Open Case File [COMPLETED]

The Mission

Okay, so this entire chapter is ridiculous and completely impractical and I had an absolute blast writing it! I hope you like it!
(Warning: contains mild/not-so-mild violence)

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Donovan was jolted into reality by a sharp splash of cold water that sank into his shirt and needled his skin. On the tail ends of the shock of consciousness, he found pain lancing through his entire body, starting at his ankles. When he moved a new wave of soreness skittered through him. A groan wormed its way through his paper dry throat. A callused hand slapped his face, dragging him back from the edges of darkness, forcing him to deal with the world.

When he pried one eye open, his reality was upside down. A fact that explained the pounding in his head and the crushing pain in his ankles. His hands hung limply over his head, not even skimming the cold concrete floor below. The air smelled rank like sweat and blood.

His whole vision seemed to be crowded with gray, the floor, walls and even the man that appeared to be standing on the ceiling. His gray suit was tailored and expensive looking. His whitish hair was trimmed and combed back. Even his eyes were gray, it was as if the heartless decisions he had made in the world had cost him his soul.

"Good, you're awake," the man said as if he were a doctor waiting for a patient to come to. "I have some questions for you. Answer them and this will go well. Don't answer them and I will let Vincent," the man gestured to a stout, tattooed man who wore a scowl like a woman wears perfume. "Do anything he wants to get the answers I want. Understand?"

Donovan blinked at the man. When no response came, the man gave a weary sigh like he was dealing with an unruly child. He took a step forward, leaning to get level with Donovan.

"I will get the answers I want, the only option you have is how much pain you get."

Donovan spat in the man's face. Frowning, the man straightened and wiped his face with a handkerchief.

"Very well. I will leave Vincent with you." A malicious smile curled across the man's lips. "And I will go see if I can't have some fun with the beautiful woman you came with."

Rage boiled inside of Donovan and he jerked forward, despite knowing he couldn't do anything. The chain holding him up clinked and he swung but got nowhere near enough to do the man any harm. A satisfied glint sparked in the man's eyes.

"I wonder if I can make her scream loud enough for you to hear," he said.

Donovan was shaking, his whole body was revolting against the words of this man, against the imagines of Carter in pain. He lunged again, but it only managed to make the man give a cruel, delighted laugh.

"Vincent," the man said. "Get me what I want." 

"Yes, sir."

Even as Vincent stepped forward, Donovan didn't take his eyes off the man as he left. All he could think about was tearing him limb from limb. If Carter was hurt in any way, that man would die begging for mercy. Thoughts of revenge were shattered when a fist collided with Donovan's jaw. Pain spiked along his face and stunning him. He shook it off just in time for another hit to slam into his temple, shocking his system.

"Mr. Cabello wants to know who you work for," Vincent said, grabbing a fist full of Donovan's hair. "Tell me and I will stop."

When Donovan's didn't answer, agony exploded in his stomach as Vincent buried his fist in his abdomen. A grunt fell passed Donovan's lips.

"Who. Do. You. Work. For?" Each word was delivered with a vivacious blow. When Vincent raised his fist again, Donovan held up a hand.

"Wait," he said, his voice barely making a sound.