The warehouse is cold and smell likes stale blood and metal. The concrete floors and walls and ceiling are nothing short of pushing them to the edge of insanity. The only consolation are the small windows near the roof, that let the moonlight in. The ropes are digging into his wrists, but he doesn't care. He knows Colt and Luke- his teammates- are going through the same thing. They're all beaten, but considering Lloyd Hansen's psychotic tendencies... they aren't feeling too bad.

Four weeks ago, you and your team were doing a routine mission, when you were suddenly ambushed by Six's enemy- Lloyd Hansen- a psychotic rouge agent. The fight that broke out was bloody and tough, and in the end, Six, Colt and Luke ended up getting kidnapped. And you... you died. You were dead- they all saw it. You fell ten stories onto your back and never got back up.

At least, that's what they thought.

Now, Six, Colt and Luke sat in the warehouse that Lloyd had deemed his hideout, refusing to give Lloyd information about the Sierra program, and getting tortured for their silence. But none of the pain mattered. They didn't care anymore. Because you were dead. You were everything to them. Sunshine in a rainstorm. A fierce agent but so... so sweet. And now you were gone.

Lloyd stood in front of the three of them, smiling cruelly. "You fellas are quiet today. I'm thinking maybe we kick it up a notch. Get you to squeal like little pigs?"