Six Months Later..
The chains binding Miller's wrists and ankles to the floor anchor rattled, giving off a sharp metallic ring that bounced off the bare concrete walls.
It had been six long months since the bloody ambush at JFK Airport. And since then, Miller had not seen the light of day.
Miller sat perfectly still on the freezing metal bench, his chest rising and falling beneath his orange jumpsuit. His jaw, broken by Mr. Fixer's had knitted back together crookedly. The slight tilt gave his scarred face an even meaner, uglier look.
The steel door clicked and groaned open. Special Agent Sabrina West walked in. Her face was unreadable as she marched over and slammed a thick leather file onto the bolted table, the impact sending a shudder straight up Miller's chains.
