Three days was a long fucking time to keep a prisoner. You picked at the plate halfheartedly, trying to pry your mind from the writhing sense of dread slowly building in your gut. You sauntered over to the tray and wrinkled your nose at the sight- it appeared to be a crude stroganoff, likely leftover from days prior, accompanied by plain bread, the texture of which was akin to cardboard.

You knew how reckless he got when he was hotheaded, and he was surely feeling very distraught right about now.Ī loud metal clang jerked you out of your musings as a plastic tray was shoved, unceremoniously, through the slot in the door. Your mind wandered to Max, “Mozzie” as the other ops called him- you wondered how he was feeling. Hell, even you didn’t know where you were. You sighed and kicked a chunk of broken cement across the floor there was no way out of this- the White Masks would either torture you or kill you, and no one from Rainbow had any idea where you were. The sliver of light on the far wall was slowly fading from bright orange to a deep, charred hue, and you knew the sun was setting wherever you were.

The White Masks were smart, you had to give them that much. Too small of an opening to make a move of any kind, and they never let their hand come into your cell. Twice a day, like clockwork, they opened a small slot and shoved a meal through on a plastic tray along with a bottle of water. You watched the metal door in anticipation.

So little light filtered into your cell from the outside, that you couldn’t be absolutely sure. It had been three days- or, at least, you were fairly certain three had passed.

Mozzie and gridlock r6