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This chapter is very dark and contains scenes of torture and death. Please don't read if this bothers you. I've tried not to make it too graphic, but felt this was necessary to the story.

He tried to think what he should do next, but his brain wasn't functioning well. He knew that he was burning up with fever and he was growing dizzier by the moment. He also couldn't move quickly as his reflexes were less than sharp. He wondered if he should try and grab some food but decided that might be risky. He really needed to deal with the Alid and Meron before looking after himself.

"Come on Jack," he muttered. "Get your head on straight and move it."

He briefly thought about Zatting the two men who were still sleeping, but worried that in his condition he couldn't deal with both before one woke up and fought back. He knew he wasn't up to any kind of a fight.

He glanced over at Donar's body, which was starting to lean to the side. Jack grimaced, realizing that the man no longer looked as if he was sleeping.

He had an idea, but whether he could pull it off, he didn't know. He slowly made his way back over to the dead man, watching carefully for any signs of life from the two tents. When it appeared as if he was safe, he reached down and grabbed the dead man under the arms. Slowly, so as not to make noise, and because he was so weak, he pulled the dead man away from the fire and towards the spot where he had been tied up.

It took time – too long he was sure – but in the end he made it. He almost collapsed on top of the body but knew he didn't have time to rest. Instead, with a shiver of revulsion, he knelt beside the bloody corpse. He stripped him of his jacket and then shirt – a shirt that was soaked in the blood from his neck wound.

Once he'd stripped Donar he grabbed the ropes that were still on the ground and went to tie him, but then thought better of it. He simply pulled the man's arms behind him, tucking his hands into the waist of his pants. Hopefully that would keep them there. He looped the ropes around his own neck, thinking he might need them later. He then made sure the body was at an angle that wouldn't allow the others to see his face or identify him when leaving their tents.

The good news was that Donar's body shape and hair color were similar enough to his own not to stand out, at least in the dark. The bad news was Jack had to put on Donar's clothes if he was to pass, even briefly, as the man.

He hesitated to put on the shirt, which was already starting to dry but was still sticky with blood. He wondered if he could just put on the jacket but then decided not to take a chance. His bare chest might be noticed, and he couldn't afford that.

Once dressed in the dead man's clothes, or at least his shirt and jacket, he made his way to the now almost extinguished fire. He sat where Donar had been sitting and relaxed to make it look as if he was sleeping. He held his Zat down between his legs, waiting for one of the two remaining men to come to take the next watch.

Sam was delirious, from the fever and infection as well as the agony of her broken leg. She was out of water and medicine and the Colonel had not returned. She went from cursing him for abandoning her to, in her more lucid moments, worrying that something bad had happened to him.

Her concern for him lessened as she grew nearer to death. All she could remember was he had promised her, had told her that he would never leave anyone behind. He had lied. He had left her to die. Her worry for him turned to anger and then to hatred.

If he had really wanted to save her, he would have done everything possible to get back to her. Only if he was dead would she forgive him but if he lived and had left her to die – then she would never forgive him.

At that thought she laughed, although no sound came from her chapped and bleeding lips. Never wouldn't last very long, she knew. She was dying and soon his betrayal would mean nothing to her. She did hope that wherever he was, he was suffering, and that he'd suffer for eternity for leaving her alone to die.

She closed her eyes for what she was sure was the final time and allowed herself to let go of any awareness of the world around her. Unconscious and near death she didn't hear the voices growing closer.

Jack was dozing and almost missed the sound of someone stirring. Fortunately, a soft curse coming from the tent, probably the result of a rotten hangover, brought him back to awareness. He almost fell over but managed to stop himself and to tighten his grip on the Zat. He took a deep breath, focused his thoughts as well as his eyes.

Alid grumbled as he exited the tent, clearly feeling horrible from the previous day's carousing and drinking. "Hey," he whispered, as loudly as he dared, clearly not wanting to wake Meron. The leader of their gang seemed unpredictable and not someone to anger.

"Hey, Donar," he whispered again. "You sleeping? Meron will kill you if he finds you like."

Jack stirred slightly trying to make it look as if he was just waking up. He made a soft noise in response, hopefully nothing that would identify him.

"It's my turn to take watch," Alid muttered as he looked down at the pot on the now extinguished fire. Jack had let it go out, knowing that he was safer the darker it was.

"You didn't make any Kofa and you've let the fire go out. What the hell is wrong with you?" Alid said, not looking up as he started to remake the fire. He still hadn't noticed that the man by the fire wasn't Donar. "Hey, give me a hand," he hissed.

Jack knew that he had to move while the other man was starting to relight the fire. It was still dark, although he knew dawn must be coming soon. He had lost track of time, but it had been at least three hours since the party had broken up and Donar had started his watch.

He stood up carefully as if to help the other man. He circled in behind Alid and pressed the Zat into his back. "Don't make a sound or you're dead."

Alid jerked and opened his mouth, but decided quickly it was better to be quiet. He nodded and didn't move.

"Good," Jack told him. "Now stand up – slowly and carefully. One wrong move and you'll end up like your buddy Donar."

"Donar? What –?" Jack prodded him with the Zat and instantly Alid was silent.

"I killed him – slit his throat," Jack whispered. "Now stand up, slowly. Just remember, I'll shoot you if you make any noise. It won't kill you, but it will stun you long enough for me to tie you up and give you some of the same treatment you gave me and that woman."

All the while he was talking Jack was prodding him towards the trees. He kept his eye on the other tent, not wanting to be caught by Meron before he had a chance to deal with his prisoner.

Once they were in the trees and out of site of the camp, he shot Alid with the Zat. He watched for a few seconds as the man writhed in pain but then quickly bent down and tied him with the ropes he'd kept around his neck. He also stuffed a dirty piece of cloth in Alid's mouth and tied a strip of cloth from Donar's shirt around his head to keep the gag in place. He carefully checked to make sure his captor was secure, and then slowly stood.

He peered down at the man who was looking back at him with terror in his eyes. "You should be frightened," he said softly. "You're an animal and you deserve to die, but first I have to deal with your boss!"

Jack watched his prisoner for another few seconds, wanting desperately to hurt him or what had been done to him. He mentally shook himself because now he needed to deal with the ringleader and then – well, then he'd make both of them suffer.

He turned back to the campsite but suddenly stumbled and almost hit the dirt. At the last moment he grabbed a tree branch to try and steady himself.

"Crap" he whispered, as the noise of his almost fall seemed to reverberate through the forest. As soon as he got himself together, he moved towards the camp, keeping his eye on the tent.

The sun was starting to peek over the horizon and the dark night was fading fast. He could clearly see the camp area and Donar's body. He worried that Meron may have left when he'd been occupied with Alid, or even when he'd stumbled. He'd have to be very, very careful and call on all his training and experience.

Jack circled carefully around the edge of the clearing, carefully checking out every spot where someone could hide. He was shivering with fever, but at the same time was sweating from the tension and fear.

Suddenly there was movement, and it was coming from inside the tent. Standing with his back to a tree he watched as the flap opened and Meron began to crawl out. Jack breathed out slowly and took aim with his Zat.

"Alid!" Meron called. "Where the hell are you?" He looked around, a frown on his face. "Alid! Donar! Where are you?" Jack could see him look over at the body on the ground. Meron turned away, but then quickly looked back. He had seen something unusual and began to walk over towards the body which took him closer to where Jack was standing.

He waited until just the right moment and lifted his Zat. At the same moment Meron looked over, alerted by a sound. "What the hell - "

That was as far as he got before Jack shot him with the Zat. He was tempted to shoot once more but knew that would remove the satisfaction of taking his revenge on the scum writhing on the ground.

He stood still, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought this through well enough. He didn't have any more rope and knew that the effects of the Zat would soon diminish. He needed to incapacitate Meron quickly, or he would be dangerous.

Jack thought and looked around by his feet, finally seeing a grapefruit sized rock. It wasn't perfect, but he figured it would do the trick. Bending as quickly as he could, he grabbed it and made his way to the soon-to recover man. A rush of adrenaline helped him and he was able to reach Meron in seconds. He bent down and hit him on the head with enough force to almost knock him unconscious. He did it a second time, knowing he could kill him, which would be unfortunate, but it was better than being killed himself.

Watching closely, Jack eventually figured the chief tormentor was just unconscious and he hadn't killed him – yet. But now he needed to secure him and for that he needed more rope.

Jack fell to the ground, hurting and exhausted. He didn't know how much more he could keep going before keeling over, but knew he had to finish this.

He tried to keep all thoughts of what had been done to him and the poor unfortunate woman out of his head, but they continued to swirl around his mind. The anger, guilt and shame kept rearing up, making him feel sick one moment, and enraged the next. He wanted his revenge. He wanted these two to suffer before he killed them. He'd had to kill Donar quickly, he wasn't about to do the same to the other two.

He returned to where he had left Alid and removed the rope around his ankles. "Get up and move but don't try anything or I will shoot you again and then kill you."

Alid nodded and did as Jack said, although his eyes flicked back and forth as he tried to find an opening to get free. Jack knew enough to stay far enough away for safety, but close enough to shoot if the man tried anything.

He forced Alid onto the ground and tied his ankles again. Then he slowly slid to the ground, allowing himself a brief moment of rest. He knew he couldn't let too much time pass as he was fading fast. All the activity had used up his last stores of energy.

"Food," he muttered. He needed something to eat and drink before he dealt with his erstwhile captors. They had starved him and given him too little water and he knew that was part of the reason for his weakness and fever – although he was also pretty sure he had some serious injuries which he might not survive without medical attention.

But he needed to survive and make it back to Sam. First – he was going to kill his tormentors.

He was able to get some food and drink, although he couldn't tolerate much. He didn't want to get sick so ate sparingly. He did allow himself a good amount of water, although he tried not to guzzle it down too quickly.

"I see you're awake," he told Meron as he stood over him. "So now, let's have some fun."

"What are you going to do?" the scumbag asked, fear in his voice.

Jack squatted down beside him, but realized he was too unsteady, so instead sat on the ground. He took out Meron's knife.

"See this? This is how I got free. It's your knife, so thank you." He watched as the anger and grew in the prone man's eyes. He felt a momentary sense of satisfaction knowing Meron was cursing himself.

"Yup – this is all because of you.," he pointed at the two prone men with the knife. "Now, what am I going to do? Well, let me think. What did you threaten to do to me? Hmm? Oh, that's right. You were going to cut bits off me. I think that sounds good, don't you?"

"No – please, no! I wouldn't have really done it. I just said that to scare you."

"Sorry, I don't believe you. You're a f***ing sadist. That's exactly what you were going to do." Jack felt a rage flow through him that he'd never felt before – except at himself, after Char – no, don't go there!

"So, where should we start?" He heard a sound and glanced over at Alid, who was trying to yell through his gag. He was white as paper and he looked as if he was about to wet himself.

"Don't worry," he said, "your turn is next."

He examined the man lying in front of him, who continued to plead and beg. Growing tired of his voice, Jack cut a strip of cloth of his shirt and stuffed it in his mouth. "There, that's better."

A few seconds later, he reached out and pulled Meron's ear. "How about we start here?" As Meron tried to pull away, and started to whimper, Jack took his knife and sliced off his ear.

Meron screamed, although the sound was muffled because of the gag.

Jack examined the ear and then grinned down at Meron. "I think I need a set." He grabbed the other ear and sliced it off as well.

Both men were screaming by this time and trying to roll away from him. He saw that Alid really had wet himself.

Meron was crying by this time, the blood streaming down both sides of his head.

"I was going to do your nose next," he said, "but I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to breathe, at least not with the gag and I really don't want to listen to your voice. Instead, I think we'll move down here."

Jack slid down a few inches and, with his knife, sliced open the front of Meron's pants and then his underwear, exposing his genitals. "Now, which bits should I cut off first?"

By this time his captive was desperately trying to roll away. To stop him, Jack found it easiest to straddle his legs, effectively trapping him. Meron continued to whimper and scream, as did Alid who knew he was next.

"Hmm? Which bits do I take off first?" He suddenly looked up at Meron and spoke. "You will never again hurt anyone," he hissed. "You are filth, and you deserve to suffer!" He took his knife and began to make shallow slices all around his private parts until blood was flowing. None of the cuts were enough to really harm him, but they were terrifying.

"I'm just practicing before I make the real cut," Jack told him. It was then that Meron began to sob.

It was that sound that abruptly got through the haze of anger and hatred that had consumed. He looked down at the bloody mess in front of him, then over at Alid, who was also crying. He felt a deep and sickening sense of shame.

During his career he had killed many men – soldiers in battle, or those trying to kill him or his comrades. He had killed to keep his world and his family, friends and teammates safe. But he had never taken pleasure in it, and he had never tortured anyone.

Suddenly he hated that he had become like the men who had captured him. And to make matters worse, he had wasted time. He had to find Sam, and instead he had turned into an animal like these men.

Feeling sick he pushed himself off Meron, leaned over, and lost the little bit of food and water in his stomach. He was disgusted by his actions.

When he finally stopped heaving, he looked at the two men who had tormented him – who had almost broken him in two. He knew the shame would last a lifetime – but it would be worse if he were to continue to torture them.

He rose slowly, feeling as if had reached his limit. He had to lean against a tree to keep himself from falling over.

"You both deserve to suffer, to feel the pain and anguish you have given to others. But I just realized that I am not like the two of you. So, you'll be glad to know I'm not going to continue with this."

He could feel the relief from both, although they were still obviously terrified. Meron looked sick and probably didn't know how badly he was injured. The cuts were painful so he probably thought the wounds were more serious. The fact was he would recover with little more than a few scars – at least he would if Jack let him live.

Jack pointed the Zat at Alid and shot him three times, his body disappearing on the third hit. Meron's stared at the spot where his friend had been and then he slowly looked at Jack. His expression, even behind the gag, showed that he knew what was coming. He grew still and waited.

"Yes, I'm going to kill you," Jack told him gently. "Just be grateful I didn't cut you up and leave you alive. This is much better and will rid the world of the vermin that you are." With that he lifted the Zat and shot his tormentor – but only once. He did want him to experience some pain before dying.

As soon as the effects were done, the ringleader of the little band of scum looked at him in confusion.

Jack smiled – a sick smile without humor. He then lifted the Zat and shot a second, then a third time until Meron was gone. He pushed himself off of the tree and turned back to camp. Three more shots of the Zat and Donar's body was gone.

With that, Jack collapsed, unconscious and no longer aware of anything around him.