The sudden light is overwhelming. Lexi closes her eyes and averts them away from the, now open, van doors. After enduring a nauseating and jolting drive for over an hour, she has finally regained her sight.

Most of the journey was spent fighting her stomach, as it clenched and complained. The heat, close quarters, and rocking of the vehicle, all made for a terrible experience. She eventually couldn't hold it back and her gut spewed everything out.

Two men dressed in olive drab uniforms reluctantly step into the van. She listens carefully as they speak; their voices don't belong to the same men who grabbed her from the police - they sound like locals. 

"First the kid pisses himself in here and now the girl pukes," complains one man, as the other wraps a blindfold around Lexi's head. She winces, as he tightens the knot, jostling her throbbing headache.

Lexi stumbles forward, as they lead her out of the van. She listens to the crunching of dirt under her boots and hears morning birds singing. The air is just as thick and wet as when she entered the van, but it's heating up now.

She's pulled along by two sets of hands on either side of her. No one speaks. Her right shoulder feels stiff and swollen. They stop and Lexi hears a thud followed by the groan of a heavy metal door opening wide. She's then pushed forward, where the dirt is replaced with a hard floor. Lexi descends a steep slope, before the floor levels out. Her boots echo in the emptiness of this new place. Where ever she is, it sounds solid - made of concrete.

After walking straight for several feet she is turned to her left and forced through another door, which is promptly shut behind her. Grabbing Lexi by the shoulders, one man spins her around, to face the direction she came. She hears rustling, as the men move around her. They're setting something up. Her breathing intensifies.

There's a loud clack behind her, like wood dropping on concrete. The sudden noise startles Lexi. Her heart begins to thump rapidly. Her legs tremble. If they wanted to kill her, they would have done it already. No, they want something else - information.

Something drops around Lexi's neck. It's heavy and course. It rubs against her skin and quickly tightens around her throat. She tries to pull away. It pulls back harder. She panics and fights to spin out of its grasp. Suddenly, she can't breathe. It grips her throat tightly and yanks upward. She's lifted into the air. Her feet kick and her body flails. Her lungs beg for air. The sensation of death overwhelms her mind and body.

Finally, her feet find something. She pushes against it, lifting herself up. Lexi gasps for air, sucking in as much as she can. She coughs and takes in several rapid breaths. Whatever she's standing on isn't quite tall enough and wobbles back and forth, under her shaking legs. She remains on her toes, holding herself up for air. If she relaxes her legs, the rope will squeeze her throat tight, suffocating her again.

Lexi takes a moment to calm herself, pacing her breaths. Her new platform continues to rock back and forth, keeping her unbalanced.

Then someone pulls at her blindfold, suddenly restoring her sight. She frantically looks around herself. It's a dull place, constructed of concrete, and about ten feet by ten feet. The windowless room is only lit by two fluorescent bulbs, hanging from the ceiling. They bounce a green hue off the barren walls. One light continually flickers, adding to Lexi's mental torment. She stands in the middle of the room on a short wooden stool. The zip tie continues to rub into the sore, red skin around her wrists.

Two men stand before her. Their hair is cut short. One adorns a thin, black mustache. The other is clean-shaven. The sleeves of their olive drab button-down shirts are rolled up above the elbows and their feet are wrapped in black jungle boots.

The man with the mustache steps forward. "Now... let's begin."

He holds something in his hand. He raises the small device and jabs it into Lexi's side. A sudden jolt of electricity surges through her body. Every muscle tightens. It burns. Her jaw clenches. She's paralyzed. He finally pulls away and her body relaxes, dropping low. Her throat meets resistance from the rope. She can't breath. Lexi quickly stands back on her toes and gasps for air. Her legs shake even harder than before.

Still panting, she looks down at the two men. The clean-shaven one stands in the corner of the room, arms folded, with a sadistic grin on his face. The mustached man begins the interrogation.

"The police told us there were others," he says. "At least three more, including a sniper. Where are they?"

Lexi says nothing. She stares him down, wobbling back and forth on the unstable stool. She breathes heavily through her mouth and broken nose. The swelling from the fracture makes it difficult to take in enough air.

The man leans forward and crams the taser into her stomach. Again, her body stiffens as the electric shock runs through her. He pulls it back for a few seconds and then jams the device against her body again, before she can catch her breath.

Once finished, he steps back and Lexi drops low, slipping off the stool. Panic sets in, as she helplessly dangles from the rope. Kicking and spinning, she fights to survive. The two men watch her struggle. Then the man with the taser resets the stool and guides her feet back onto it.

She gasps. Her lungs beg for more oxygen than they can take in with each breath. Finally, she regains her composure and the man continues his interrogation.

"Where are they?" he asks, calmly.

She continues to breathe heavily. Her legs quiver. They want to give in, but she begs them to hold up.

Lexi's trained for this, years before; she underwent SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) training, as a pilot. The training is so real, some have been known to make an attempt on the lives of their tormentors upon escaping.

But there's only so much her body and mind can withstand.

Again, Lexi says nothing. She thinks of her friends. She thinks of Sam. She prays he'll survive. Then her mind turns to what they did to him. Her memory flashes images of her husband on the floor, in pain, and bleeding. Her blood boils and the anger fills her eyes. She glares at her tormentor.

The interrogator recognizes the defiance in his prisoner's face. He turns his head and nods to his counterpart, standing in the corner of the room. The clean-shaven man, still smirking, walks around Lexi. Once behind her, she hears water splashing and then dripping onto the concrete floor. The sound draws closer to her.

Suddenly a heavy, soaking wet towel drops over her head. Tightened from behind, it completely covers her face. The cloth is thick. She can barely breathe. And then something hits her - hard.

Whack!

Her stomach tightens as the pain drives through it. The impact to her gut knocks the air out of her. She tries to catch her breath through the soaking towel. Then she's hit again. The baton deals a load of agony to her body. Each hit almost knocks her off the stool. She's defenseless against the aggression. Lexi yelps at each blow and silently prays for it to stop. After six heavy hits, the stool is then kicked out from under her.

With the wet towel still covering her face, Lexi flings her legs in every direction, dangling at the mercy of the rope. There's nothing she can do. If left here, she will die. She's no longer in control of her fate.

Finally, the stool is returned to its place and Lexi finds her footing. They remove the wet towel and give her a moment to catch her breath.

"Let me make something clear," starts the man, leading the interrogation. "Normally, I assure people in your position that this isn't personal. I have a job to do, and I'm good at my job. But you... you've made this very personal for me."

He leans in closer to her, looking up at her soaked face. Dark bruises hang below her eyes from the damage to her nose. Lexi's expression of anger is replaced with complete and total fear. Her panicked breathing is as unsteady as her legs.

"You and your people killed two of my friends last night," he says, almost whispering. "Now... I've been told I need to keep you alive, but," he shrugs, "shit happens... So imagine, for a moment, living like this - picture it... Imagine the pain, the suffocation, the electricity, the beating, the exhaustion - all of it... until you either die or tell me what I need to know. Personally... I'm fine with whichever comes first. Either way, this won't stop until one or the other happens."

He raises the taser next to her face and squeezes the trigger. The loud click, click, click, of the device startles Lexi. Her chin trembles. She stares at the taser. Her chest swells up and down as her breathing hastens.

"So, tell me... where did they go?"