*Sebastian Sawyer Interlude* ~unedited~

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~Sebastian POV~

I slam my fist into Chase's stomach, grabbing his shoulder hard so he cannot move away. He grunts, doubling over reflexively. "Ok! Ok! I yield!" He groans, coughing. He drops to his knees, struggling to draw in breath.

I let go, stepping back. "I win again," I smirk, beginning to untape my wrap. Suddenly, something hard hits my balls. Chase's elbow. I stumble back, almost seeing stars as my brain struggles to catch up with my sensitive nerves. Waves of nausea wash over me as I too, drop to my knees, wishing that I was not a man for a moment. Hot tears prick at my eyes as I fall to the floor, looking up at Chase. "Dude!" I gasp, the act of breathing even becoming challenging.

"Never called match," Chase laughs, standing. He holds his hand out and I weakly reach up for him to help me up. "Submit!" He says, pulling his hand back.

"Ok! Match, I submit!" I moan, barely drawing in another breath to make that sentence.

Chase hauls me to my feet, deftly catching an ice pack tossed by the rookie, which he hands to me. I put it on my injured parts, hobbling off the sparring ground. "Fuck you, man," I say through gritted teeth. "That was dirty."

"Real fights are dirty," Chase snipes back, strolling beside me with languid ease.

"Boys!" Our unit head calls, gesturing us over.

~

I stare at the girl in the video, my hands flexing into fists as I watch the man grab the girl by her hair, yanking her to her feet. She reaches up defensively but is too slow in her defense as he slams her hard into the wall. I can read her lips, 'please, I'm sorry!' she begs over and over until he backhands her hard. The videographer's hand shakes slightly as the man slams a fist into her stomach, then slaps her again. He steps back and she falls to the floor again, not moving. He reaches for his belt then the video cuts off.

"Dude, you're shaking," Chase murmurs.

I look down, my hands clenched so tightly that the whites of my knuckles are visible. I am quivering with anger, every muscle in my body taut. "Who the fuck is that?" I demand.

"That is Xander Arnell," The commander says, flicking the lights back on. "Arnell controls President Caine. His wife, Aria Rossi, is part of the Rossi crime family. Her brother is Draven Rossi-"

"The one fighting Arnell, right?" JJ calls from next to me.

"Correct," The commander nods curtly. "Arnell claims the violence in their relationship was all consensual. He blames her for," He pauses, consulting his notes. "___ behavior."

I stand up, "She's terrified of him! She was begging him to stop!"

"Settle down, Sawyer," He sighs. Chase yanks me back down into the chair. "We know that. What we need to do is support Draven Rossi's cause. With everything going the way it is right now in Washington, we are being asked to pick a side. I have headed this unit since you were as green as grass. I know the type of men you all are so I know that we will not ever support this type of behavior coming from our leaders."

"What do you need from us, boss?" Another man asks.

"Tomorrow we are setting up a meeting with Draven Rossi to offer our services," Our commander explains. "We will relocate as necessary and most likely set up a refugee camp from those fleeing the regimes."

A soldier runs into the room, saluting quickly. "Sir!"

"Yes?" Our commander turns, mildly annoyed.

"You're needed at the General's tent! They've released all the prisoners." He says, breathing heavily.

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