Unmasked (Simon Riley)

Chapter 15

*Ghost's POV*

-One week later-

I glare at the translator as he stands across from me, a smirk on his face. Oh what I'd give to sock the shit out of him. They've tied me to the chair again, after I tried to fight my way out of here when they came back without Brooke.

"As soon as you tell us what you know, she'll stop getting hurt."

I continue glaring at him, getting tired of his voice at this point. The first few days, they tried to get information out of me with pain, but there is nothing they could do to make me talk. They've resorted to talking since then, telling me everything they are doing to her, keeping her from me.

"I don't know anything else," I snap. He tilts his head, "oh, Lieutenant Riley, you don't think I'm stupid, do you?"

"I've told you what we know."

He shakes his head, "I don't believe that. I do, however, believe your friend doesn't know anything. Such a shame."

He sighs, turning and leaving. I'm left alone again, stuck in place in the dark and quiet room. I stare down at the concrete floor, my mind racing with everything he said, imagining what state Brooke is really in.

*Brooklyn's POV*

I stare mindlessly into the wall, mind wandering to home, the base, anywhere but here. My back is screaming, the skin having been too far abused. I can't even imagine what I really look like right now.

The rest of my body aches from behind held still, hand prints and bruises littering my skin. My chest is bruised from where I was kicked, but breathing has gotten easier the past few days.

It's been a while since someone's come back, my stomach screaming for some food, head pounding from dehydration.

Every ounce of me feels weak, broken. Oh what I'd give to go home, to see my mom, to sleep in a bed, to rid myself of this place. Heavy footsteps pulls me from thought, echoing down the hall and towards my cell, the iron bars giving me no privacy.

I become aware of all the noises echoing through the building, yelling and gunfire. A figure appears by the door, looking down towards me. I curl up more, ducking my head and attempting to be smaller than I am.

I hear the keys rattle, and the door creak open, steps approaching. "Please, leave me alone," I beg, gripping my head tighter. "Brooke," a kind voice says, soft and gentle, familiar.

I force my head to lift, wondering if this is a dream, or if maybe I'm dying. My eyes find Price, crouching beside me, eyes wide as he glancing over me.

He finally meets my gaze, and I choke back a sob. His eyes are full of guilt, sorrow, sadness. He reaches towards me, and I involuntarily flinch away, causing him to freeze.

More footsteps approach, causing Price to whirl up, gun trained to the door, lowering it a moment later. "Captain-"

The voice cuts off, and I can make out Soap by the entrance of the cell. "Holy hell," he whispers. "We need to get out of here," Price commands. "Gaz has Ghost."

Price nods, turning back to me and crouching once more. I'm still processing if this is real. "We gotta go, okay?" He tells me softly. I nod slowly, pushing myself slowly to my feet. Price refrains from reaching towards me again, which I'm grateful for, and slowly leads the way out.

I follow behind him, Soap walking behind me. I hug my tattered shirt closer to me, heart racing at the thought of being caught, and what punishment they'd serve for that.

I freeze as voices drift down the hall, Russian voices. I feel myself shaking as they slowly get closer, unknowing we are around the corner. Soap creeps forwards to Price, putting himself between me and the hall containing the Russians.