I know, I know. I'm posting another story? Well, honestly, I've had most of this one planned for a long time, sitting on my flash drive just waiting for me to post it. So, I hope you guys like it. Please let me know what you think. It's only the first chapter, so most of it is setting thing up, giving you information. There will be about three chapters kind of like this one, more set up chapters than anything, but they are important.
Again though, I hope you enjoy and please review and let me know what you think. Thanks!

Chapter 1
Ab Ovo

As her green eyes opened Jamie saw the same thing that she had seen every day when she woke up for almost year. Concrete walls, concrete floors, and one wall that was just bars besides the barred door that was built into it. Just beyond that barred door and wall was a concrete hallway that she had been dragged down time after time again. She wasn't stuck in that cell all the time, sometimes she was stuck in a lab, but whenever she did get to sleep or was knocked out, she always woke back up in that very room.

Private Jamie Roe of the U.S. Marine Corps had been held hostage for almost a year from what she counted. It could've been more, could've been less, but there wasn't really a way for her to be sure. All she knew was that she had been there a long time. Long enough where people stopped looking for her and the platoon. They were most likely pronounced dead. She didn't blame them if they had. They had been gone for a long time.

And most of the people in the platoon were dead. She knew that for curtain. Her cell was the last one in their hallways, right next to the furnace that heated the facility they were being held in. That was where they threw the dead bodies. Jamie had seen far too many people from her platoon being dragged there, their bodies lifeless. She had smelt far too much burning flesh. Nobody should've had to go through that. Never.

However, Jamie knew she wasn't the last one either. On the other end of that hallway of cells was another door and hallways. To get to the labs they had to bring her down that hallway and when they did that, she could see the other cells and the people who were in them. Most of her squad was dead, but there was one other person from her squad that was still there.

Private Roe and Corporal Aaron Sanders were two of the only five survivors of the experiments being down to their platoon. The other three were Master Sergeant Henry Scott, Sergeant Patrick Hendricks, and Private James Roberts. She was the only female of the three that had been there.

It was all about her genes too. The experiments they were conducting were only capable of working if someone had the right genes. Whatever her coding was, it was working. She was surviving and she had no idea why. Why her and not someone else? Why just those five people? Why were they alive?

And why were the people doing it to them anyways? Jamie had assumed that they were members of al-Qaeda. She assumes they were conducting the experiments because they wanted to find a way to fight back. They were desperate and needed to find some way to do what they were doing. And what better way to perfect their tests than to test it on the enemy, killing dozens in the process before it was safe to use on themselves?

Jamie's head snapped to the side as she heard the door on the other end of the hall slam open. That was the side with the labs. That meant one of three things. One: they were coming to take one of them for the tests. Two: they were bringing someone back to their cell. The last one was the one she dreaded most. Three: they were bringing another dead comrade to the furnace. She prayed to God it wasn't the last one.

There was an unsettling sound though. It was the sound of dragging. That only left choices two or three. That didn't make Jamie feel any better. That was when she caught sight of two armed guards dragging a body past her. It was the worst of the two. Another one of them was dead. Now there were only four of them and another family back in the states that would never see their loved one again. Not that Jamie or the others really believed that they were ever going to get out of there.

Jamie got up from the floor and walked over to the bars, grasping them with her hands to steady herself so that she wouldn't fall over. She had to see who it was. She needed to know. The person had short blonde hair that was filthy, making it look almost brown. His skin was just as filthy. However, the moment she saw the small scar on the man's face, just under his right eyes, she knew who it was. It was Master Sergeant Henry Scott.

Jamie didn't know MSgt Scott very well. She had been in Captain Martin's – who had been dead for several months now – squad, but she had seen him work. He was a devoted man. He was great at his job and she admired him. Now he was gone. He didn't deserve that. None of them deserved what they were doing to them.

As they went into the furnace room, Jamie moved back to the wall and slid down it until she was sitting in the dirt. She couldn't help but let out a sigh. One by one they were all dying. There wasn't anything she could do about it either. If she could've, then she would've, but she was in just as bad of condition as the rest of the men that were there.

Just the four of them. That was all that was left of the 28 people in their platoon. Just four.

The furnace room door opened once more and the two guards walked out, guns in hand. Instead of walking all the way back down the hall they stopped at Jamie's cell door and opened it. They grabbed her forcefully by her forearms and dragged her out. She could hear her cell door swing shut, just as she had every time they took her out. She always wished it'd be the last time she had to hear it. Not in the sense that she wanted to die (However, in a ways she did. Just to get away from the torture and pain.) but in the sense that she could go home.

The two guards were speaking. She couldn't understand them, but she had figured out that they were speaking Arabic. She could speak English, – of course – French, Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Chinese, German, and Italian, but not Arabic. She had lived all over the world growing up. Her father had been a Marine as well. That and it was just easy for her to pick up on the languages in classes growing up.

As she was being dragged, Jamie caught a glimpse Patrick Hendricks. He was sitting against the back wall of his cell, just like she had been doing so earlier. His brown eyes were staring down at the floor. She knew he had seen the guards dragging out MSgt Scott. He had known him for years. She had known that much. And seeing your friends die off one by one was painful not only mentally, but also physically. She knew how he was feeling. However, he was the last one from his squad. Everyone else: Private Roberts and Corporal Sanders were both from her squad. She didn't know what it was like to be the last one from your squad alive and she really hoped she didn't have to find out.

She also got a peek into Roberts, Henderson and Sanders' cells. Even though they had seen Scott being dragged by, they still managed to look at her as she was dragged away. They were giving her looks of sympathy and wishing her luck, just hoping she'd be okay. Hendricks used to give her that look, but she could tell he was broken.

Jamie had seen that broken look far too much as well. Every time someone got that look, it wasn't long before it was them that were being dragged to the furnace. That was unsettling. A lot of things were unsettling where they were. She was surprised she wasn't like that yet. Really, she didn't know what was keeping her from going insane like a lot of their platoon had. Maybe she was stronger than them? Maybe she was just heartless…Either way, she was alive. She didn't know for how long though.

The young soldier was taken to a room she had never been to before, but she made sure to not each hallway they took to get there. She may have been trapped there for almost a year, but she was still a Marine and she had hope. Not a lot, but enough where she kept her guard up. Once a soldier, always a soldier. She had to keep going. For the sake of her country and the lives of the three men still with her.

Jamie was strapped into what looked like a dentist's chair and was left there by the two guards. She didn't know where they were going, but she was left there all alone. She tried tugging on the leather straps that had around her wrists and her ankles, but she was weak. She could barely walk when she went to the bars to see who had passed away that time. It was understandable though. They barely fed them and the experiments were torture.

It was hell to say the least.

Waiting there didn't help. Jamie hated to feel exposed and weak and that was exactly what she was. There was nothing she could do for herself. No way to protect herself. She was just their little play things. She was there at their disposal. Whatever they wanted to do to her, they could because she couldn't defend herself like she usually always could.

Suddenly the door opened and a small man walked in. He had no hair, much like the rest of the men who were guards there, but this man was too small to be a guard. Considering his arms had little muscle on them, it was understandable that she thought that. He was also a lot skinnier and dirtier than the rest of the men around there, even the men who weren't the guards like the scientists.

It spiked her curiosity. This guy was knew and by the looks of it, the expression on his face was what tipped her off the most, he wasn't there because he wanted to be. So they sort of had something in common. However, she wasn't going to say that out loud because what did she know really?

The man walked over to the sink and walked his hands. After doing so he put on a pair of rubber gloves and walked over to the little wheeling stool that was at the desk across the room. He kicked it over to the chair Jamie was strapped to and sat in it in front of her, looking her straight in the eyes.

The man had dark brown eyes that almost looked black from the way the light was shining in the room. She just stared intently at him, giving him no emotion. Well, a glare was showing hatred and anger, but she didn't let them see how broken she really was. How each minute they were there she was losing hope. It was a surprise that she had any left seeing as she had been there for that long of a duration.

"Hello," he said. He had a very thick Arab accent.

Well, Jamie though. It's kind of refreshing to have someone speaking English. She thought that, but she didn't really show much else of an expression on her face. Yes, maybe a little confusion, but honestly, who wouldn't when they were in her position and someone walking in and just says hello like nothing was really wrong? It was unbelievable.

"My name is Amir," he introduced. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees while his hands were clasped together. "I am a doctor." He shrugged like it was nothing important. He shifted uncomfortably once again, sitting up straight this time and crossing his legs, his hands still folded, but resting in his lap. "I am new."

Well, I can see that, Jamie thought bitterly.

"What is your name?" he asked. A curious look was on his face.

Does he think he's my pal? She asked herself. What's the point of this? I'm just their experiment. My name isn't important to them. Since he didn't get a response and her glare was still holding steady, he cleared his throat and shifted once again. She was pleased that she was making him so uncomfortable.

"Okay," he said, leaning forward like he had the first time. "I am going to be frank with you on this. I do not want to be here."

That's obvious.

"And I know you do not either."

That's even more obvious.

"So, I am going to be truthful and tell you that I am here against my will as well."

That spiked her curiosity. What did he mean he was there against his will? She wasn't buying it. They were just telling her that to get their trust, to trick her. Yet, why would they do that? They didn't need her trust for anything. No matter what, they were going to conduct their little project on her and continue to torture them all. Sooner or later they would all be dead from the conditions they were being kept in. It was a wonder how they hadn't died so far.

"I see you are confused," Amir stated. "I just wanted to let you know that we are alike."

She couldn't hold back on that one. "We are nothing alike," she spat. Her throat was hoarse and dry from lack of water. It was also much colder than she remembered it being. However, it was understandable. She hadn't spoken in months. The only sound that had come out of her mouth was occasional screams of pain from the torture they put her through.

"Ah," he said, shaking his pointed finger at her. "That is where you are wrong, child. You see, I am a good doctor. And since I am a good doctor, these bad men," he shook his head before continuing, "these bad, bad men have taken my wife and child. They are holding them here and if I do not do what they want, they will kill them."

By his tone and expression alone made the girl freeze. Jamie still held her stare, but it was no longer a glare. It was more of just shock and pure tiredness. He was telling the truth. She could tell. She was very good at catching liars. And this man, this Dr. Amir, he was telling the truth and she didn't like it. The poor man. The child…that woman…She didn't like to think of that.

Still not getting a response, Amir stood up and took his gloves off. "All right," he sighed. "I just wanted to introduce myself and to tell you my side of the story." He walked over to the door and was about to open it, but stopped to turn to the girl one last time to say, "All right, I will see you tomorrow."

What Jamie didn't know was that once Amir started to work there, things would be different. Maybe not better, but very, very different.

The week following Amir's employment Jamie was taken out of her cell far more frequently by their captors. Amir explained to her that he was going to be checking up on her, as well as running several tests to see why she was so compatible with what they were doing to her. She didn't understand why it was so important. It was all torture in her mind, as well as her fellow soldiers. She didn't care why she was still alive, she just wanted to get out of there and actually live.

"You see, I am not fully sure of what I am to be looking for myself," Amir explained to the girl, who was, once again, strapped to her chair while the man listened to her heartbeat. The man sat back, removing his stethoscope and hanging it around his neck. "Mm, steady and strong," he muttered. "That is good."

Amir spun around in his chair, one of those kinds of wheelie chairs children always loved to play on, spinning around in circles. However, Amir merely turned around to the desk and wrote down with his left hand his findings in the folder with all of Jamie's records in it.

Jamie stared at him from behind. She still didn't know what to think of the man. He had been nothing but good to her and that confused her greatly. Yes, he claimed that his family was being held hostage. But how could she be sure he was telling the truth? How could she trust anything the man said to her?

"Have you been having any headaches? Nauseous?" Amir asked, turning back to the girl. "Some insomnia?"

Jamie narrowed her green eyes. Of course she had headaches, nausea and insomnia! She was a prisoner being experimented on! She had those constantly from the lack of food, the fear and whatever drugs they were giving her. It was foolish to think otherwise.

Amir sighed, obviously receiving her glare as the answer to all three. "I wish you would speak to me," he admitted. "It would make this much easier, I assure you."

Easier for you, Jamie thought. I'm going to end up dead either way. Might as well make this more difficult for everybody on your side.

"You are a wonder," he told her matter of fact. "I do not understand you."

What wasn't there to understand? She was rude because of the circumstances. She had every right to be. She was going to die whether or not she was polite or rude. They had killed so many of her fellow comrades in arms. Being rude was the easiest choice of the two. It was the only act of defiance she had left.

"With the amount of stress alone is enough to kill a person," he continued. "With the added toxins from the drugs they administer to you and your fellow soldiers, I am surprised that there are a few of you that remain." He sighed, closing the file on the desk. He leaned forward, his elbows resting against his knees. "If I had read it on paper, I would not have believed such a thing. Yet, here you and your comrades are. Defying my logic. And you," he emphasized, pointing at the girl, "you are extraordinary."

Amir turned, looking at several of the files opened on the table behind him. "Those men out there are what I would have pictured a specimen to look like with the toxins ingested. They are what I expected to examine. You," he muttered, turning back to point at her, "You look healthy, strong even. You're body seems to be taking in these toxins and converting them into useful material. That is why these bad men are so interested in you."

Healthy? Healthy? How could she possibly be healthy? She had never felt worse! How could he possibly think she was getting stronger in that hellhole?

"From what I hear, they want to intensify their experiment," Amir said. "Only on you, as whatever is working for you, is not for your friends. I believe they plan on disposing of them."

"Disposing," Jamie muttered in disgust. "You make it sound like they're trash. They're not. They're living people. We are living people!"

"I am aware of this," he stated. "It is why I am here; to ensure your survival."

"To," Jamie muttered, her words trailing off in disbelief. The woman scoffed. "To ensure my survival? What about them? Huh? What about their lives?"

"I will do my best to ensure that their health improves," he informed her.

"Oh you will, will you?" Jamie scoffed. "Well, forgive me if I don't believe you."

"You are forgiven," he said, as if what she said hadn't been rhetorical. "If I were in your position, I would not believe me either. That is why I plan on proving my point to you. I will do my best to ensure all of you survive."

I can only hope you're telling the truth.

Bombs going off and gunfire always set Jamie's adrenaline into overdrive. But she was used to it. It was something she could handle perfectly fine. Running into a building with hostile fire? No problem. She'd get the job done. Having to put down a dog that had taken to human flesh from deceased people? Hard, but doable. Showing up the men in their platoon with her sniper skills? Extremely satisfying.

What she couldn't handle were needles.

And that was what Jamie had to deal with every day while she was in captivity. Needles to administer drugs. Needles to take blood. Needles on highly sensitive pressure points (for what she assumed were her torture methods as well as research in some sick way).

She was having a substantial amount of blood taken that day, Amir was sitting next to her in his swivel chair, her arms and legs tied down as he worked. Jamie had her green eyes squeezed shut, biting her lip as she tried to focus on anything other that the little needle in her vien.

"Not a fan of needles, I see," Amir muttered with a small chuckle. "Neither is my daughter."

Amir talked about his daughter and wife quite often. So much so that Jamie was starting to believe that he actually had a family, and that there was a slight chance he was telling her the truth about his situation. Which mean, if she was ever going to escape with the rest of her men, she was going to have to worry about getting Amir and his family out safely too.

"What's she like?" Jamie asked, trying to distract herself.

"Hm?" he sounded, looking back up at the girl. "What is my Dunya like?" he asked. "Well, she is quiet. She enjoys reading. She is very intelligent."

"Your wife?" Jamie pressed.

"My wife is beautiful," Amir stated, a far off look in his eyes. "Her name is Rima. It was an arranged marriage, but I do love her. She has made me a better man." He cleared his throat, looking back up at the girl questioningly. "And yourself? Are you married?"

"No," Jamie stated.

"Do you have any other family?" he asked. "They must miss you."

"No," she answered. Her mother, whom she had only seen pictures of had died of breast cancer when she was two. The only reason she knew what she looked like was from the picture her dad had of the whole family, shortly after Jamie was born. After that, her mother didn't like her picture taken, seeing as she was frail, visibly weak and had lost all of her long curly brown hair. Her father and brother had both been deployed after 9/11 and both had died in duty. "Nobody."

"I am sorry to hear that," he told her. "What about those men? Are they not like your family?"

"I suppose you could say that," Jamie thought. "We have each others backs."

The man slowly took out the needle, replacing it with a cotton swab and a bandage. "And there," Amir said. "That was not so bad, was it?"

"It's better than the drugs," Jamie admitted.

"I suppose you are correct," he sighed. "I am very sorry about this, child."

"You and me both, Doctor," Jamie muttered.

Jamie was getting used to having her blood taken. She still hated needles, but she found talking to Amir helped distract her enough that she could ignore it. It wasn't all that smart of her to do, seeing as she really didn't know the man, and whatever she told him could eventually be used against her in some way if he wasn't who he said, or if the other people on base overheard.

"It's a two way mirror, isn't it," Jamie stated, starting at the large mirror almost covering the entire wall to her right. She always hated that it was there. For one, whoever was behind it could see and hear her without her knowing. And she also got to see just how terrible she looked.

Her cheeks were sunken in from the inadequate, nutrition. Her skin pale from the lack of sunlight, though due to the abundance of dirt and grime caking her skin, she appeared to have a deep, uneven tan. The 125 lbs girl had lost nearly thirty pounds, making her around 90 lbs. Under her green bloodshot eyes were black bags from the stress and lack of sleep.

"That it is," Amir informed her. "The guards wait in there to retrieve you when I finish."

"What about the man in charge?" Jamie asked. "Does he ever stay in there? Watching us?"

"Very rarely," he admitted. "He does not leave his lab often."

He makes everybody else do his dirty work, Jamie thought. "What does he want?" the woman basically begged.

"I do not know," Amir answered. "I do not know why he does this to you."

"I just don't get it," she muttered, looking down at her skinny fingers. "Nothing's happening to me. All this stuff does is make us sick and weak. If he wanted to kill us, it would have been more effective to torture us, unless that's what this is. There are better way of torture."

"I do not believe it is intended to be torture," Amir thought. "Why would I be here if it was?"

"That's a good point," she said. "I just wish I could understand what everybody's saying, you know?"

"I could teach you, if you are interested," Amir offered.

Jamie quickly looked up at Amir. "Really?" she asked. "You'd do that?"

"Of course," he said.

"Thank you," Jamie thanked. "How many of them speak English?"

"Very few," Amir admitted. "In fact, I believe I am one of the only people, other than you soldiers, that is fluent in English. Though my wife and daughter, of course, can speak it. My daughter more so than my wife. She truly is a brilliant girl."

That's interesting, Jamie thought. She figured it was useful information to know. Her conversations with Amir were private because they couldn't understand English. Whatever was said between the American soldiers wouldn't be understood. She didn't know what she would do with that information yet, but it was definitely something.

For the most part, silence was the only thing present in the air in the cells. Sometimes the screams from the torture could be heard echoing through the hall, and occasionally the Arabic words from patrolling guards were here, but not understood. Jamie, little by little, was starting to understand the language though, with Amir's help. She couldn't really speak it yet, but she could understand basic things of what people said, which lead her to putting the rest of what they were saying altogether.

However, every once in a while, one of them would break down and start screaming. They'd panic, demand to be set free. And the rest of the soldiers couldn't blame them. It was surprising how much sanity they held onto, for not being able to see the outside world, and to be tested on day in and day out.

That didn't mean the breakdowns were any less annoying and troublesome. One of the people, shortly after they had first been taken captive, had such a freak out that the guard shot them on the spot before dragging them down to the furnace. After that, the panic attacks weren't as frequent, but they still occurred.

It was Aaron that was having the freak out this time around. Jamie sat up against one of the cold walls, her head back, gently banging against it as she silently wished for the older soldier to shut his mouth. She couldn't see into the men's cell, and she was slightly thankful that she wasn't being kept in there with them. She knew it had to be much louder in that small cell than it was where she was located.

"Hey, I know you can hear me! Let me out! You can't keep me here! I want to go home! Let me go, Goddammit. I'm not your lab rat! I'm a human being! I have family, same as you! You wouldn't do this to them, would you? Hey, get me out of here!"

"Shut up, Aaron," Patrick grumbled.

"No, how can you just sit there? We have to get out of here! They're going to kill us. How can you just sit there and not help? Well, I'm not doing nothing. I'm gonna get out of here. I still have my whole life ahead of me. I want to get married and have kids and move to the country and have a farm with cows and horses an-"

"Well get out of here," Jamie said, breaking her silence.

"You don't know that," James said from the other cell.

"I do," Jamie corrected. "Because that's what we have to believe. What else do we have, you know? We've got our dog tags, the clothes on our bodies, memories and each other. That's it. To the rest of the world we're dead right now, but we're not. So we're going to have to change that, aren't we?"

Jame shifted so that she could look out of the small barred window. It was nighttime, so the stars were clear and visible in the sky above them. "I won't let them keep us here forever," she stated. "I promise, we'll get out of here, one way or another."