Disclaimer - I do not own Homeland. That pleasure belongs to Showtime. No copyright infringement or money making scheme intended. This is purely for reading enjoyment.

A/N Alex Gansa said in an interview back in S1 Tom turned first which I'm grateful for because I was working on that basis anyway.

He is drawing in his last breaths. He's sure of it. His breathing is faster and harder as his heart pounds hard against his rib cage. His body aches as blood flows to various different injuries. He is angry that he is going to die. Jess and Dana, Chris and his mom. Their faces swim at the front of his mind and he's aching in a different way.

Every inch of his skin feels red hot, raw and blistered. He couldn't have taken much more of Tom's blood curling screams and now it seemed Tom couldn't take it anymore either. Tom had talked. He just hoped that the unit already had enough time to get the hell to safety. He didn't have the energy to be angry with Tom. He's is also relieved that he is going to die because he couldn't have taken much more torture himself and had been close to spilling his own guts.

The bumps that had made the journey worse on his already tired and aching body cease. The engine quietens down. There is lots of shouting. The bag is placed over his head again. Brody gags. It stinks of sick and various other body fluids he'd rather not think off. He hears the van door open and the chattering of voices as he is roughly pulled out of the van. The voices become louder that indicate two people arguing. The grip on his arm tightens and the arguing becomes louder, more voices now yelling. Then gunfire and he knows his captor has been hit because as his dead weight falls to the ground, he pulls Brody with him. Brody stays where he is, scrunches himself up into a ball and tries to stay as small as possible. He can't do anything or go anywhere. He hasn't the energy or the means. The bag over his eyes means he can't see. His legs and hands are tied together. All he could do is lie where he is and listen. He lies still and concludes the van must be providing him with some cover. Very suddenly the gunfire stops, but Brody remains still until he hears footsteps and his body tenses in terror. Approaching footsteps had come to mean pain. He could sense someone standing near him now. He blanches as someone places a hand on his arm.

"It is ok, my friend."

English…an American accent! Brody could weep with joy. The bag is taken off of his head and Brody finds himself blinking constantly for a few moments - the early morning sun is glinting brightly – and he gulps as his lungs welcome the fresh air. The man unties Brody's legs and hands, helping him to his feet. He could not believe it. They had found them.

"Ttttom", Brody manages to stutter out. His mouth is very dry and he struggles to speak.

"Alive", the man's eyes are shining.

Brody lets out a sigh of relief as the man starts to guide him. He could find out his name and thank him properly later. They walk slowly in silence as Brody could not walk fast.

His eyes adjusting to the day light, he looks around and as he does so, his gut starts churning and it is telling him that something is very wrong. He sees no dead bodies apart from the one of his captor back at the van. The amount of gunfire he had heard should mean more casualties.

Another van passes by them and stops in the court yard just ahead of them. He stands still in shock and horror as he sees Tom being dragged out of the back, bloody, beaten and unconscious. His senses are screaming at him to do something. To run, but he physically could not.

"Ddoo sumthin", he manages to croak out to the man who had picked him up.

"I am", he replies shortly and his voice suddenly does not sound friendly. His gun is pointed at Brody and he nudges him into the court yard. Brody can't refuse the feeling of betrayal that washes over him, the burning anger that spikes and the helplessness that follows. He looks around and manages to count at least 30 armed men and all of them are staring at him. He is in such close proximity to them he can see their faces. He sees hate on many of the faces. But a few show some curiosity and he could not figure out why. He realises he recognises some of the faces and suddenly wishes he had his riffle to hand. How long he stands with the barrel of the man's gun in his back he does not know, but wishes they would get on with killing him and Tom quickly, now that they have the information they want.

Loud footsteps echo across the court yard and the mumbles of different conversations stop. The court yard becomes deadly quiet. Every man stands to attention. Brody feels his eyes ready to pop out of his skull. His lungs seem to want to give up on him and he could swear his heart is making a desperate attempt to break through his rib cage.

Brody could not speak. His mouth would not work and wishing for his riffle would do him no good for he is sure he could not move his fingers now anyway. Abu Nazir. Brody finds himself looking at Abu Nazir, 60 feet, 50 feet, and still coming closer. 40 feet, 20 feet. Brody expects him to stop there, but he doesn't. He comes until he is standing practically nose to nose with him. He is staring into the eyes of one of America's most high priority targets. Nazir stares at him for a long while. Brody may not be able to defend himself or do anything to hurt Nazir, but he'd be damned if he is going to cower. He draws himself up as fully as he can. He is taller than Nazir. He forces himself to meet Nazir's gaze and not blink.

After several moments Nazir does something Brody is not expecting. He smiles and then steps back from him. Looking over Brody's shoulder at the man, he speaks in English, "this is the one that refused to talk?"

"Yes", the man replies, digging his gun into Brody's back as though he took personal offence to that.

Nazir nods his head, looks back at Brody appraising him again and then says loudly to the whole court yard, "he will do." He turns on his heels and marches away.

Brody does not understand what. 'Do for what' he wonders to himself, panicked. As he goes to verbalise those words, he hears movement and a thud, feels an ache across the back of his skull and knows only darkness.