“Yes, sir,” the captain acknowledged. “You, and you. Grab her and follow him. Report back here as soon as you’re done.”
The two men designated, took her arms, one hand above the elbow and the other at each wrist. Half carrying her, they followed the Castile officer.
“Let’s try a little direct pain,” the Castilian suggested once the mercenaries had released her. Summoning two of his own men into the office he ordered, “Stand her up and hold her.” They dragged her to her feet until she stood between them, sagging in their grip. He began to beat her, jabbing with hard, practiced fingers at the nerve clusters under her jaw, under her arms, in her solar plexus, and in her exposed breasts. She writhed under his assault, crying out in pain. At last she fainted, hanging limply in their hands. Stepping close, the officer slapped her with back-and-forth sweeps of his hand, penetrating her pain and dragging her back to consciousness. “You’re going to tell me your name whether you like it or not, girl. Who are you,” he demanded. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall forward. He grabbed her chin and lifted her head, staring into her face. “She’s out. Throw her into the cell and call the General.”
Several minutes later, the officer and another man entered the cell. The two men stood, looking down at her. “What have you been doing, hitting her with, powder puffs?” the older man demanded.
”No, General,” the officer said, puzzled. Then he looked at her and his face tightened. “Sir, when I sent for you, she had a split lip and the beginnings of major bruising on both breasts and under both arms. She should be black and blue by now. Sir, she must be an EP.”
Antoinette lay on the floor, feigning unconsciousness. Now, she thought, flogging her numb brain, I must give them an explanation that diverts them from the truth. She moaned and stirred.
The General knelt, lifting her head and shoulders and supporting her against his knee. “You poor child,” he said, sympathetically. “You’ve really been punished. If you’ll just tell me who you are and why you are here, I’ll see to it you have a warm bed and something to eat when you feel up to it.”
She nodded, raising her head feebly. “Do not let them hurt me any more, m’sieur. I will tell you what you ask. My name is Marie Lemaitre. I work for FORCE. I am a scout for them because I heal so quickly. They sent me to investigate a report of strange activities in this area.”
”That’s very good.” He glanced up at the officer with an arrogant smile on his lips. “And how did you get in here?”
”I climbed over the fence and …” She broke off as the General struck her, a savage backhand blow that split her lip and knocked her to the floor. He stood.
”Lies!” he snarled, rage suffusing his face. “Lies! That fence is electrified with enough juice to fry an elephant!” He turned to the officer. “I want her talking, I don’t care how you do it!”
”Shall I use drugs, sir?”
The General shook his head. “No. If she is from FORCE, then she’s probably built up her tolerance for the various kinds of truth drugs to the point that she could still avoid telling the truth. Use pain. Enough pain will break anyone eventually, if the person applying it knows his job. You have until noon, Major. If she’s not talking by then, I will have to replace you.” The major stiffened at the threat as the General turned and stalked out.
He turned to one of his men. “Private, get me a cattle-prod, a scalpel, a rasp and some salt.” He turned to one of the other soldiers. “Corporal. Drag that table over here.”
Then the major walked over to Antoinette and grasped her skirt. With a quick yank, he stripped it off her. He gestured to the other men. “Put her on the table.” It took four men to hold her as he tied her spreadeagled to the table top. As he straightened up, the private returned with the requested items.
He picked up the cattle prod, triggering it with a snap of electricity, then turned to his naked captive with a cold, cruel smile. “Well, you heal quickly, do you,” he smirked. “Let’s just see how well you can heal from this.”
She watched him, her stomach knotted with fear as she retreated into herself, distancing herself from the pain that was coming. “You should have told us what we wanted to know,” he continued. “Now your stubbornness is going to cost you. You’re going to have a long, long morning.” He slapped the prod against her inner thigh.
* * * * *
The deafening wail of sirens jolted Tracker from a dream of leaping the fence and escaping the clutches of Castile. Glancing through the window he saw the compound brightly lit by the red-orange glare of sodium floodlights. He got out of bed and stood, gripping the bars of the window as he watched the Castilians conduct a thorough sweep of the base. Wonder what’s going on, he asked himself. Could the Defenders have found me already? He waited for several long minutes for something to happen, but when the lights went out an hour later he knew he was still alone in a camp full of enemies.
