In the middle of the dark and cold desert, Hassan was finally captured. The only lights shone the area was a car. "On your knees." Soap commanded, forcing Hassan to kneel on the cold sand. The bag was removed from Hassan's head, Graves setting up a feed directly to Laswell and General Shepherd.

"Y'all got a clear feed?" Graves asked. "Crystal." Shepherd replied. "All set." Laswell followed up. Graves stepped in front of Hassan, "Alright, we're live, folks." He spoke out. Alejandro stood behind Hassan, holding him in the kneel. Ghost searched Hassan's phone while Soap stood beside Hassan.

"Do you speak Arabic?" Hassan asked Graves, to which he replied no. "Farsi?" Another no from Graves. Hassan didn't seem surprised, as if he was expecting this. "Course no. Then I'll speak your bastarlized medieval English because you are all uneducated street dogs." Hassan insulted calmly.

Graves sighed, kicking up the sand gently beneath him. "Ah.. see, we're getting off to a bad start here, Hassan." He said with a small sigh. "You're talking to a Quads Force officer." Hassan said, almost correcting Graves. "You're the Commander of a foreign terror organization." Graves corrected back.

The atmosphere was tense despite their calm attitudes. "I can say the same to you." Hassan said, but Graves quickly snapped back. "What's your target, Major?" He asked Hassan. "What was your target when you sent those missiles to my land?" Hassan quickly asked back, seeming to have a grudge against Graves.

"Well, a wild guess, to nail your ass." Graves said, sounding unamused. "So insolent and foul-mouthed." Hassan began to say, his tone turning cold. "You will all learn to respect me when your nation sees fire."

Graves didn't take kindly to it, seething a breath through his teeth. "You are in bed with the cartel, Hassan. If you disappeared, no one would know where to look for the fucking stain." He said through his teeth but managed to keep his cool.

"I have no doubt you'll take pleasure in torturing me." Hassan remarked, smirking.