Hannibal paced the cell, a cold cigar clamped in his teeth. BA and Murdock sat on the floor watching him. Ables surrounded the cage and Hannibal recognised several from the team's Langley days. But all attempts to talk to them were met with blank stares.

"What do you think they're doing to him?" Murdock asked.

"I dunno, Murdock," Hannibal snapped back. "Giving him a birthday cake maybe. Perhaps a pedicure."

Murdock flushed and scowled. "I was just... talking."

"Well quit talking," BA said. "Unless you got something to say that ain't dumb."

"I was just talking!" Murdock shoved himself along the wall, away from BA. "A man can talk, can't he?"

"And a fool never knows when to shut up."

"Both of you shut up!" Hannibal said. "I'm trying to think."

This wasn't just about making Face talk, he knew. They were trying to crack the rest of them too. Hell, they didn't even have to be doing anything to Face. He could be lying on a couch with girls in bikinis serving him beer and cake. But the rest of the team didn't know that and could only assume the worst.

That had to be the plan; otherwise they'd have started on all of them at once. You didn't do this one at a time unless you wanted to pressure the men waiting for their turn.

"We should tell her," Murdock said, his voice quiet.

"Shut up," BA growled.

"No. We should," Murdock went on, when Hannibal stopped to scowl down at him. "Why should we keep on protecting Zephyr?" He said the last word quietly, out of habit, even as he talked about revealing its secret. "It's a footnote! It's history! We destroyed it."

"Remember what Shriver told us? Someone else could know about it. A foreign power could have their own projects to recreate it."

"Could! Maybe!" He jumped to his feet, BA following. "Are you prepared to let them torture us over a maybe? Are you ready to die for a maybe? Because I'm not. We should tell them. Carla is on our side."

"Our side?" BA looked at him as if he'd gone even madder.

"We're all Americans! This is nuts. We're all Americans and we're fighting each other."

"Are you prepared to give her that much power?" Hannibal said.

"What power? So she knows about it. How is that a threat? She won't have it. And maybe someone on our side - someone other than Stockwell - should know about it, in case the other side does have it."

Hannibal glanced at the Ables who were listening carefully to the cryptic conversation. Even if it didn't give away the information they wanted, it revealed a chink in the team's armour. Carla would certainly like to know about that.

Hannibal turned a fierce scowl on Murdock. "That's enough, Captain."

Murdock stepped back from Hannibal, arms folded, a scowl on his face. Anger radiated from him. Hannibal waited. Waited for the moment he'd have to stop Murdock.

~~~~

The water had reached Face's chest and his teeth were chattering from the cold. The Marines were taking bets on when he'd crack. Of course Face had training to resist torture and felt certain he could deal with anything these guys tried - they weren't interrogation specialists. The issue was motivation.

The water began to lap around his shoulders. Motivation. Yeah. Back in the POW camps the enemy wanted information that would help them kill other Americans. Combined with the training, that loyalty helped him resist.

But what was his motivation now? Oh sure, Stockwell talked about National Security, and Shriver had talked about the potential to destroy civilisation and the human race. But Face wondered just how much loyalty he owed to either his nation or humanity.

All his country had ever done was screw him over. His family had deserted him. He had a single loyalty. The team. Maybe the Church too. But mainly the team. And his death in this airlock wouldn't save them. It would just guarantee that at least one more of them would follow him in here.

The water reached his collar. He grabbed the rungs of a ladder set into the side of the airlock and climbed up a couple of steps. Not too high, Randall would just knock him back down if he tried to climb out.

"Yeah, that'll give you about another minute," Randall said, smirking.

These bastards. United States Marines. The finest the country had to offer. And about to drown a fellow American in an airlock, to make him tell them about a project that was dead and buried anyway. Why the hell should he hold out?

If he survived this, he thought suddenly, he was done with his country. Oh, Hannibal talked about the difference between the country and the government, but there'd been a bunch of different flavoured governments during their years on the run and none of them had done anything good for the team.

Screw the lot of them.

If he lived - which he doubted he would, but if he did - he wasn't going back. Never.

The water touched his collar again and he realised he'd been so wrapped up in his mounting anger that he'd forgotten to be scared. That fear came back in a rush as the water splashed against his throat.

He looked up. Randall tossed aside a cigarette he'd been smoking, put a hand on Face's head and shoved him off the ladder. Face lost his footing and his head plunged under the water. The hatch cover clanged down, ringing in Face's ears as he surfaced, swallowing salty water, and spluttering out a yell.

"Wait!"

~~~~

"Fetch Carla down here!"

Murdock ran to the front of the cage, shouting at the Ables. Hannibal grabbed him, pulling him back. BA scrambled up to help him.

"No!" Murdock yelled, fighting them. "I've had it! We tell her."

One of the Ables - one Hannibal had pegged as an officer - snapped an order and another Able ran to the steep steps out of the hold. He'd was halfway up when Blaine appeared at the top of the steps, blocking his path.

"Where did they take Peck?" Blaine shouted.

"They said they were taking him to the diver's airlock," the Able in charge called back. Hannibal froze. The fist he'd raised stopped in mid swing.

"Christ!" Blaine grabbed the man on the staircase. "Run! Tell them to stop what they're doing right now! Ms Frasier's orders!" The Able ran back down the stairs and out another door. Blaine hurried down the steps and approached the cage.

"If he's too late, I'll kill you first," Hannibal said to Blaine, who faltered, suddenly pale, as he stopped well short of the cell.

"Colonel, Ms Frasier sent me to tell you that she no longer requires any information from you. We're heading to a rendezvous and you're going to be exchanged. She asks you to stay calm and you'll soon be free."

"We'll stay calm," Hannibal said, in a soft voice, that rose into a yell. "When we see Face!" Blaine and several of the Ables flinched.

"I'll go check on him myself." Blaine ran.

~~~~

Face's hands slid uselessly against the inside of the hatch. Slipping. Nothing to grip. Through the glass and the water splashing in his face he could see the blurry figures of the Marines.

"Let me out!" Face screamed. Could they even hear him? Air. Air. All he had was this tiny space between the water and the hatch, and his panicky breaths would soon use that up. He clung to the ladder with his feet, toes hooked under a rung, dreading that they'd open the outer hatch. That he'd feel the inrush of even colder water, and the pressure would steal his last pocket of air and wash him out into the sea.

His fingers searched the edge of the hatch, feeling for any tiny gap he could force open for air. No chance. It was sealed. Watertight. Airtight. Air. He gasped for breath and gagged on the briny water, choking as it splashed into his mouth and nose.

How the hell was he even supposed to tell them he would talk? That he'd talk about everything and anything they wanted to know? He made a fist - barely, his hand almost too weak to curl his fingers now. Black spots danced in his eyes and when he pounded on the hatch he heard no sound at all. All he heard now was the roar of water in his ears.

The Marines didn't care if he wanted to talk now. They were finished with him. The only reason they hadn't opened the outer hatch yet was because they wanted to watch him struggle and die. Wanted to enjoy the show. Bastards. Drown him as payback for all the fights they lost to Army boys. Bastards.

Dark now. So dark. He saw those fights. All the fights. The orphanage, school, the war, all the fights since. So many. Life one long fight. But it was ending. At last... some peace.