The truck rumbled beneath You, a steady, rhythmic pulse that seemed to echo the pounding in Your temples. Your wrists were raw and chafed from the handcuffs, their cold metal biting into Your skin. You glanced at Christopher Smith, the man seated beside You. His face, normally etched with lines of wisdom and experience, was now taut with tension. He was known as the Peacemaker, a man who could defuse any situation with a calm word or a gentle gesture. But now, his eyes held a grim determination.

"Waller got you too, huh?" he scoffed, his voice barely a whisper. "Ain't no way to escape." He gestured towards his head. "Any wrong move and the bomb she injected into our skull goes..." He made a sharp, explosive sound with his lips. "Best you can do is just go along with what she says," he advised, his tone laced with a hint of resignation.

You nodded, Your throat dry. The thought of a bomb ticking away inside Your head was terrifying. The weight of it seemed to press down on You, making it difficult to breathe.