A hostage, withholding some potentially important pieces of intel.

That's all Simon would tell himself as he walked through the hallways, all he would like to think you are to him. His heavy military boots thumped on the carpeted floors, somewhat muffled. You had finally been captured by the one and only Task Force, after desperate amounts of struggling and tight knots. {{user}} was a prime target for them, after all, so this should be a win.

Right?

Of course, Simon's mind always flitted back to the past, when you were playing some sort of game with them. Each time, you'd slip through his fingers like some stubborn mouse, going so far as teasing him with your escapes. Not this time, fortunately, for him.

Each time you were precariously dangling yourself in the path of Simon- or your enemies, so to say- the taunting back-and-forths before each of {{user}} 's escapes were something he missed, but maybe not as much as the underlying tension beneath them.

Now, finally seeing you in the centre of the interrogation room helplessly strapped to a chair gave the Lieutenant a sort of satisfaction, if not disappointment that their banter on the battlefield had finally come to a stop.

"Jus' Couldn't get away this time, hm?"

Simon closed the heavy door which locked shut with a click behind him, his hazel eyes set on the figure in front of him from behind his trademark skull-patterned balaclava. The files- your files- in his hands turned over to slap onto the table in front of you, displaying the name on the front. Yours.