Thread: Assignment Name: Shiloh Luxor Richmond {SLR} (Charliesweb7 & Razgriz)

The room was bare. The typical gray concrete floors in the walled area. There was some red stains in various places, a sure sign that several if not more before her had been beaten into submission. Had those ones given in? The walls were plain gray cinderblocks. This place looked like a dungeon of sorts. Fluorescent lights that went from being blindingly bright, to flickering, to rather dim, hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. It was all part of their tactic. A single long metal table sat in the middle of the room, two metal chairs on either side. There was just one door and one, one way mirror. Nothing else except one thing...There was a woman, chained to the wall. Her arms were above her head, feet just barely dangling above the floor. How long had it been? Possibly a week. Or maybe even longer. She thought it had been a month now. Who knows. Without any windows, each day that ticked by was possibly only hours or something. But that white noise coming through he speakers was annoying the shit out of her. Of course, she only noticed it every once in a while now. Only when she let her mind free. When she dared to let it bother her. They had tried everything. Water boarding. They had been dripping water on her endlessly. They would take times where they put her on the floor, dripping water in between her eyes. Of course, she just welcomed it and drank some of it. Deprivation of food and water. They could only hold out so much before she died. They wanted her to talk, not kill her. After all, if she was dead...she couldn't speak. Sure, she was hungry as hell. But she could deal with it. She just thought of other things until then. They deprived her of the ability to use the restroom. But that just caused more problems for them as she soiled herself. They had tried hanging her up, but she just annoyed them. Rattling chains and giving wicked smiles. Deprivation of sleep by injecting her with adrenaline. The girl would not give up! This woman was some crazy shit. Come here.. She whispered, a smile on her face. I have something to say... She whispered, licking her lips. She looked rather different from when they first took her. Her red hair was matted and a mess. The clothes she wore seemed to look a little looser on her even. She smelled atrocious, like she had lived in a landfill for years. Not only were her clothes soiled but they were stained with... unmentionables you could say. There was various cuts on her body and bruises, mainly from struggling and being wild. The man approached her, looking like he had just hit the jackpot. Was she going to squeal? Had they finally cracked her? Was she going to give them everything?! He could get a promotion for this... I am not telling you anything, bastard. She spoke in Russian, spitting right in the guys face. She laughed maniacally, as if this was some game. Of course it was a game to her! All of this was just so much fun. The FBI had to do better than this. They were child's play to what she was used to. Psh, FBI, CIA. These silly Americans thought they were so good. Oh, you have to do better than that. She replied, a thick Russian accent in her voice. Anatasia Dvok . More commonly known as Cutthroat. She was ruthless alright, just like her name implied. She looked like a buxom bombshell, a sweetheart at best. Ice bluegreen eyes that hide behind flirty lashes. Rich red hair that cascaded down in prefect waves to her bra line. The hour glass shape of a smaller waist and fuller hips. The pert, round rear and full breasts. She was what men dreamed of what men wanted. And that is exactly what made her perfect to do her job. Sometimes she looked so innocent and sweet. She let men put their guard down for a pretty face like hers. And that is when she struck. She had her identification number tattooed on the back of her neck, in a white colored ink. It blended in more to her skin so it was not obvious when her hair was up. On her hip was a scar, in the Cyrillic letter k, which stood for cutthroat. It looked rather painful, mainly because she had been branded there. The raised and crumpled flesh had all but healed now, but it still did look rather nasty. Scars littered her body, more focused on her arms, legs and stomach. And there was a few round circular holes, indicating bullets in her shoulder and stomach. She didnt even want to start with how many times she had broken bones or dislocated shoulders. That was the price to pay for being in her line of work however. But ironically...this girl didnt exist before age 10. Literally. She just appeared one day. That is what the KGB wanted everyone to think at least. That Anastasia just simply... appeared one day. You will pay for that you little bitch... The man hissed, his hands going to her neck. He firmly gripped her neck, starting to squeeze. The white noise cut out before something replaced it.Agent Taylor... A voice called out through the speaker. The man soon dropped his hands, causing Anastasia to inhale a rough breath before coughing a bit. A few seconds later, the door was opened and a new man appeared. He seemed to be the one in charge. The way he held himself spoke volumes. The straightened back, puffed out chest and narrowed eyes. His salt and pepper hair showed signs of thinning and his face looked clearly weathered. Yes, he was clearly in charge. Agent Taylor, you are dismissed. I will handle Miss Dvok from here. He said simply, taking a few steps towards the woman. The way he wrinkled his nose, Anastasia knew that he didn't like the smell. Totally their fault though. She wasn't going to feel sorry for him. He stopped a few feet from the woman, his steel gray eyes locked on hers before giving one a once over. Two weeks, six days, seventeen hours, forty two minutes and... He spoke, glancing to his watch. Roughly twenty seconds. He simply told her. Anastasia smirked at the man. What, is that how long you have been dying to ask me out? She teased him, chuckling gently. I will have to say...we expected this much. Considering you have been on the watch list for the past nine years and you just now surfaced. However...I still have to wonder why you were caught so easily this time... He replied to her, moving away and walking to the table. Because it has always been my wish to be captured and tortured by the FBI here in America. It has been on my bucket list for...gosh...ever. She added, laughing once again. The man didn't seemed moved by her little joke. We have a deal for you. But we are still unsure if you can be trusted. Even if the word is that you are now ex-KGB...we are unsure where your true allegiance still lies...This will not be an easy task. And believe me. The hard part is not even over. He explained. However, you are a valuable asset. Whether that may be as a bargaining chip or part of our team is to be determined. For now, you are in need of a shower. He simply responded, giving her one last glance before opening the door. At this point, there was three men who entered. One wore a pair of gloves and had a syringe in his hand, waiting to be able to drug her. Aww, you have to drug me? Now where is the fun in that? I thought we could all have a little fun. She responded with a wink. No response by the gentlemen and they seemed to not waiver in the slightest. All three approached before the one with the gloves took the last few steps towards her. A simple poke in the neck before they stepped away. The medicine rushed through her system, taking effect within minutes. And before she knew it, she was passed out cold. Are the restraints really necessary? She asked, smirking as they zip tied her wrists together behind her back. Handcuffs were easy enough to get out for this woman. She was unsure how long she had been out but she knew it still had been another day or two before she was to be shown around to a few people. Anastasia was finally cleaned up, smelling like a fresh flower instead of Amarillo. That must have been a terrible job to whoever cleaned her. They certainly didn't trust her alone in the shower. She would somehow use something against the guards. Her red hair was no longer matted but brushed and tangle free, back to its former silky quality. Since she had finally gotten a good meal in her and some sleep, her face seemed to be better. Overall, she looked a lot better. Less...sallow. Although, her wrists and ankles were still cherry red, the skin ripped and chapped from the restraints. She currently wore a FBI t-shirt and a pair of mesh men's shorts. Very flattering to her body. Is this the outfit you give all new recruits? Anastasia teased. All she got was stern looks. Apparently they didn't find her jokes all that funny. Yeah well screw them. She didn't give one iota. There was 5 men around her. Two in front of her, the boss at the very front and two behind her. The two behind her made sure that they had either arm of her and gripped her flesh tightly. They were her guards for the day. It was to make sure she didn't run or hurt any other agents. They took her through the office, apparently on a mission to meet one person. Who? She was unsure of. Walking through the halls, she noticed everyone stood at their cubicles. All of them watched her, eyes glaring at her soul. Some seemed to just watch in curiosity. She was the show of the day though. She knew why some glared at her. She was public enemy number one around here. She had probably killed some of their agents. Their families. Hell, who knew. She lost count of the bodies she had killed. She lost count of anything. The men she had slept with, the bodies she had killed, the orders she had taken. She only kept track of a few things... Oh I guess this is my walk of shame huh? I guess I was due for one of those! She replied, plastering on a smile for the people watching her intently. Another man in a suit. Another woman glaring at her. Oh look, another door that they went through. All of it was so fascinating. Their journey finally came to an end, knocking before opening a door and leading her in. It was a massive room, filled with servers. The stark white room was buzzing with sounds as the men in suits lead her into a small room. This room was rather dark and housed a man at a keyboard. Darren. The boss replied, waiting for him to get up. Darren, this is Anastasia. The woman I have told you about. He replied, looking between her and him. Anastasia, this is Darren Jacobs. He introduced. There is a small scale operation that I would like the two of you to work on. This is merely just one of the tests I will be subjecting you through Miss Dvok. He informed them.