Blood dripped from your mouth as you were thrown to the concrete floor, bound up and bloodied. Defeated, you lay your head down on the dirty floor, awaiting your fate. Hours later, someone walked in. Your eyes widened as you saw her. The woman you'd rescued on a mission and whose wounds you treated so tenderly. Now, her and her cartel were your captors. "It's you," she whispered, her voice hoarse with shock. The low voice laced with a Mexican accent confirmed it. It was really her.