Ghosts of the Past (A Call Of Duty: Ghosts Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirteen

By the time we reached the bottom of the hill, the two soldiers were practically carrying me. My ankle had given up as it continued to drip blood. My arms were numb, except for the harsh throb in my wrist, from their harsh grips, and I'd kept my gaze lowered the entire time. 

    I raised my gaze once we came into the premises of the base again. Paying attention to where they were taking me would be useful at some point, I was certain. I wasn't confident on whether or not I'd ever see the sky again or get a chance to use my future location to my advantage, but I proceeded anyways. Keegan's warnings of paying attention to my surroundings were louder than ever. 

    We entered the building directly inside the guarded entrance. It was situated left and wrapped around, connecting to some of the other major buildings of the property. I could only allow myself to be dragged deeper into my doom; my ankle had given up entirely and I could barely feel the throb of my broken wrist at this point. 

    I didn't know whether or not I was dead. It was true that I didn't have a lot of information to give Rorke and that would either set him off to kill me or...I honestly couldn't comprehend anything else he'd prefer. With or without me, Rorke would be no more closer to the Ghosts. Even if I did in fact know some details, I refused to give any up; like my father had always insisted, it was important to protect those who needed it. 

    I didn't doubt the Ghosts and their skills, but I did doubt Rorke and his actions. Currently, and to my knowledge, Rorke had more guns and more power than the small Ghost team. Revealing their location and what they were up to would only endanger the men more. Even if the Ghosts gathered external help, that would only mean another war.

    "Sit the fuck down," one of the guards had broken up English and his hand slammed against my left shoulder as I was forced into a wooden chair. 

    The two guards easily latched my wrists to the chair with rough, poky rope; my wrist exploded in more pain as the vices tightened. They also secured my ankles with rope—my dizzy, clustered vision couldn't comprehend their motions fast enough to try and fight the soldiers off. Once satisfied with their work, the two back away and smirked to each other. 

    "Pathetic." 

    They left, leaving me to myself in the musty, humid room. It wasn't humid because of water either, no...the smell of old blood and sweat burned my nostrils. Since the secluded room was so dim it was difficult to tell what was what. From my understanding I could see a window to my left, dark and impenetrable with eyes. The floor was stained with blood marks. 

    I bowed my head in the chair, looking at my throbbing, swollen wrist. It was burning...excruciating was more like it. Twice the size of my other, it was obvious my left wrist was broken, perhaps in multiple places. My ankles below weren't as visible, yet when I leaned forward I could see the destruction of my right one. It was bleeding pretty heavily still which meant the wound hadn't only scraped skin but dug a little deeper. I was only temporarily concerned about infection. 

    I had to admit that I preferred the Ghosts' interrogation room much more than the rundown one I was in now. It was like something out of a horror movie, a place I highly doubted I'd ever get out of alive. 

    That's what they want you to think. 

    To the realization, I felt a tiny smirk poke at the right corner of my lips despite my pain. Rorke wasn't so sly after all. It was the first step at getting into the mind of his victim: a rundown and horrid room. In a place like it the mind would start to wonder and question. A scrambling, concerned mind meant easier access to secrets and information. 

    Instead, I focused on the pitch of my breathing. My pain made me hyperventilate in a light degree only, something still bearable. I focused on moving parts of body: fingers then toes, elbows then knees. As painful as some of it was, the movement reminded me I was still able to move despite being tied down.