A lapdog. That's all that Graves was to Shepherd, that's all you saw when you looked at the man stood before you. A stranger trying to coax information out of you that you didn't possess. You didn't know Graves, but he knew you.

It felt like forever that you were tied up to the railing in your home, while Graves debated what to do. You offered him an out; he helps you, you help him.

Of course, Graves knew Shepherd would kill him once he had what he was after. He pulled you out of the room and towards Shepherd, forcing you down to sit in front of his boss.

"Now if you want to keep those pretty hands of yours intact, you better tell us where to find these files."

Shepherd spoke condescendingly to you, while Graves' hand trailed across your throat with murderous intent. Graves leaned down beside your ear, a cold, malicious tone as he whispered beside you.

"I would recommend you speak, sweetheart. Before I lose my patience with you."