in charge of the much older interrogator? The thought passed as soon as he spoke.
"I will break you." The words were low and slow and I just about emptied my bowels when they came from the dark figure they called Captain Callif to his face. I figured he would do just as he said, but I wasn't sure if that meant mostly physical or mental. If a mental breakdown would have given them what they wanted, I would have suffered one long before the imposing figure of Captain Guillermo Callif stood before me. Once again, I tried to make myself clear.
"Sir , Captain, sir," I stammered, "I don't know if these men apprised you of the situation, but I really, honestly, truly don't know the information you're asking for. And your gentle handlers here don't seem very disposed to giving me any sort of non-physical clue."
Guillermo exhaled violently, saying not another word while he raised his hand. He balled into a fist with the speed of a man who want ed to make it clear what was coming, and I noticed that the man who had previously been roughing me up cringed more than I did. Captain Callif lowered his hand, still clenched in a fist, and spun on my interrogator.
"Did I not make it clear this man was a transient agent? You've been around long enough I didn't think I had to spell it out for you!"
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
The hammering of my pulse subsided slightly and my bowels were able to unclench just a tad. I was still concerned as to what would happen when the berating of the cowering inferior officer had concluded, but while they argued, I was safe.
It turned out to be a fairly lengthy argument as the Captain yelled while his subordinate proffered weaker and weaker excuses. Any man with half a wit would have accepted responsibility and tried to excuse themselves, but this man was either possessing of only a quarter of a wit or, more likely, had been taken into this group from another culture where saving face was a very different process.
As my reprieve drew to a close the man finally accepted defeat and resigned himself to the shadows.
Captain Guillermo Callif approached me again, his eyes still alight with passionate anger.
"So, if you don't know what these men were asking for, what do you know?"
"Honestly, sir? Not that much. I'm somewhat surprised I remember how to talk considering how little I remember of anything else."
"Perhaps you will be comforted to know that it doesn't surprise me."
I am still not sure how that was supposed to comfort me, but it didn't. I nodded anyway, and was rewarded with a curt laugh.
"What else?"
"What else do I remember?" I sat for a moment. There wasn't much. Then I wondered how I even knew where I was. How had I known what was happening before they'd even started interrogating me? How had I known there was a gun in my mouth before I'd opened my eyes?
"Steel," I blurted out . "I knew he had a gun in my mouth."
This elicited another short laugh. "Yes, I bet you would. I'm sure this isn't your first time at the negotiating table."
"Yes," I started again, "I knew what was going on. I've done this before."
This time , an actual round of laughter, the whole room. I stiffened, straightened up in my chair. I'd grown desperate and was giving them at least something they wanted.
My interrogator addressed him. "Captain Callif, we've run him through brain scans, and we believe we have to do an internal intervention to extract the data we need."
–
"And that's how I ended up here with my head wrapped up like this."
Jasper Jonze gestured weakly to the bandages that wound their way into a kind of turban. It fit his ethnicity quite well.
His story drew to a close and Ana looked over his torture wounds. His hand was bandaged where the nail had gone in, his head was wrapped in gauze and she could see a thin red line seeping through on his forehead.
There were casts on both his legs. Odd. He hadn't mentioned that, even though it was probably the injury that needed hospital
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