Broken Chains - completed 1st draft

Part 6

**Warning** - Graphic Violence

Liz woke and found herself bound to a wooden chair in a small room, which smelled as though it could have been a disused barn. The small bulb that swung from the breeze gave off enough light for her to see only one exit. What the hell happened? Where's my backup and where the hell am I? The gag attached tightly across her mouth, allowed her to breathe easily, but not to call out, not that she had any intention of attracting her abductor's attention. She struggled with the binds that held her feet and hands, but as they were plastic cuffs that tightened the more, she struggled, she soon gave up. They were professionals, she concluded, and she knew there was a high possibility that she was being held by the Haki. She was still wearing her pink uniform, but when she looked down, she noticed the pin was missing. Just the action of bending her neck brought tears to her eyes. From the hit she took, the intense pain shot up into her head and made her cry out. Liz attempted to block out the pain. She hoped that MI5 had managed to track her location before the transmitter had been destroyed.

The interrogation started when three masked men entered the room. All three were dressed in identical black combat trousers, black polo-neck jumper, and polished black combat boots. Each carried a weapon; each wore a white-faced mask. They surrounded her before one of them removed the gag and then the men separated. One stood by the door; his arms folded. The tallest of the men stood to the right, and the last man was in front of her.

Liz had to make a quick decision, one that could save or wreck her chances of survival. Should she play the tough agent and not answer any of their questions, be strong and unaffected by their tactics or play the innocent helpless woman, who has no idea why they've taken her? However, these guys didn't look like they would stand for any attitude.

"Why am I here? What do you want?" she cried.

"Listen very carefully," the man in front of her said. Again, she noticed a weak Japanese accent, mixed with a British. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Just answer our questions truthfully and you'll leave here in one piece. Be stupid, and you're in for a lot of hurt. Understand?"

She nodded. "Please don't hurt me. Please, I don't know why I'm here."

The man ignored her.

"What's your name," he barked.

"Sue Clayton." she answered.

"Who do you work for, Miss Clayton."

"I'm a beautician at Top 2 Toe. I'm sorry I touched Mr Yazumi's jacket. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong."

The man stepped forward, grabbed a chunk of her hair, and pulled her head back.

"Don't play games with me," he yelled. "Who do you work for?"

"I told you," She shouted. "I'm a beautician at Top 2 Toe. Please, what's this about?"

The man then pulled out a blindfold from his trouser pocket and tied it around her head.

"What have I done wrong? I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me?" she begged.

Liz didn't know what was going to happen next, but she knew she had to try to stick to her cover no matter what happened.

Hands started ripping off her clothes. She felt them on her skin, touching her legs. There were sniggers. The men were enjoying their work. Were they going to sexually assault her? She never felt so helpless in her life. Knowing she was sitting bound and unable to defend herself, knowing they were watching her, looking over her half-naked body, staring at her most private parts. She felt ashamed. Why couldn't she be fat and have a figure that would repulse them rather than a curvy, voluptuous body that was going to excite them? She couldn't see them. She couldn't hear them, but she knew they were there.