spy.” The man with white teeth said in English. “You know we’re not spies. We are security forces just like you. This is an outrage that our country will not tolerate.” The man clucked his tongue against his teeth, “I hated my time in America. Your country sucks.” He rubbed a finger across his top row of teeth. “Your president did give me free dental though.” A quick smirk and flip of his raggedly styled hair, and the man disappeared. Loud chatter across the hall returned his focus to Batya. He heard the sound of ripped cloth. Next, her garments were tossed into the walkway. Justice’s breathing grew rapid. His gut knotted in twists that drove vomit up the back of his parched throat. Justice heard the man with the wooden baton call in broken English, “Whore. Whore. It’s woman.” Justice cursed Allah and Mohammad. Anything to draw their attention away from his unconscious partner. “Quick, tell Commander.” One of the men yelled from Batya’s cell. Justice listened to the buzz as news spread that they’d captured a female fighter. Sweat dripped from his long hair as he hoped they’d mistake her for an American. Possibly they’d think twice about what they were planning to do to her. “Tell Jabar she is a dirty Jew,” The man with the wooden baton called in a hate-filled tone. “All or nothing,” Justice snarled. He slammed his big body into the door. Nothing budged. There wasn’t room to get a running head start, so he smashed his shoulders against the cell’s thick metal bars. His skin exploded open with every crash. The open knife wound in his gut pulsed blood with each effort. He was weakening, still he felt nothing but loathing. The more they laughed and taunted, the more fucking furious he became. “Settle down hero, we’ll rape you after we finish with her,” A gunman said. The small man pumped his pelvis toward Justice and simulated fucking. “Be patient American. We will take all night with your Jewish girlfriend.” Another man laughed. “Piss off. I’ll kill every one of you cowards,” Justice threatened in perfect Dari. Their expressions changed once they realized he spoke their tongue. “Piss off on you,” the same man said. He moved in front of Justice’s cell and reached beneath his tunic. “You better get used to seeing this.” He pulled out his dick and waved it at Justice then let loose a stream of urine through the bars. Justice scrambled back, but there wasn’t enough room. He turned his face away and lifted his hands but his pants and feet became saturated. The man grunted as his flow trickled to a drip. His laughter grew more bold. He called for the others. Two more relieved themselves into the cell and spit at Justice while the remaining men dragged a nude Batya from the cell by her bare feet. Justice saw her bloody torso and perfect form that had been wrecked by the cowards. He snapped. His bare feet slipped in the pools of piss that turned the cell floor into a soft surface. Justice ignored shards of metal that embedded into his palms and knuckles. He raged against captivity. Screams of wrath echoed through the tiny outpost as he slammed against the bars with everything he had. He’d only known Batya for a few days, but she deserved better. No high-level Mossad training or even the U.S. military’s SERE survival program could prepare her. He knew the horror Batya would undergo—and she would too once they revived her. He heard raucous laughter down the hall. There wasn’t much distance from his cage to the office. When he jammed his face as hard as he could into the old metal, he caught a glimpse of them in the front room. He listened as their jeers grew angrier and more vile. There she was. Justice actually regretted that she was still alive—she’d soon be better off dead. She was completely naked except for the combat boots they’d left laced on her feet. Her pale body stood in stark contrast to the horde of dark-skinned men