He was in full swing one moment, fighting as hard as he could. He was no longer the trained killer that training was supposed to have made him made, he fought like a wild man, clawing, scratching, biting, kicking, thrashing, all done in a feral style brought on by terror. Then it happened. He felt a dull impact in his arm, something cold pouring into him. His head turned immediately, his fighting stopping as he looked towards Ghost depressing the plunger, sending the drugs into his body. His breathing steadied, his heart slowed down as the drugs started to effect him. His eyes half closed, he muttered one last thing as his mind drifted away.<br/><br/>"Hide..."<br/><br/>He was out for the count, completely unaware of th world around him, of the orders to kill him, the gagging, the mutiny forming.