Madison was starving, never had she gone loner than a day without food and right about now she was close to day three. How she had managed to not be weakened was a shock, but soon the very muscles she built from dancing would deteriorate, or so she assumed. Every time he spoke it was in English the Aramaic. Even if she didn't verbally repeat she did so mentally. Perhaps she could teach him as he taught her, of course Moussad would have to want to learn for Madison to be successful. Hesitantly her hands were moved in front of her, fear knotting her empty stomach. Had she done something wrong? Already she associated pain and punishment with the manacles but it had the potential to be worse if she fought. "Where are we going?" she asked quietly.