Hello everybody! Did you guys enjoy the first episode of the new season of Flashpoint last night? It's awesome, right? That was a great start to a great last season, I'm sure. Can't wait for the next coming episodes.

Okay, back to fanfic. As I've promised before, here's the sequel to 'The Lie'. This particular story is a bit complicated for me to write, so please bear with me along the way. To those who enjoys Sam's whump, you might like this one (I hope ^_^). Anyway, happy reading!

Summary : Sequel to The Lie. Sam is once more abducted. However, not everything is as what it seems.

"Hey, Sam. Wait up."

"Leave me alone, Jules," Sam replied without even a break in his stride. He had just emerged from the men's locker room with a gym bag carelessly slung over one shoulder.

"What do you mean, leave you alone?" Jules stubbornly persisted, dogging his every step.

"That's exactly what it means. I need to be alone. Is that so hard to understand?" he snapped at her.

She was taken aback. "Why?"

"I need some space, okay? Do I need any reasons for that?"

"No. I mean, why this sudden strange mood? Why are you being so cranky?"

"I'm not cranky. It's just…" Sam stopped and rounded on her, pursing his lips with clear irritation on his face. "It's nothing. Stay away, Jules. Just leave me be."

"I won't leave you be. Something is obviously wrong and I need to know."

"Nothing is wrong." Shaking his head, he whirled around to resume walking.

She reached out for him. "Sam…"

"Stay away, Jules! Stop being such a bitch." With that parting shot, he left her standing there with her mouth hanging open.

Almost instantly, the rest of Team One hurried over to gather around their female teammate.

"Jules, what the hell's going on?" Parker was quick to ask, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You guys fighting?" Spike asked next. "We could hear the shouting from the locker room."

Still stunned, she shook her head. "I don't know. Are we fighting?"

Raf frowned. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him to wait up, and I asked him what's wrong." She shrugged, looking more than slightly hurt. "I don't know what pisses him off. He wouldn't tell me."

"Sam has been strangely quiet the whole day, hasn't he?" Parker remarked. "That's not like him at all."

Ed narrowed his eyes, not looking real pleased. "I'll go and talk to him."

"No, Ed. That's okay," Jules said with a sad smile. "Let's just wait until he cools down."

"I'm not gonna wait until he cools down," Ed retorted. "We all heard what he said to you just now. That was totally uncalled for."

"He just wants to be left alone, so let's leave him alone. Ed?"

But Team One's team leader was already moving. He walked with fast determined strides down the hallway towards the HQ exit and headed straight for the parking lot. He found Sam already at his car.

"Hey, Braddock," Ed called out. "What's the big deal back there?"

Sam turned. Upon seeing Ed, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, please. Not you too. Why can't you guys just leave me alone? Is that too much to ask?"

Barely able to contain his rage, Ed moved closer until he and Sam were standing chest to chest. "Sure, we all will leave you alone if that's what you really want. But you don't have to act like a mean bastard about it. Especially to Jules."

For a split second, Ed noticed a glimmer of remorse in the younger man's blue eyes. But it was very brief, gone almost as sudden as it appeared.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam nonchalantly replied with an easy shrug, turning to dump his gym bag into his SUV.

Ed grabbed him by the arm. "Braddock, I'm not finished—"

The move was so lightning fast that Ed didn't know he went flying until he hit the ground. As he lay there wheezing for breath, Ed looked up at his teammate with deep chagrin when he realized what just happened. Sam had effortlessly thrown him down, judo style.

"Keeps your hands off me, Ed," Sam grimly said. "And stay away."

He looked up as Jules and the men came approaching. Softly, he added, "Tell her to stay away too. I mean it."

Blinking, Ed slowly pulled himself upright and watched as Sam got behind the wheel. "Sam, buddy, what's going on? Can't you at least talk to me?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"If you're in trouble, if you need any help…"

Sam scoffed without humor. "I'm not your little brother, Ed. Just leave me alone."

Slamming the door shut, he then switched on the engine and stepped on the gas, leaving a strip of black rubber in his wake. His car had already cleared the main gate when the rest of the team finally reached Ed's side at a run.

"Ed, you're okay? Are you hurt?" They assisted the team leader to his feet, even though he was fully capable doing so on his own power.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just suffering from a bruised pride," Ed replied, brushing dirt off his jacket. "I shouldn't have yanked at him like that. That teaches me not to mess with an ex-Special Forces."

"What in the world is wrong with him?" Spike wondered out loud. "He's not himself at all. Has Samtastic suddenly turned lunatic?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Parker ruefully said with a meaningful look at Jules. "Has Sam been acting strange lately?"

She was a bit sad when she replied, "I'm not sure, Boss. Mostly he seems fine to me. I notice that he has been quite subdued following his abduction, sometimes even short-tempered, but this is the first time that he really lost it. Maybe he's not ready to be on full duty yet."

The rest of the team nodded, for they understood what she meant. They could never forget those awful things that had happened to Sam just three weeks ago.

Sam was with his father on their way back to Ottawa to see his ailing mother when their cavalcade suddenly came under attack by a group of armed and dangerous men. General Braddock was wounded, while his son had been taken away into an abandoned building outside of town. There, those men had tortured Sam for hours to get the information about a missing nuclear warhead, but not before he found out that Matt Walsh, his best friend whom he had accidently shot dead in Kandahar, was still alive and actually sharing the holding cell with him. He also found out that it was his own father, the General, who had been the mastermind behind the staging of Matt's death. And then, on the very same night that Matt had returned into his life, Sam's best friend truly died for shielding him against a hail of bullets.

After he was rescued, Sam had spent over a week on sick leave to recuperate, body and mind. He had been back on duty for several days now, after he had assured everyone that he was perfectly fine and in good shape to kick butts. He appeared so on the surface, a real tough guy all around. But even Superman had a breaking point. Sooner or later, something would cause Sam to snap.

And that was what Team One feared most, that Sam had finally snapped.

"You think he'll be alright by himself?" Spike asked, the concerned for his mate clearly etched on his pleasant features.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Parker responded. "I think it's as what he said, he just wants to be left alone. So we shall give him some space."

"And tomorrow, after he has calmed down and returns to shift, we can all give him hell," Raf suggested.

"Not before I give him hell first," Jules hotly remarked. She still looked a tad pale, but at least she had recovered from her shock. She and Sam constantly bickered, as it made their relationship more exciting, but their fighting never crossed the line. And yet tonight, his unexpected behavior seriously scared her. Sam had never been so harsh to her before, had never been so cruel.

"Jules." Spike's voice interrupted her musings.

"Yeah?"

"You need a ride?" the team's tech expert was saying. "You both drove in together this morning, right?"

"Oh, yes. Sure, Spike. I could use a ride. Thanks."

"Good, let's go." Draping an arm around her shoulders, Spike ushered her towards his car a hundred yards away with Raf following close behind. "We'll drive to your house before I drop Raf at his club."

"You've got a gig tonight, Raf?"

"Just a short one, maybe for a few numbers," Raf replied. "Hey, wanna stay and see me perform?"

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Come on, Jules. It'll be fun. We get to unwind."

Parker and Ed didn't catch her response to that when those three moved further away. Turning to the Sergeant, Ed said, "Sam is hiding something."

Parker resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward. "Like father, like son. Okay, what do you think he is up to now?"

"I have no idea, Boss. But Sam is really persistent that everyone stays the hell away from him."

"And he gets his wishes."

"Exactly."

Frowning, Parker grew thoughtful. "You think he's in trouble?"

"I asked him that but he instantly clams up, not giving me anything." Shaking his head, Ed crossed his arms with a sigh. "The Sam I know would never hurt Jules, or even me. Then why is he acting this way?"

"He's not an emotionless robot, Ed. What Sam went through the last few weeks would drive a normal man to madness. Maybe he just…well, snaps."

"We can't let this go on."

"No, we won't. I'll talk to him tomorrow. If he's really not fit for duty yet, and that his judgment has been affected, I will suggest that he takes a long leave of absence."

"He's not gonna be happy."

"He's not happy now."

Ed gave the Sergeant a pointed look. "We need him, Greg."

"I know, Eddie. I know."

As the two SRU officers continued to commiserate about a teammate gone maverick, the man being discussed was driving through town at a steady pace about ten kilometers away. Sam reached across to grab a cellphone from inside the dashboard. It was a safe phone, highly untraceable, which connected only to one number. He hit speed dial and waited for the call to get through.

"Hey, it's me," he said when the call was picked up.

"So how did it go?" asked the man on the other line.

"It went well. Too well, I'm afraid."

"Never mind," the other man calmly said. "It's time to focus. Any minute now."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. I'm almost home."

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as can be."

After several heartbeats of silence, the other man said in a quiet voice, "Good luck, son."

"Thanks, Dad. I won't let you down."

"I know. I have complete faith in you, Sammy."

Ringing off, Sam shoved the phone back into the dashboard and pressed down the accelerator. Minutes afterwards, he arrived at his apartment complex. He then took the elevator to reach his floor. Taking his time unlocking the door, he looked to the left and right. The hallway was clear.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Dumping his gym bag on the couch, he peeled off his leather jacket and walked to the fridge. He grabbed a can of cold beer and took several gulps. Through the corner of his eye, he saw slight movement to his left.

He moved.

Spinning on the balls of his feet, Sam pitched the beer can with all his might, hitting the sneaking man smack in the forehead. The man stumbled back, but two more men emerged from their hiding spaces behind the kitchen counter and the bedroom. Instead of running for the door to escape, Sam rushed towards them with flying scissoring kicks. Both men staggered from the blow to their heads.

The first man returned to attack with a gun in his hand. Side stepping, Sam leaned forward and grabbed his assailant's elbow, giving it a vicious twist until the man dropped the weapon. Sam kicked hard at the back of the man's knee, shoving him to the floor.

Behind him, the two men were coming at him again. Sam crouched lower and swiped his legs against their feet to tumble them off. But like him, they were highly trained. They easily leapt before advancing once more. With a swift roll over his head towards the kitchen, Sam yanked a knife out of the block. Wielding it as weapon, he put up a stance and watched as the three men warily approached him.

"Someone's going to get badly hurt tonight," he said with a mocking smile.

One of the men also grinned. "Yeah. You."

They simultaneously rushed him. Sam swung the knife at the nearest assailant, cutting a long line down the man's chest, causing him to yelp and step back. Whirling around, Sam went for the other guy. The man ducked under the knife to tackle Sam around the waist. They both went down. The knife went skittering out of Sam's grip.

Growling with anger, Sam yanked up his knees and kicked the man in the sternum. The man wouldn't budge, for he was more muscular and heavier than Sam. With a harsh cry, Sam slammed both heels of his palms against his assailant's ears. The man dropped away, howling.

The fight was far from over. The third guy had come from behind, wrapping an arm around Sam's neck, holding him immobilize. Sam realized he had only seconds before the choke hold would render him unconscious. Writhing with pain, he reached up and used his fingers to jab into the man's eyes.

The man screamed. Sam followed with quick double elbow jabs and scrambled away from the man's flagging grip. Coughing from the sudden rush of air into his throat, Sam crouched and got ready to leap at the other two guys. Before he could do so however, the door suddenly swung open and a fourth person appeared. This newcomer was a tall man wearing an overcoat over an immaculate suit. He was young, about Sam's age. He was also holding a gun, aiming straight at Sam.

"You're coming with us," the distinguished man said.

Sam bared his teeth and barked, "Never!"

The man squeezed the trigger. A dart flew off to hit Sam in the neck. Staggering, he reached up with a trembling hand to yank out the dart. Sam's vision was quickly growing bleary, yet he could still recognize what the dart was intended for.

"Drugged…"

Sam was already unconscious even before he crumpled onto the floor.

A couple of hours had passed when Sam slowly came around.

Just like when he was abducted three weeks ago, he found himself strapped to a chair in a dimly lit room. Only the difference was, he was alone this time. There was no Matt to come back from the dead to share his captivity. His best friend was well and truly gone.

Groaning from the nauseating aftereffects of the drug, Sam looked down at himself. He had been stripped naked, leaving him completely in the bare. The air felt cold against his exposed skin. His wrists were lashed together behind his back, while his ankles were tied to each chair leg. He realized that it would be a futile attempt to free himself from the efficient restraints, so he conserved his energy and just sat still. He waited.

It was not a long wait, as if his captors already expected him to wake up. The man who had shot Sam entered the room, no longer wearing his overcoat. Two of his men also followed, one of them carrying a laptop. The other one was carrying a role of clothes line.

Clearing his throat, the man took a seat in a chair facing Sam. At his slight nod, his man placed the opened laptop onto the table next to him.

As the man was about to speak, Sam beat him to it, "Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Beaten, bound and naked, and yet you still want to get acquainted? I'm impressed."

"I must know the person I'm going to kill."

"You kill me? You do realize I'm not the one being captive here, do you?" His grey eyes twinkling with mirth, the man put out his hand as if offering for a shake. "I'm Ross, at your service, Master Corporal Braddock. Oops, sorry, I forgot that you're all tied up. My bad."

Without turning a hair, Sam sent him a gimlet stare. "What do you want from me?"

"Oh, I think you knew what we want from you." Reaching for the laptop, Ross turned it around until Sam could have a clear look. A jumble of digital sequences appeared on the background of the screen, with a command instruction box placed smack dab in the middle. The command was asking for passcodes.

"You know what this is?" Ross asked him.

Sam swallowed. Of course, he knew what it was. The last time he saw it, he was sitting at his father's office in the nation's military HQ in Ottawa. The digital sequences were the coordinates and activation codes for a missing nuclear warhead that Matt had managed to pass to Sam in a form of a tiny microchip before he got killed. In order to protect millions of lives, Matt had died hiding the damning material. And now Sam found out that it had finally fallen into the wrong hands.

"I asked you, do you know what this is?" Ross started to lose his smile.

Putting up an innocent air, Sam replied, "The screensaver from 'The Matrix' movie?"

With a slight signal from Ross, the man with the rope stepped behind Sam. He loped the cord around Sam's neck and pulled tight. Sam could hardly breathe. After two minutes, the man slackened the rope so that air could rush into Sam's lungs once again.

"Let's try this one more time," said Ross, still looking calm. "Do you know what this is?"

Wearily, Sam nodded. "Yes. You knew I do."

"Good. Why was that so hard to admit then?"

"How did you get it?"

Ross shrugged. "I have my sources."

"A traitor among us, you mean."

"Nope, merely an opportunist." The man just grinned. "But here's a snag. We have the information, but everything is encrypted. We found out only you know the passcodes, as you were the one who set it up together with that tech genius from your father's secret team…um…what do they call that guy?"

"Brainy Brian."

"Ah, yes. Brainy Brian. We thought we could grab him and make him spill the beans but his location is currently classified. Must be sitting somewhere in a foreign soil in another black op, I guess. But you, you are easy picking. You run all over the city, playing cop, without a care to anything, carrying the deadly info in your head. You're too cocky for your own good, Sammy."

"Don't call me that," Sam said, gritting his teeth.

"Why? Because only your family and friends can call you that way? Aw, what's wrong, Sammy boy? Feel like pissing in your pants now? Oh, wait. You're not wearing any pants."

Ross and his men laughed as Sam's face reddened with humiliation.

As their laughter died down, Ross' expression grew serious as he said next, "What's the passcodes, Braddock? Tell us now, and we will give you a swift and merciless death."

"Go throw yourself under a bus."

Frowning, Ross gave his man another signal. The rope tightened around Sam's neck once more.

Minutes passed. Black spots started to appear in Sam's vision but he held on though it was extremely unbearable. After what seemed like hours, the rope loosened and Sam desperately gasped for air.

"Tell me the passcodes."

"Kiss my ass first."

And the process continued on with Sam still refusing to give out the secret, no matter how excruciating the pain was. After the fourth attempt, which was the longest time they held the rope against his throat, Sam was completely drained of all energy. He had been convulsing and shuddering as if in a fit when his air was being cut off. And now he slowly felt himself growing faint.

Someone slapped him in the face, yanking him back to awareness.

"Don't you dare sleep on me, Braddock!" Ross shouted, already standing. "Answer my question. Then I'll let you sleep forever."

"I have nothing…to say…to you." Sam heard the weakness in his voice as he said this. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, and yet he still prevailed. "Go…to hell."

With an annoyed grunt, Ross grabbed the laptop and strode out of the room after nudging one of his men to follow him. Sam went in and out of consciousness, so it felt like a very short while later when Ross and his man returned, hefting a tall basin of water between them.

"Know what, Braddock? It's you who's going to hell," Ross said, putting down the heavy basin. Turning to his men, he ordered, "Do it."

The two strong men lifted Sam off the floor, chair and all. The tilted him upside down and dunked his head underwater.

Panicked, Sam jerked and trashed repeatedly as he struggled for release. Unfortunately, he was no match against his bonds and his captors. These men were trying to drown him, he realized with absolute horror. Within minutes, Sam's movement grew less and less frantic until he stopped moving altogether.

Operation Virus had officially begun.

TBC...

Yikes. What have I done here? Oh, no no. Don't kill me yet. You wanna know what happens next right?

Uh... right?