex's ears.

But Alex didn't give up. He couldn't. Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, he launched himself at Walker, driving his shoulder into the man's midsection. Walker staggered back, surprised by the sudden attack, and Alex took the opportunity to deliver a swift kick to his knee. The impact sent flash of pain through Alex's foot, but he was pleased to know that he had managed to hurt Walker too, at least a little bit.

Walker snarled in anger, his expression twisting into one of pure rage as he regained his balance. "You'll pay for that," he growled, and before Alex could react, Walker's fist slammed into his stomach, doubling him over as the air left his lungs.

Gasping for breath, Alex tried to back away, but Walker was relentless. He grabbed Alex by the collar and yanked him forward, slamming his knee into Alex's ribs. The impact sent a wave of agony through Alex's body, and he crumpled to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer.

Walker didn't let up. He kicked Alex in the side, right where the knife wound was, and Alex cried out in pain, curling into himself to try and protect his injured side. But Walker was merciless, delivering another kick to Alex's already battered body.

"Get up!" Walker barked. Alex felt tears escape from the corner of his eyes. He drew in ragged breaths, trying to gather his strength. With enormous effort he began to raise from the floor, but before he could straighten up, Walker grabbed Alex by the shirt, yanked him up, and slammed him against the wall again. "That all you've got?" he taunted, his voice laced with mockery.

Alex gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain and fatigue. He tried to throw another punch, aiming for Walker's face, but his movements were slower than they should have been. Walker easily caught his fist, twisting Alex's arm behind his back and shoving him back to the ground. Alex hit the cold, hard floor with a thud, the impact knocking the breath out of him.

"Pathetic," Walker sneered, holding Alex's arm tightly, forcing him to stay down. "I wonder, what would Professor Yermalov say if he could see you now?"

Alex struggled beneath him, trying to twist free, but his body was betraying him. Every muscle ached, his foot screamed in protest, and the room seemed to spin as the exhaustion and pain caught up with him. He could barely breathe, let alone fight back. Focusing in on his breathing he drew in enough air to regain some coherence.

"You're the one to talk. Too afraid to face me before without holding hostages and using sedatives. You had to wait for me to be tired and injured before taking your shot. Pathetic." Alex returned Walker's word to him. Walker tightened his grip, twisting Alex's arm painfully. Alex struggled harder, the agony in his shoulder being almost too much. Walker didn't ease up his hold and he could hear Alex's breathing getting harder and faster. He started to twist the arm more. "Stop!" Alex cried suddenly and Walker grinned with victory.

Walker released the arm, standing up and looking down at Alex with contempt. "You're done," he said, kicking Alex in the side again. Alex cried out loud and his vision was blurring as he tried to block out the agony racing through him. He forced himself to focus, to push through the pain. He could barely keep his eyes open, his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. He was losing, and he knew it.

Walker crouched down beside him, grabbing Alex's hair and forcing his head up so their eyes met. "Tell me what you know," he whispered, his voice filled with malicious glee. "Or by the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you'd never been born."

Alex forced his eyes open, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision. The pain radiating from his side was excruciating. Every instinct screamed at him to give in, to tell Walker what he wanted to hear just to make this stop. But there was nothing to tell. And that made the whole thing so much worse. There really was no way out for him this time.

"I... don't know... anything," Alex managed to rasp out, his voice strained and hoarse. It took everything he had just to get the words out.

Walker's grip on his hair tightened, and Alex winced as the sharp pain shot through his scalp. "Don't lie to me, Rider," Walker hissed, his breath hot against Alex's face. "You're not fooling anyone. You know something, and you're going to tell me. It's just a matter of how much pain you want to go through first."

Alex's mind raced, trying to focus on anything other than the pain, but it was overwhelming, a constant, searing presence that threatened to drown out his thoughts.

"I swear. I don't know anything," Alex repeated, his voice stronger this time, though every word felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside. He knew he was testing Walker's patience, but he didn't care. If he could just hold out a little longer, maybe he'd find a way out of this.

Walker held his gaze for a moment longer, then shoved Alex's head back down, standing up with a frustrated snarl. "Fine," he said, his voice cold and final. "We'll do this the hard way." Walker twisted Alex's arms behind his back, locking his sore wrists to the handcuffs again before delivering one last kick to his side.

Then Walker turned and walked away, and Alex lay there, his body screaming in pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He turned to his side, on the one without the stinging cut, and felt a few tears roll down the side of his face. He was running on empty, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. And if he knew anything about Scorpia, this was just the beginning of his torment. But as long as he had even a shred of strength left, he'd keep fighting. He had to.


Viper watched the brutal exchange between Walker and Alex from the confinements of his cell. The sickening thud of fists meeting flesh and Alex's cries of pain echoed through the space, each blow tightening the knot of anger in his gut. He wanted to interfere, wanted to protect the teenager that was being abused in front of their eyes, but they all knew that any reaction from them and Walker would keep his word and start attacking the other children.

So, Viper kept his silence, occasionally glancing the other captives. He saw the worry and look of fury in Snake's eyes as he too observed the events from the other cell. Jaguar and Raven were trying to keep steady composures, but Viper could see their faces lose a little bit of colour every time Alex cried out.

The other students and Henry were sitting down, their backs against the wall. Henry was holding his arm on Will's shoulder, they both still looking at Alex and Walker with horrified expressions on their faces, as if they were unable to turn away from the sight. Sam and Liam were white-faced, staring at the opposite wall instead of the brutal attack happening near them. Ellie had buried her face to her knees and was covering her ears with her hands. Viper could see the girl's shoulders shaking and he was sure she was crying but trying to stay quiet.

The night before, Alex had asked Viper for advice on resisting interrogation and he had tried to offer some, drawing on the knowledge he'd gained from the SAS. Viper had shared everything he knew. How to compartmentalize pain, focus on something else, to keep the mind occupied. But it had all been theory, drilled into him during lessons, simulated in RTI training exercises but never actually tested in a real situation like this. RTI training was still just that. A training exercise. Even if they got punched around a little during it, it was never in the way that he was witnessing now.

And Viper knew, deep down, that he had only ever scratched the surface of what true interrogation could be like. Watching Walker systematically try to break Alex had driven home just how little Viper truly understood about the reality of such torture. Viper clenched his fists, feeling utterly powerless. This wasn't like any of the drills or exercises he'd undergone. This was real, and it was horrifying.

His mind raced as he tried to recall everything he'd been taught about mental resilience, about maintaining a sense of control even in the worst circumstances. But seeing Alex beaten down like this made it hard to believe that anything he'd learned could actually help. Watching Alex suffer, knowing he had no real experience to back up the advices he had given to the kid, made Viper feel sick with guilt.

Walker's cruelty shouldn't be nothing new to him. Viper had seen men like him before during deployment, sadists who thrived on power and fear. But this was different. Watching Alex fight back with everything he had, even when it was clear he had nothing left, stirred something deep within Viper, a mixture of helplessness and a growing, unrelenting fury towards the man beating Alex up.

They watched as Walker finally released Alex, cuffed him, delivered one last kick and walked away, leaving the kid crumpled on the cold, concrete floor of his cell. The door of the cell clanged shut, echoing through the space, and for a few moments, the only sound was Alex's ragged breathing.

Viper's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He forced himself to remain still, even though every fiber of his being screamed to rush to check on Alex. But he knew better. The guards and Walker were still watching, waiting for any sign of them acting out of line. He needed to be patient. This wasn't like a battlefield he was used to; this was a psychological war, and any rash move could mean severe consequences.

As Walker was walking away from Alex's cell and his battered form, he paused, surveying the room with a smug expression, clearly relishing the impact his brutality had left on the other prisoners. His eyes swept over the horrified faces of the students, each one frozen in a mix of shock, fear, and disbelief. He walked slowly to their cell feeding off their terror.

"Look at you all," Walker sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Shivering there, letting one of your own getting beat up," he gestured toward Alex's crumpled figure, "this is what happens when you stick your nose to things you have no business to interfere with. You think you can survive this? Think again."

Henry tightened his grip on Will's shoulder, trying to shield the boy from Walker's words, but there was no escaping the fear that had taken hold of them all. Ellie was still trembling, her face buried in her knees, while Sam and Liam looked like they were struggling to hold back tears. The weight of Walker's words hung heavy in the air, crushing whatever hope they had left.

Walker's eyes scanned the prisoners. He was feeling powerful, he wanted them to react, to give him reason to show how serious he was. Walker knew Alex was still listening to his every word. Tormenting his friends while the boy was still piecing himself together, unable to help. Well, he couldn't let opportunity like that go to waste.

Walker leaned closer to the bars of the cell, his eyes locking onto Liam's. The boy didn't dare to look away and Walker held his gaze.

"How about you?" Walker asked with menacing growl. "Any of you want to play the hero? Want to be next? Think you can take it?"

Liam's breath hitched, but he forced himself to stay silent, his heart hammering in his chest with panic. Sam, too, was trembling beside him, his eyes wide with terror.

Walker chuckled darkly and turned to look at Viper who held his gaze. Viper forced a neutral expression, not to show the deep fury burning inside of him. Walker's lips curled into a smile. "You better keep yourself in line too soldier. All of you", Walker added his eyes scanning Snake, Jaguar and Raven in the next cell. "Or I will start to hurt the other kids."

With that, Walker turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. "I'll be right back Rider, don't go anywhere!" He shouted before disappearing through the door.

For a few moments, no one moved. The only sound was Alex's laboured breathing from his cell. Viper's heart pounded in his chest. He waited until he was certain that Walker was gone and the two guards had returned to their post before he cautiously approached the bars between their and Alex's cell, eyes fixed on the boy laying on the floor.

"Cub," Viper called softly. He didn't want to attract any attention, but he had to know if Alex was still conscious. "Cub, can you hear me?"

There was no response at first, and Viper felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. Then, slowly, Alex moved, a groan escaping his lips as he tried to get himself up from the floor. His movements were sluggish, every inch of him screaming in pain, but he managed to sit up and leant heavily against the wall for support. His face was starting to bruise, his lip was split, and his eyes, though bleary with pain, still held a spark of defiance.

"Yeah," Alex rasped, his voice weak but determined. "I hear you."

Viper let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "You're one tough kid, Cub" he said, keeping his tone low and calm. "Just hang in there, alright?"

Viper felt stupid. He didn't know how to offer reassurance or comfort to the boy facing a situation where even he, as a trained soldier, was feeling out of his depth. But Alex just nodded and closed his eyes. Viper could see Alex's chest raising as he focused in on his breathing. A tactic Viper had told him about yesterday.


Alex's entire body throbbed with pain. Every breath sent sharp stabs through his ribs, and his face felt swollen and hot where Walker's fists had landed. He could taste blood in his mouth, and the cold concrete against his body did nothing to ease the ache spreading through him. It was hard to find any position to stay in especially with his arms locked together behind his back.

Alex focused on his breathing, trying to ground himself in the rhythm of his chest rising and falling, applying the technique Viper had mentioned the night before. It helped, but only just. The pain was still there, raw and all-consuming, but at least it kept his mind from spiralling into panic. He could feel every bruise, the arm Walker had twisted still aching with pain and the way his ribs strained with each breath.

As Alex breathed, he could feel himself starting to fall asleep. The exhaustion starting to take over again, tugging him under despite the pain. Maybe finally, he could sleep, even for a minute or two. He let his head drop.

Suddenly a loud bang jolted him, aggravating every ache and Alex let out a desperate cry. "Eyes open, Rider! Nobody said you could sleep just yet", a hard voice commanded him. A familiar threat from the long hours of last night.

Alex forced his eyes open, gritting his teeth, the room seemed to spin around him for a moment. He blinked, trying to focus, and caught sight of his classmates huddled together in the adjacent cell. The look of horror on their faces cut through the fog of pain and exhaustion, reminding him that they were here, relying on him to stay strong. He couldn't show them how scared he really was.

As his vision cleared, he saw Liam and Sam staring at him with wide eyes, their faces pale. Ellie was still crying softly, her shoulders shaking and eyes swollen. Will looked like he was struggling to keep it together, biting his lip so hard it looked like it might bleed. They had all seen what Walker had done. The violence had been raw, unfiltered, and seemed to have shattered whatever fragile sense of hope they had been clinging to.

"Alex," Sam called out, his voice trembling. "Are you... are you…?"

But Sam didn't know how to finish his question. It would be useless to ask if Alex was okay. They all could see that he wasn't, but before Sam thought how to finish his sentence Alex nodded.

"I'm fine," Alex lied, trying to keep his voice steady. He didn't want them to worry more than they already were.

"You don't look fine," Will said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He... he really hurt you."

"I've had worse," Alex replied, though he knew that wasn't true. This was different from any beating he'd ever taken before. This was calculated and methodical, a show of power meant to break him. And the worst part was knowing that Walker wasn't done with him yet.

"Cub", Snake's familiar voice called him. Alex tried to focus his eyes on Snake's direction. "Is anything broken?"

Alex focused on the signals of pain his body was sending him. As much as he didn't want to do that, he knew he would have to check his current state somehow. He was hurting bad, all over, but he was fairly certain nothing was broken by Walker's attack. "No, I don't think so. Except my foot might, but that's already from last night."

Liam had tears glistening in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked around the others. "We... we need to figure out a way to get out of here. We have to do something."

Ellie wiped at her eyes, her voice trembling as she spoke. "But how? What can we do? We're locked in here, and Walker... he'll just keep coming back."

Ellie's words were a harsh reminder of the reality they were facing, and the fear in her voice mirrored the dread that Alex was trying so hard to suppress. All of their faces were etched with worry, their eyes darting between Alex and the door as if expecting Walker to burst back in at any moment.

"Don't think like that," Alex said, his voice firmer now, though every word was an effort. "We'll find a way. We just need to stay calm. I'll figure it out. I always do."

"But Alex," Will interjected, his voice barely above a whisper, "what if we can't... what if he—"

"Don't," Alex cut him off, shaking his head. The movement sent another wave of dizziness through him, but he forced himself to push through it. "Don't let yourself think like that. We'll make it through. You're safe. I'll make sure you're safe."

The words were meant to be reassuring, but Alex could feel the thinness of his own resolve. Every part of him was screaming to give in, wanting nothing more than for him to close his eyes and just let the pain take him somewhere else. But he couldn't. And not just because he wouldn't be allowed to. But because the others were watching, their hope hanging by a thread. He had to be strong, even if it was just an act.

Snake's voice cut through the heavy silence again. "He's right. You have to focus, all of you. Keep your heads straight, no matter what they throw at you. If you start to lose hope, they have already won."

Sam spoke up, his voice shaky. "But how? How do we do that when... when they're doing this?" His gaze flicked to Alex, his expression pained.

"You take it one breath at a time," Snake said, his voice low but steady. "You don't think about the next hour, or the next day. Just focus on the now. You control what you can, and you don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you break."

The words were met with a heavy silence, each of the students absorbing them in their own way. And as much as Alex wanted to believe in those words, the terror of Walker's inevitable return was like a heavy blanket over him, suffocating him slowly. Every minute that passed brought them closer to the moment when the door would open again, when the man who had beaten him mercilessly would come back, and Alex would be forced to endure it all over again.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but it was hard to quiet the voice in his head that whispered dark thoughts about what was coming. The pain in his body was a constant reminder that he was vulnerable, that no amount of mental fortitude could completely shield him from the physical reality of what was happening.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps could be heard. The room seemed to hold its breath, everyone tensing as the sound grew louder, closer. Alex's heart raced, fear tightening its grip around his chest. He glanced at his friends, seeing the same terror reflected in their faces.

The door to the room swung open with a creak, and Walker stepped inside, carrying a bucket with him, his presence dominating the space. He took his time, his cold eyes sweeping over the prisoners, lingering on each of them with a look of cruel satisfaction. Alex's breath caught in his throat as Walker's gaze landed on him. The man's smile widened, and Alex felt a cold sweat break out on his skin. He couldn't look away, trapped under Walker's predatory stare.

"So," Walker said, his tone mockingly friendly. "Ready to talk yet? I'll be glad to offer you more motivation if necessary."

Alex's mouth was dry, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. But he wouldn't let Walker see how scared he was. He would show the others that he still had hope. That he still had some fight left in him.

"Yeah, because kidnapping and threats are such great motivators," Alex said making sure sarcasm was dripping from his every word. "You know, you really should consider a career change, Walker. Your motivational skills are lacking."

Walker's face darkened, he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "Still going with the jokes I see. Good," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because I'm just getting started."

Alex tried to hold on, tried to act like he wasn't scared out of his mind. But inside of him, the fear lingered, gnawing at him with every breath. Walker was back and Alex knew he would be pushed to his limits and beyond. He could only hope that when that time came, he'd be able to hold on to that small spark of defiance that still flickered inside him. Because if he lost that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way back.


Colonel Sanders leaned on a desk with a focused look on his face, in front of him was a large map spread out on the table. The map was covered with red, yellow and green markings indicating the various search areas. The most recent coordinates, where they had found the discarded items, highlighted in bright orange.

Ben, Eagle, Wolf, and Coyote stood around the table, the tension was palpable as they studied the map, each person absorbed in their own thoughts.

"Alright, it seems that we need to regroup and reassess," Colonel Sanders said, his voice steady but firm. "Agent Daniels, you had some suggestions."

Ben stepped forward, pointing to the area on the map where he and Eagle had discovered the belt, watch, shoes, and jacket. "I'm fairly certain that what we found here belonged to Cub," he said. "The enemy most likely suspected that these might contain tracking devices. All these items could fit standard MI6 issued gear. Except in this case there was no evidence of them holding any tech at least with a brief overlook. They were likely discarded there to throw us off."

Sanders nodded, his brow furrowing. "So, they're deliberately misleading us. That complicates things but it can also narrow down our area. We need to focus our efforts on the places we haven't covered yet. You said to look particularly those that are more accessible by vehicles?" Colonel Sanders raised his eyes to look at Ben.

Ben nodded. "They probably had some vehicles on the area that they were able to use to transport the captives. They had to leave quickly after capturing the group."

Eagle tapped the map with his finger, indicating the areas marked in yellow and red. "We've covered the immediate vicinity of the attack site," he said. "But if they suspected tracking devices, they would have moved in the opposite direction. That could be any number of places."

Wolf, who had been silently analyzing the map, spoke up. "We should consider potential locations where they could have taken the hostages. Places that are both secure and remote enough to avoid detection. Abandoned warehouses, old military installations, or even remote cabins."

Colonel Sanders nodded in agreement. "We've already ruled out the most obvious locations, so we need to look at less conventional possibilities. Anything that could be used as a temporary holding facility."

Ben's gaze was fixed on the map. "We should also consider terrain that would be difficult for us to navigate quickly. Dense forests, rugged terrain, or areas prone to inclement weather could be used as advantage. They'd want to make sure they're not easily tracked."

Eagle squinted at the map. "What about these areas?" he said, pointing to sections on the map that were near a series of winding roads and dense forest. "They are in opposite direction to where we found the items, and the terrain is tricky. Could be a good place to hide out."

Colonel Sanders examined the area Eagle had pointed out. "Fits the criteria. Let's look everything that is secluded and not easily accessible. We'll send teams there."

Ben nodded. "We should also send teams to investigate the roads leading into potential areas. If they're using vehicles, there might be some traces to follow."

Sanders turned to Wolf. "Coordinate with the search teams already on the ground and direct them to the new focus points. We need to cover as much ground as possible."

Wolf immediately began relaying the orders over the radio, updating the search teams and adjusting their routes.

Coyote, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, finally spoke up. "What if they're moving the hostages from one location to another? We might be trying to track a moving target."

Colonel Sanders' expression darkened. "That's a possibility we have to consider. If they are on the move, we'll need to increase our efforts and look through the places that have already been covered. But we will start with locations that we haven't looked into yet."

Colonel looked at the map again with a focused look. "We'll need to set up surveillance and deploy additional teams to cover potential escape routes. We can't afford to miss any sign of their movements. The routes leading in and out of the area have been under surveillance from the first disappearance. No reports of any suspicious traffic have come through the reports."

The team worked diligently to execute the new plan, coordinating their efforts and ensuring that every possible avenue was covered. As they prepared to head out, Ben felt a surge of determination.

"Hold on a little longer, Alex. We are coming for you", Ben thought as he climbed to a car with rest of the K-Unit. They were closing in on Alex and the others, he knew it. They had to be.


Alex felt as if his breath got caught in his chest as Walker stepped into his cell and got closer, his figure towering above him. Every muscle in Alex's body tensed, instinctively bracing for the next wave of pain that he knew was coming. He tried to focus, tried to take it one breath at a time, but it was nearly impossible with Walker's cold eyes boring into him, sizing him up like a predator deciding how to tear into its prey.

Walker crouched down, bringing himself to Alex's eye level, a sinister smile curling on his lips. "You know, Rider, I'm impressed. You took quite the beating and still have that fire in your eyes. But I wonder..." He reached out, roughly grabbing Alex's chin, forcing him to look up, "How long will it last?"

Alex winced at the sharp pain shooting through his jaw but refused to let any other reaction slip through. He forced himself to meet Walker's gaze, even as his insides twisted with fear. He had to show defiance, had to show that he wasn't broken yet.

Walker's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the bruises already forming on Alex's face. "I bet you're wondering what I'm going to do next. What new ways I'll find to make you scream." His tone was conversational, as if they were discussing the weather, but the malice in his eyes betrayed his true intentions.

Alex's pulse raced, his mind scrambling for something, anything, to focus on to block out the terror rising in his chest. He could feel the eyes of his classmates on him and with every word Walker spoke, the fear became harder to push aside.

Walker finally released Alex's chin, standing up and looking down at him with a smirk. There was something different in Walker's expression now, a cruel anticipation that made Alex's blood run cold. "I thought we could start with a classic."

Walker stepped away, leaving Alex slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He watched Walker pick up the bucket he had brought with him.

Alex's heart began to pound faster. He was sure he knew what was coming next. Waterboarding. He had faced it once. Luckily Joe Byrne had saved him that time after minimal exposure. But he could still remember the pure terror he had felt, and this time, there would be nobody to save him. It was one of the worst kinds of torture, a method designed to break someone without leaving any marks. The fear it induced was primal, instinctual, and nearly impossible to resist.

Walker turned back toward Alex, the bucket of water in his hand, and for the first time since this nightmare had started, Alex felt overwhelming, paralyzing fear. The pain from the beating was still there, throbbing through his body, but now it was overshadowed by the cold dread coiling in his stomach. His mind raced, searching desperately for some way out, some way to prepare himself for what was about to happen, but there was nothing. No technique, no advice that could help him now.

Walker stepped closer, his boots echoing ominously in the cell. He set the bucket down with a heavy thud that made Alex flinch involuntarily. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, the air growing thick and suffocating. Walker crouched down in front of him, a mocking grin spreading across his face.

"You know", Walker's voice was a low, mocking drawl, and the smirk on his face made Alex's stomach twist in dread. "I still keep tabs on my previous employer from time to time, and I came across this one particularly interesting story. That Alex Rider had been waterboarded by the CIA. Tell me Alex, how did that happen? Because I have to say, I haven't had that good a laugh in a long time."

Alex could feel his throat being tight, his tongue heavy and dry in his mouth. But he kept his eyes locked on Walker, refusing to show the fear that was coursing through him. "It was just me spending some quality time with a few colleagues."

Walker studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing before a wide, sinister smile spread across his face. "I see. Quality time. Just like we're having now."

Suddenly, Walker grabbed Alex by the hair, yanking his head back and slamming it against the wall. "Today, you're going to tell me what I want to know," Walker hissed, his face inches from Alex's. His breath was hot and foul against Alex's cheek, his grip on Alex's hair twisting painfully. "So, let's get started, shall we?"

Alex's breath hitched as Walker slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a dirty looking cloth. His hands began to tremble, not from the cold, but from the fear that coursed through him like ice water in his veins.

Swallowing hard, Alex decided to sacrifice an inch of his pride and try to spare his classmates from witnessing what was about to happen. "Please, Walker, not here. They don't need to see," Alex pleaded, flicking his eyes toward the cell where the others were held.

Walker paused, his gaze shifting to the cell where Alex's classmates and the SAS soldiers were watching them. Then he turned back to Alex, a sadistic glint in his eyes. "But Alex," he whispered, leaning in closer, "of course they need to see. It's all part of the fun."

Walker's voice dripped with taunting cruelty. "Feeling scared yet, Rider? You should be. This is going to be fun—for me, at least."

With that, Walker grabbed Alex by the shirt, dragging him forward and twisting him until he was lying flat on his back on the cold, hard floor. Alex's head spun, his muscles screaming in protest as he was forced into position. The cuffs on his wrists kept his hands pinned behind his back, useless as he tried to twist away from Walker's grip. But Walker was too strong, too determined, and Alex could do nothing as the cloth was pressed over his face, covering his mouth and nose.

Alex's breathing grew rapid and shallow, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest. Alex kept his eyes on the ceiling. Looking at the cracked surface above him, trying to steady himself, tried to focus on anything other than the terror that was clawing at his mind, but it was impossible. All he could think about was the water, the drowning sensation that was about to come.

Walker's hand held the cloth in place, and Alex felt the first trickle of water pour onto the fabric, soaking it instantly. The water was freezing, and as it seeped through the cloth, it filled Alex's nose and mouth, cutting off his air. He gasped, trying to suck in a breath, but all he got was more water, more suffocating, drowning terror. Alex squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shake his head to repel the piece of fabric stuck on his face. But it was no use.

The instinct to breathe, to take in air, overwhelmed him. He thrashed harder, his body acting on pure survival instinct, desperate to escape, but there was nowhere to go. The water kept coming, the wet cloth clinging to his face like a second skin, making it impossible to breathe, to think, to do anything but panic.

His chest burned as he fought to hold his breath, but the need for air was too strong, too overpowering. He sucked in again, and this time it was worse—the water flooded into his lungs, choking him, drowning him from the inside out. The world around him faded into darkness, the only sensation the cold water and the crushing, unbearable pressure in his chest.

And just when he thought he couldn't take any more, when he was sure he was going to die right there, Walker pulled the cloth away. Alex gasped, coughing and choking as air rushed back into his lungs. He sputtered, his chest heaving, but before he could fully catch his breath, Walker poured more water, starting the torture all over again.

As Walker removed the cloth second time, he let Alex catch his breath a bit more. "Tell me what I want to know, Rider. And we can stop this now."

Alex was coughing up water, gasping for air, his chest flaming in pain. Tears were streaming down his face, a panic so overwhelming he felt like dying. "Please…I don't know…anything", he tried to gasp, every word feeling like a sharp blade cutting through his throat. Walker didn't say anything, just pressed the wet cloth on his face again.

The cycle repeated—suffocating, drowning, gasping for air, only for the water to come again. Only breaks were when Walker would ask him for the information he didn't have and Alex's world narrowed to that moment of terror, over and over, until he lost all sense of time, all sense of self. All that existed was the water, the suffocation, and the fear that this time, he might not come back up.

But through it all, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Alex clung to one thought: he couldn't break. He had to hold on, for the sake of the others trapped in this nightmare with him. No matter how much he wanted to give in, to beg for mercy, he couldn't. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how terrified he was.

But with each round, that resolve weakened. The terror, the pain, the suffocation—it was all too much. And Alex was terrified that, eventually, he might not be able to hold on any longer.


The sunlit classroom was filled with the usual hum of chatter and the occasional scrape of a chair as students shifted in their seats. It was a normal day at Brookland School, and the students were seated in a semi-circle, their desks pushed together for one of Mr. Greig's ethics lessons. The topic of the day was controversial, designed to spark debate and encourage them to think critically: The Morality of Enhanced Interrogation Techniques.

"Today, we're going to discuss a very controversial topic," Mr. Greig began, his gaze sweeping the room. "Are enhanced interrogation techniques, commonly known as torture, ever justified? Can it be acceptable to use extreme methods to extract information if it could potentially save lives? Or is it always wrong, no matter the circumstances?"

The question hung in the air, and almost immediately, hands shot up. Will was among the first to speak. Leaning back in his chair, he flashed his usual confident grin.

"I think it depends," Will said, his tone casual. "If you're talking about a terrorist who knows where a bomb is, and using force on them could save innocent people, then yeah, I think it's justified. It's not like you're doing it just for fun—you're doing it to save lives."

As Will spoke, Rachel nodded in agreement beside him. She raised her hand, her voice tentative as she added to his argument. "I guess it also depends on what kind of method they use. Like government agencies using things like waterboarding. It can't be that bad. I read that it's more of a mental thing. It's just using water to intimidate. Not actual torture. It's not like you are cut or burned or something."

Mr. Greig looked around the class where students were nodding in agreement, seemingly excited to talk about the topic. He had noticed during his years as a teacher that grim and controversial topics usually got the students most involved to the discussion. But one student caught his eye. Alex Rider sat on his chair quietly, observing his classmates with serious expression on his face. He noticed the boy's hands that were clenched in fists and the way he was taking in a deep breath.

"What do you think, Alex?" he prompted, sensing the depth of Alex's thoughts on the matter.

Alex glanced around the room, his expression unreadable. "I think it's wrong," he said finally, his voice calm but firm. "And It's not just water," he continued looking straight at Rachel. "It's designed to make you feel like you're drowning. Like you're going to die. Over and over again. And it messes with your mind because you can't tell when it'll stop, or if it ever will. Mental torture can be just as bad as any."

Will sat beside Ellie, his back pressed against the cold, unforgiving wall of their cell. His heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it in his throat, every beat echoing like a drum in his ears. His hands were clenched into tight fists, nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep himself together. His mind was spinning, caught somewhere between the present terror and a distant memory from school two months ago. He remembered sitting in their ethics class, discussing the morality of torture as an interrogation method. It had been a heated debate, one of the more intense ones they'd had all year.

Back then, it had all seemed so abstract, so distant from anything they would ever experience. It was easy to argue about something when you didn't have to face it yourself.

Will remembered how he had laughed at Alex during that debate, teasing him for being so serious, for seeing things in such stark, black-and-white terms. "You've got to lighten up, Alex," Will had said with a smirk. "Not everything is as clear-cut as you think. Sometimes, torture can be necessary evil."

Alex had shot him a look then, one of those deep, piercing looks that Will had always found unsettling. "There's nothing necessary about it," Alex had replied, his voice steady and firm. "It's wrong. Always."

Will had rolled his eyes, shrugging off Alex's words as if they didn't matter. He'd argued that in some cases, torture could be justified, that it was a tool that could be used to get information from people who otherwise wouldn't talk. "Besides," Will had added, with a grin that now made him sick to remember, "it's not like they're really hurting anyone. It's just water, right?"

Alex's choked gasps and pained coughing filled the air, each sound more desperate than the last. Will's stomach churned, and he felt like he might be sick. Watching Alex suffer through the exact method of torture the class had dismissed, just two months ago, as nothing serious, made him feel sick with guilt. It had all seemed so far removed from their reality, something that happened in war zones or in dark corners of the world they would never see.

Every time Walker poured more water, Will felt his own breath catch in his throat, as if he could somehow feel what Alex was going through. The panic in Alex's eyes, the way his body convulsed as he struggled for air—it was nothing like he had imagined. He could see the damage happening right now, in real time, as Alex struggled and gasped and fought for breath, his spirit slowly being crushed under the relentless assault.

Walker seemed to be enjoying it, his grin widening each time Alex's body convulsed, each time he gasped for air. It was a game to him, a twisted game of control and power, and Will could see that he wasn't going to stop until he had broken Alex completely.

Will's stomach twisted again as another splash of water hit Alex, followed by the sound of Alex's desperate struggle for air. It was unbearable to watch, but Will couldn't look away and he felt a tear slide down his cheek.

Liam and Sam were beside him, their faces as pale as his. Liam kept clenching and unclenching his fists, his knuckles white as he tried to hold back tears. Sam looked like he was in shock, his eyes wide and unfocused, staring at Alex but not really seeing him. Will could hear Ellie's quiet sobs, muffled against her knees, the sound mixing with Alex's gasping breaths.

Will's heart ached, his chest tightening with every tortured cry that escaped Alex's lips insisting that he didn't know anything. He wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop, to do something, anything, to make this end. But he was frozen, helpless, trapped in his own fear and guilt. He felt like a coward, sitting here and watching Alex go through something they all had once brushed off as not that bad.


The last water from the bucket was gone and Walker was forced to stop the interrogation for a while. Alex lay on the floor, gasping for breath, his chest heaving as the last of the water trickled away. His throat burned, and his lungs felt like they were on fire, each breath a struggle against the lingering sensation of drowning. He coughed, spitting out water, trying to clear his airway, but the panic and fear still clung to him, heavy and suffocating.

Walker stood over him, silent for a moment, as if savouring the sight of Alex's desperation. Then he crouched down beside him, his eyes cold and calculating. "You're tougher than I thought, Rider, I have to give you that" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But this can all end right now. Just tell me what I want to know. Or we'll move on to the next phase."

Alex forced himself to focus, to push through the fear and the pain. He gathered his strength, forcing himself to find his voice again. "I told you... I don't know…anything," he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I only know…what Hawthorne told me…last night."

Walker's eyes narrowed, and Alex could see the frustration boiling beneath the surface. "And what exactly did Hawthorne tell you?" he demanded, his tone sharp.

Alex hesitated, trying to gauge how much Walker actually knew. There was something in the way Walker had asked the question, a hint of uncertainty, of desperation. Alex remembered the way Walker's eyes had drifted to the terrariums on the room and the small flicker of surprise on the man's face when he saw what the crates had held. And Alex realized the truth, that Walker didn't know the details of the operation.

Despite the pain, despite the terror still clawing at his mind, Alex felt a spark of defiance flare up inside him. If Walker didn't know, then maybe he could use that to gain some footing again. "You don't know, do you?" Alex said, his voice weak, his sentence coming in short breaths but carrying a note of challenge. "You have no idea what's going on."

Walker's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. "Don't play games with me, Rider," he growled, his hand tightening on Alex's shirt. "What did Hawthorne tell you?"

Alex managed a weak, mocking smile, even as his body trembled with exhaustion. "I'm surprised they didn't trust you with the details," he taunted, his words still slurred and slow but deliberate. "Then again who would like to tell everyone that their grand plan involves hiring Scorpia to run around, planting flowers."

Alex let out a weak, hollow chuckle, the sound grating in the silence of the room. "You know, Scorpia sure has fallen far," Alex rasped, his voice dripping with sarcasm and gaining some strength again. "I never imagined I'd see the day when you'd be reduced to playing gardeners. What's next, Walker? Trimming hedges? Mowing lawns?"

Walker's grip on Alex's shirt tightened, his knuckles turning white as he yanked Alex closer. The fury in his eyes was palpable, and for a moment, Alex wondered if he'd pushed too far. "You think you're clever, don't you?" Walker hissed, his voice low and menacing. "But I'll make you talk. One way or another, you're going to tell me what I want to know."

Alex's head swam, his vision blurring as the room spun around him, but he forced himself to hold Walker's gaze, refusing to back down. Walker's eyes blazed with fury, his face twisted with rage. "What did Hawthorne tell you?" he demanded again, shaking Alex by his shirt, his voice rising in frustration. "What's the plan? What do you know?"

Alex could feel the anger radiating from Walker, the desperation to get answers, but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "Must be tough," Alex said, his voice weak but still defiant. "Going from global terror and covert ops to digging around in the dirt not even knowing why you're here."

Walker's eyes burned with fury, his face twisted with rage. For a moment, Alex thought he might strike him again, but instead, Walker shoved him back down onto the floor with a snarl. "You're going to regret this, Rider," he spat, standing up and turning away. "You're going to regret every word."

As Walker moved away, Alex's breath came in ragged gasps, his body shaking with a mix of pain and adrenaline. He knew he had only bought himself a little more time, but it was enough. He had seen the fury in Walker's eyes, heard the frustration in his voice. And that was all that mattered to him now. He had gotten his small victory after all.

Walker stormed out, slamming the door behind him, the sound echoed through the room. Alex lay on the cold, wet floor, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. Every inhale sent a sharp pain through his lungs, the lingering effects of the waterboarding still torturing him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push away the nausea and dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Snake's voice broke through the haze, low and urgent. "Cub? Cub, can you hear me?"

Alex opened his eyes, tried to find his voice to respond. But now that Walker had left, he felt like all the strength had drained out of him in an instant. It was struggle just to stay conscious, to breathe in. So, Alex just stared at the ceiling, room spinning around him, darkness lining up in the corner of his vision.

Snake's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Alex lying there, unmoving, his breathing growing more laboured with each passing second. Snake's eyes met with Viper's who was standing rigidly, fists clenched, a desperate attempt to maintain composure against the tide of his own helplessness. It was sickening, how they were forced to witness Alex's torment. How they had no way to interfere, to help the boy being tortured in worst ways.

"Viper," Snake said, his voice tight with worry. "He needs to roll onto his side. Now."

Snake's eyes drifted back to Alex, staring at him with an intensity born of deep concern. Alex's breathing had become more strained, the sound rattling ominously in the room. There still was a real threat of secondary drowning, where the inhaled water could cause lungs to swell and lead to respiratory failure. Without hesitation, Viper rushed to the bars that separated them from Alex and knelt down, leaning as close as he could, his grip tight on the cold metal as if he could somehow reach through and pull Alex to safety.

"You need to stay with us, Cub. Roll onto your side, let the water drain out. You're not out of the woods yet," Viper urged, his voice laced with desperation.

Alex knew Viper was right. But his body felt like it was made of lead. Every movement was an immense effort, every breath a battle. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to roll onto his side, feeling the last traces of water trickle from his nose and mouth. The sensation was excruciating, like swallowing shards of glass, but it brought a small measure of relief. Breathing became a fraction easier, though the fire in his chest still burned fiercely.

"I'm... I'm okay," Alex whispered, though the words came out as a strained croak. "Just need... a minute."

The other kids were huddled together, their eyes red and swollen from crying or trying to hold back tears, their faces radiating fear and disbelieve. As if they couldn't still quite comprehend what had just taken place in the room.

"Is he going to die?" Sam's voice was barely a whisper. His hands were trembling, his eyes wide with shock as he looked from Alex to Snake, and back again.

Snake exchanged a glance with Viper, both of their faces etched with concern. "Cub's tough," Snake said, trying to offer some comfort. "He'll make it through."

But even as he said the words, there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. They had all seen the brutality Alex had endured, and they knew that if this continued, there might come a point where he was pushed too far.


Walker stormed out of the building, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. Rider's taunts echoed in his mind, gnawing at his temper. The kid was half-dead on the floor, and yet he still managed to get under Walker's skin, mocking them in a way that made his blood boil.

As he stalked down towards the main building, Walker tried to calm himself, but it was no use. Alex had seen through him, had realized that Walker didn't know all the details of the operation. The thought that the kid might know more about what was really going on than he did was infuriating.

Walker reached the main building, his boots echoed off the walls, the sound amplifying his frustration. As he stood outside Hawthorne's room, Walker took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before entering. He knew that Hawthorne wouldn't be pleased to hear that Rider still hadn't cracked, despite everything Walker had put him through.

He knocked twice on the door, then entered without waiting for a response. Hawthorne was seated behind a desk with a laptop in front of him. He looked up as Walker entered, his expression cold and unreadable.

"Walker," Hawthorne greeted him with a curt nod. "Report."

"He's still holding out," Walker began, his voice steady despite the tension coiled within him. "He is starting to crack, I can see fear in him but he's still defiant. He claims not to know anything and is still taunting us."

Hawthorne's expression remained unchanged, though Walker could sense the gears turning in his mind. Hawthorne leaned back in his chair, studying Walker intently. The silence stretched on for a moment, heavy and tense, before Hawthorne finally spoke again.

"He has to know something," Hawthorne said slowly, as if weighing each word.

Walker nodded, though inside he felt a knot of frustration tightening in his gut. He had pushed Alex hard and yet the kid was still holding out. "I believe we are going to the right direction. But after the waterboarding I am forced to give him a break if we want him to stay conscious and alive. I know what I am doing and continuing straight with another attack can push him over the edge. It's a shame really. But we are getting close."

Hawthorne was silent for a moment, his cold gaze locked on Walker. "Right, then," Hawthorne finally said, his voice dripping with quiet menace. "Give him his break. But when you continue, I want you to bring him to me. I want to see his suffering; I want to hear his cries."

Walker felt a dark satisfaction at Hawthorne's words. The idea of dragging the boy, broken and defeated, to Hawthorne filled him with a twisted sense of triumph.

"Yes, sir," Walker replied, a cruel edge to his voice.

Hawthorne leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Walker. "Remember, we need him to talk. Make sure he knows there's no escape, no mercy."

Walker's lips curled into a faint smile. "Don't worry," he said, his voice brimming with confidence. "He got that message already. Loud and clear."

Hawthorne gave a small, approving nod, and Walker turned on his heel, leaving the room. As he walked away, the earlier frustration he had felt had been replaced by something far more dangerous. The boy had played his last card, and now it was Walker's turn. And this time, he would succeed.