Alex’s decision to detonate the Russian gas factory had saved countless lives but had seemingly cost him his own. Farah’s pushed the emotion down. There would be time to grieve later—if they made it out of this alive.

They knew they were being followed. The feeling of eyes on their backs, it was all too familiar.

Price motioned for them to stop, his eyes scanning the hallway ahead. "Stay sharp, we're not alone."

"I know my brother, he’ll come to us when he’s ready. He wants something." Farah said

Gaz nodded "Let’s hope it’s not our heads on a pike."

They reached a door at the end of the corridor and on Price’s nod, Farah kicked the door open, and they burst inside, weapons up, ready for anything—anything but what they saw.

There, in the center of the room, standing like a ghost from the past, was Alex.

Farah almost dropped her rifle, her mind unable to process what she was seeing. "Alex?" she breathed  half-choked. "No… it can’t be."

It was but from the knee down, it had been replaced with a prosthetic. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut..Miraculously, he had survived the explosion.

And he wasn’t alone. Behind him, a knife pressed against his throat, was Hadir.

"Farah," Hadir said "I came to talk. And I knew this was the only way you’d listen."

"What the hell have you done, Hadir?" she demanded "What is this?"

"He’s alive, isn’t he?" he said. "Saved him from the wreckage myself. The Russians were going to let him die, Farah. Like they would let us all die. But I brought him back. And now…" His voice softened, almost pleading, "I want you to understand why I did what I did."

Alex was alive but not fully there. His face was a soldier’s mask. But she could see something in his eyes—pain, confusion, maybe even anger. "Alex," she whispered, desperate for any sign, any word from him.

"Farah, we can’t trust him," Price growled "He’s playing games. Don’t let him use Alex against us."

But Farah couldn’t look away from her brother, from the broken man holding another broken man hostage.