He had lied about everything in his questionnaire.

They asked him if he could see, he said he had 20/20 vision. They asked him if he could shoot, he said he had been going hunting with his father since he was a little boy. They asked him if he worked well under stress, he said yes. They poked and probed him and told him he was in with a clap in the back.

He now found himself in a dark room, tied to a chair; he wished he had not lied all those months ago when he first joined the team. He did not work well under stress. He tried to fumble with the rope that was holding his hands together. He tried to remember what he had learned before being sent on a mission, but his nerves were not letting him think clearly. The more he moved the tighter the rope became and the harder it was to reach up his fingers to grab the knot. He tried once more, reaching his right index and thumb as high up as he could, but all he managed was to graze the tight fibers.

He tried to think back to everything they had told him. The small movements, the calm operations. Don’t call too much attention to yourself, work fast and quietly and most importantly never ever lose your cool. He wondered if he could move or get up, release any of his limbs, but his legs were tied too, so getting up and using the chair as a weapon was out of the question. The gun was tucked into his belt and the knife was hidden in his boot. He looked around once more, hoping he could make out where he was without success.

He didn’t know where he was. He had to think, he had to relax, it was the only way he was going to make it out of this one alive. He heard a door open and steps coming towards him. Someone untied his legs and grabbed him by the arm, roughing him to a standing position. He was led out of the shed where the sun blinded him. He heard a chopper at the distance and wondered where they were taking him, but when his eyes finally adjusted to the light he realized his captain was standing in front of him, holding a box. The man let go of his arm and pushed him forward, he stumbled but caught himself before he hit the cement face first. His captain nodded at him and then handed the box to the man, "A life for a life." He did not know what his captain meant; neither did he care at that point. He was just glad to be alive.