They Call Me Ice... Part 2

Alec:

     All right, I admit it. I was beyond terrified. The only person who might have actually cared about me in this place, even a little, had just abandoned me to my fate. Definitely not boyfriend material.

     I pulled vainly at the cuffs and struggled hopelessly against the leather straps. It took every last ounce of willpower to repress the rising panic. Instead I focused on something else – anything else. The whoosh of the AC. The electric buzz and tick of the faulty fluorescent lights. The thud of footfalls –

     The thud of footfalls?

     Oh, shit.

     'Goodbye, Elaine. I promise I won't give them the information they want. I won't lead them to you. I love you.'


Marcus:


     I strode down the sterile white halls of the Agency's living quarters. Not all Hunters lived on the property like I did. It was just easier, more convenient.

     I pressed my palm to the key pad and waited impatiently for the scan to finish. I ducked in and immediately flopped onto the "bed." "Bed" is kind of loose term. More like a semi-comfortable mattress on the floor with a set of sheets and a blanket thrown over it. Let's not forget the lumpy pillow that fell like it contained bricks rather than feathers. But I was too exhausted to care. That bone-deep tired that permeated your entire being. Sleep should not have come as easily as it did.


Alec:


     "Where is the Resistance?"

     The growling voice of my interrogator caused a shiver of trepidation to run down my spine. However, I refused to answer.

     I never saw the blow coming. Brass knuckles slammed into the side of my face, instantly breaking my jaw. Holding back a scream, pain erupted through my face in a blinding flash as blood poured from my lips. Coughing, I choked on the coppery liquid.

     "Where. Is. The. Resistance?"

     Despite the pain it caused, I closed my mouth and locked my jaw. Another punch landed hard on the other side of my face, fracturing the other side of my jaw.

     'Well, at least now I match,' I thought dryly through the pain.

     A large hand gripped my hair and pulled my head back painfully. I was breathing hard, if I could've cried, I would have. But, god, it hurt so much.

     "If you tell us, this can stop. We might even let you go."

     'Liar.'

     "Go to Hell, you son of a –"

     A blow to my abdomen knocked the breath from my lungs and cut my insult short. "Show me some respect, you mutated street rat! You can tell us what we need to know now, or we can keep this up."

     "Well, then," I panted. "We're gonna be here awhile."


Marcus:


*beep beep beep*

The sound woke me from a dead sleep. Groggily, I rolled over and dug my pager out of my coat pocket. I glanced at the number through half-lidded eyes. Groaning, I dug my phone out of my jeans pocket and dialed back the number.

     "Marcus?"

     "Yes, sir. You paged?"

     "Yes. I need you to report to the interrogation room."

     I sat up, brows furrowed. "If I may, sir, why do you need me?"

     "The mutant you brought in is uncooperative. I would like to see if you can get anything out of him."

     Shaking my head, I sighed heavily. The kid was an idiot. But he was an idiot with some serious balls. "I'll be there in a few minutes."