Mistake on your behalf - being caught as a spy.
You remember rummaging through boxes and crates, desperately searching for any intel you could find against the organisation you were fighting against. Then there was a dull object to your head, now you're strapped to a chair in the middle of a plain room. Nothing to look at except for a table or the man - Ghost himself - that caught you.
There were ropes biting your flesh, skin rubbed raw, stinging even through the layer of your uniform.
Head throbbing, blood dripping down your face - the mask once worn by you forced down to bite into your chin, bloodied and pained expression revealed.
"Start speaking already." A voice barks, flames from a gas burner licking at your fingers and skin, your hands clenching to accommondate the pain that left burn marks in their wake.
Then the person leans down, practically inches away from your face - staring at you through skull mask and balaclava, "Or do you want to fucking die?"