He pours the fresh coffee into two mugs, wondering what is taking his comrade so long. All he needed to do was cut her loose, instill some psychological fear, and lock the door behind him. He lets out a sigh. Frankly, he doesn't care for the woman's well being; she killed his friends and he looks forward to hurting her again. But his partner is likely pushing the boundaries too far; the man is notorious for his sadistic behavior. Perhaps it's time to rescue the woman from whatever he's doing to her. For now, the girl has been through enough.

Carrying both mugs out of the break room, he passes two additional guards. They nod, greeting him casually, as they stroll pass him. He then makes his way down the poorly lit hall, toward the prison cells. Turning to his right and then immediately to his left, the man steps in front of the metal door. He extends two fingers from his right hand and carefully pulls down on the door's handle. It groans as he pulls on it and then props it open with his foot. He steps into the room.

A blur comes from around the corner. Something cracks against his chest. He tries to gasp as it breaks his skin and cuts into his body. The two mugs drop to the ground. They shatter on the concrete. Hot coffee splatters across the floor. A terrifying image stands before him, soaked in blood.

The knife is drawn from his chest. Lexi shoves him against the wall and continues hacking. He grabs at her shirt, holding tightly. His mind and body disconnect as he freezes under the pain and fear, stupefied by the trauma. He slides down the wall, staring at his assailant. Lexi lets go, letting his body drop to the floor.

She searches him; neither of these men has a gun. Glancing down at the bloodied knife, she decides it will have to do. Lexi then limps over the corpse and pushes the door open.

"Hey!" calls out Miguel. "You going to let us out?"

She stops for a moment to examine the prisoners. Then she turns and continues through the door, ignoring his plea.

"Wait! Please! Don't leave us here!" Gonzalo cries. The others beg for her help, as she shuts the door behind her.

Lexi steps into the hallway, examining it cautiously. She looks to her left, which extends nearly fifty feet; and then her right, which travels just a few feet, before turning left at a sharp angle.

She turns to her right, unsure of her bearings, and then hears something - footsteps. They're approaching from down the hall, behind her. Limping, Lexi quickly rounds the corner and presses her back against the wall. She winces and bites her lip, suppressing a pained whimper. She hears someone rounding the other corner and walking down the long hall toward her. His boots slap against the concrete floor as he casually strolls forward. Lexi turns to her left and begins creeping down the corridor, away from the source of the footsteps.

She approaches an open door on her left. A voice echoes from within the room. She stops. A television switches on and she hears two men conversing about a soccer game, as they flip through the channels. The footsteps from around the corner increase in volume. They're getting closer. She's trapped.

Lexi doubles back toward the footsteps. She presses her back against the wall, near the corner. Raising the knife to her chest, she keeps it close to her body. The man's shadow proceeds his echoing feet. Lexi tightens her grip on the knife. She waits.

He turns the corner. Lexi swings the blade. It plunges below his rib cage, on the right side of his body. He lets out a loud, anguished howl. She miscalculated her swing. The man is massive; nearly six-feet-five-inches, with broad shoulders and a barreled chest.

He wraps his giant hand around her right forearm and smashes his available palm against her face, shoving her into the wall. Lexi swings out her left arm, attempting to deflect him. He pulls on her knife-wielding hand, withdrawing the blade from his body, while keeping his left hand on her face. The man lets out another agonizing sound as he does so. Blood quickly soaks his olive drab uniform.

The two men from the other room tear around the corner. The scene shocks them and they quickly draw their pistols. They set their sites on Lexi and bark out orders.

"Drop the weapon!" one shouts.

"Get on the ground!" the other commands.

Despite his wound, the giant uses both hands to pry the knife from Lexi's grasp. As he does so, she quickly swings him around, positioning him between her and the other two guards. He throws the blade to the floor and draws his own pistol, with his right hand, while his left struggles to stifle the bleeding.

Lexi uses both hands to snatch the pistol, twisting it toward her attacker. She pulls him in, knocking him off balance, and then rips the gun out of his grip.

He desperately swings his, now empty, hand in her direction. Lexi dodges. She steps closer, grabbing his color with her left hand. She jabs the pistol under his chin and then pops a round into his skull.

The slug crashes through his jaw and lodges into his brain. The ear-shattering blast reverberates down the concrete hallway. His body slumps over and she drops under it, supporting him up. Despite her cramping legs, Lexi moves forward holding the heavy corpse like a shield. With one eye peering over the body, she wields the pistol around her shield and fires wildly on the two aghast men. Her stiff and swollen shoulder slows her painful movements. She pushes through the agony.

Lexi exchanges sporadic gunfire with the guards. Poorly aimed bullets ricochet off the concrete walls. The guard on the right takes two rounds to the chest and one grazing the side of his neck. He stumbles back and falls to the floor. The guard on the left lands four bullets into Lexi's shield, before three of her chaotic rounds dig into his chest. He careens to the side. Lexi adjusts her aim. She sends another bullet into his head, just below the eye. He collapses.

Lexi finally releases her grip on the mountainous man. His body produces a loud thump as it hits the hard floor. She staggers back and forth, fighting to catch her breath. Her mouth tastes foul. Her stomach twists into knots. She fights back the nausea.

The guard on her right, moans and whimpers. Lexi turns her attention to him and winces as she limps forward. She kicks his pistol out of reach and then leans down, cramming her knee into his stomach and shoving the tip of her gun in his face. He lets out a loud complaint, followed by a few choice words.

"How many others are there?" Lexi asks. Her voice is menacing; low and raspy from her hours torture.

He looks into her blood-soaked face. His eyes widen with terror as they meet hers. She's wild. Terrifying. Unlike anything he's ever seen before.

She jabs the tip of her forefinger into the open laceration along his neck.

"Ahh!" he yells. "There's no one! No one's here! It's just us!"

She retreats her finger. "Where did they take Sam?" she asks, more intently this time.

"Who?" asks the guard.

She doesn't have time for this. Her head pounds and the, now unruly, ponytail feels heavy on her tender scalp. Lexi's finger finds the wound again and shoves deeper.

"Ah! I don't- I don't know who you're talking about!" he insists.

"The man I was with!" she screams, aggravating her migraine. "Where did they take him? Perez said he was at a hospital."

"I don't know! He owns two hospitals in Caracas and has connections in others."

Lexi, once again, withdraws her finger from his neck.

"What hospitals does he own?" she asks.

The guard takes a moment to search his memory before answering. "Uh- Saint John Macias and uh... Saint Louis Bertrand. Now, please... Please don't kill me. Take my keys. You can unlock the door and go."

She considers his offer, unsure of the dangers on the other side of the door. "How many are outside?"

"None. I swear. They left to take the bodies away from here."

"What bodies?"

"What does it matter?"

Lexi grabs a fistful of his hair and smacks his head against the floor.

"Gah!" he yelps.

"Answer my questions!" she screams.

"Perez's personal guard. All of them," he replies through his agony.

"What?"

"He had them all killed... and then we tossed their bodies into the truck."

'What the hell is wrong with that man?' she thinks to herself. "Why?" Lexi asks.

"I don't know... He always has his reasons for what he does."

Lexi scrutinizes the response. Her stomach tightens. Diego Perez is far more dangerous and unpredictable than she and her team were lead to believe. She needs to know what kind of a psychopath she's dealing with.

"What is this place?" Lexi asks.

"Get me to a hospital and I will answer all your questions," he replies.

She scoffs. "Don't make me ask you twice." She digs the barrel of the gun deeper into his cheek.

"Okay... Okay..." he starts. "Perez built this facility when he was in the Army. He didn't trust the other officers, so he built this place off the record, with his own money."

"Why?" she asks.

"Woman, I am dying here! Get me some help before you ask all your goddamn questions!"

Lexi sighs and then grimaces as she stands. She turns and reaches down, grabbing at the guard's ankle.

"Wha- what are you doing?" he asks in a panic. He rolls his body to the side, attempting to escape her grasp. She squeezes tighter. He then uses his free leg to kick her hand.

"Ow!" she yelps, as she lets go.

The guard rolls onto his belly and drags himself away from her, desperately reaching for his gun.

Lexi reaches down again, gripping his ankle firmly. She flips him over and raises his leg off the ground. Then she rapidly pulls it upward as she stomps down on his suspended knee with devastating strength. The joint releases a loud pop, followed by the man's scream.

She drops his hyperextended leg, letting it hit the floor. Then, snatching the other ankle, Lexi returns to dragging him down the hall. He whimpers and yells as she yanks him forward and around the corner.

"You're- ah! You're crazy!" he yells. "Ow! You stupid, psycho, bitch!"

Lexi spins around. She swings her boot into his chin. The collision releases a dull thud as the rubber sole knocks into his face. The guard's head cocks back and he lets out a loud yell. Still holding his ankle, Lexi leans down. "Never... call me... a bitch," she hisses.

The guard's breathing becomes more labored. Lexi turns the corner and continues dragging him. A trail of blood follows in his wake. They finally make it to the jail, where she props the door open and drags the guard over the dead interrogator's body. She pulls him in front of the cell of the five prisoners and lets go of his leg. The guard's panicked state heightens upon seeing the other two corpses, brutally murdered by his captor. She leans over him again and snatches a set of keys from his belt.

Holding them in front of the guard's face she asks, "Which one?"

After a short moment of hesitation, he points to a brass key. She then straightens up and steps in front of the five men, staring them down through the iron bars. They remain silent, uncertain what to do or say.

"Before I let you out, I want information... Why are you all in here?" she asks.

They look at one another before Louis finally answers. "Because of those assholes," he says, pointing at the bleeding guard on the floor.

Lexi looks him over. He's shorter than the others. His tank top and gym shorts are soaked in several days worth of sweat and grime. She glances down at his bare feet, covered in filth. "What's your name?" she asks, returning her eyes to his face.

Somewhat concerned to divulge that information, he pauses before answering. "Louis."

"Okay, Louis. So tell me why these 'assholes' put you here," says Lexi.

He shrugs. "I don't know... You tell me! We were all just minding our own business, until these dicks with masks showed up and dragged us out-"

"Cocaine," interrupts Miguel.

Lexi turns her attention to him. His expression is humbled. He's emotionally exhausted and worn out. She looks him over and notices a long red mark across his neck; he's endured the same torture as herself. His short-sleeved button-down shirt hangs open, exposing his off-white tank top.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Miguel," he responds, faintly.

She moves toward him. "Why does Perez care about Cocaine?"

The prisoners exchange dismayed expressions.

"I told you, hombre..." starts Luis, taping Miguel's upper arm with the back of his hand. "This shit stunk like Perez from day one."

"Why do you say that?" asks Lexi.

"Behind you!" Christopher suddenly yells.

Lexi whips around to see the wounded guard attempting to pull himself up. He swings his knife at her. She realizes, far too late, she didn't take the time to search the man for weapons. She jumps back and then quickly kicks his hand. The knife flings from his grasp, soaring through the air. It smacks against the wall. Lexi brings her fist down, crashing into his face. He falls back to the floor. She then stomps her foot on his hyperextended knee and leans her weight on it. He responds with a loud scream.

"Now, why don't you make yourself useful, for once," she demands. "Tell me how long until the others get back."

Through spats of profanities, he finally attempts to calm himself. "I don't... know... It could be any minute."

"Then how do we get out of here?" asks Lexi.

The guard grimaces and moans. "The whole place is one big circle. Either way will lead to the front door."

"There's only one way out?"

He shakes his head. "No. There's an emergency escape... through the barracks."

"And where's that?

"Turn right... Then go through the first door on your right... On the other side of the room is another door. Go through that and you'll be free."

"Now, go ahead and apologize for all the bullshit you just put me through" she demands, her tone condescending.

He glares at her. "Go to hell!"

"That's what I figured," she responds. Lexi raises her weapon lazily and fires a round through his head. The guard's skull bounces off the floor and crimson blood paints the concrete.

The five prisoners startle at the weapon's concussion. The confined space and solid walls magnify the sound of the blast. For a long moment, they hear nothing aside from the loud ringing in their ears.

Lexi's head now feels as if it might split open. She takes a moment, trying to stifle the pain, as she massages the side of her head. Then she glances at her gun. The slide is locked open - empty. She squats down, over the dead guard and seizes the two spare magazines from his belt. She examines the bullet protruding from the top - .45 ACP hollow point. 'These guys aren't messing around,' she thinks to herself. Releasing the empty magazine from her pistol, she slaps a fresh one into the weapon and racks the slide. Standing up, she ignores her sore legs and turns to the prisoners, stuffing the second magazine into her back pocket.

She limps forward, tucks the gun into the back of her pants and then and then fumbles with the keys. Finally, she shoves the correct one into the cell lock. She twists it, releasing the bolt with a metallic clunk.

"Who are you?" asks Miguel, in awe of their terrifying rescuer.

Lexi swings the door open. The hinges groan. She looks up, into Miguel's eyes and answers, "I'm the one who's going to kill Diego Perez."