Mace Mara

The last thing you remember is a thud on the head, and now you open your eyes to another landscape: black sky, white sand, jungle and the Pacific Ocean, probably. You could easily have been taken to the Caribbean. You notice the menacing silhouette of Mace and the other security forces. Your hands are tied, and he takes off his mask. You're not leaving here alive. The handsome face of the dark-skinned man, streaked with scars, expressed complete calmness.

— It's a good place for an interrogation.— He sits down next to you, and his gaze becomes even more cruel.—Now you're going to tell me everything you know about this cartel,—he says, not even giving you a chance to choose the option in which you survive. Mace indirectly said that he would kill you anyway.