Broken Chains - completed 1st draft

Part 6

The voice was close; she felt his breath on her ear.

"I'm going to ask you again. What is your name?"

"Please believe me," she whimpered. "Sue Clayton."

The first zap occurred on her left arm. The electric shock burned through her skin and travel down her arm to the tips of her fingers. Her body jolted from the touch, and she cried out.

"Please stop. Why are you doing this?"

"Who sent you to steal the disk from Yazumi? Who are you working for?" A different voice asked one that carried a distinctive Japanese accent, not like her first interrogator.

"What disk. I don't know what you're talking about."

Another shock, this time to her right leg. The leg jerked upwards, and the pain carried up into her gut. Her body was still shaking after they removed the Taser. Even though she couldn't move much, the cuffs on her wrists cut into her skin.

Liz felt sick. Her skin itched and tingled painfully while her head throbbed. How long did she have until they zapped her again? Which part of the body were they going to strike next? Sweat dripped down her face and formed a puddle on her neck.

"We can make this all go away. You can walk out of here if you tell us who you're working for." The first interrogator spoke.

"Why are you doing this? I don't understand?" She cried, and they were real tears. She was scared. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this act. I don't know how much more of this I can take.

The next electric hit got her in the left side of her ribs. The intensity of the current was such that her body jumped; the chair fell back taking her with it. Her head slammed onto the concrete floor causing her head to ache and become lightheaded.

"Why are you making this hard?" he whispered. "We know who you're working for. So, you might as well tell us. Why keep lying? It's only going to get worse."

If they already knew, what would be the harm in telling them? she thought. They would keep torturing her until they got what they wanted. Maybe if she played along with them, they'd go easier on her.

The electric current started from her left foot and travelled up her leg. She couldn't breathe, her chest tightened, her whole body was wracked in pain.

"Okay, no more," she screamed, her breathing coming out in pants. "I'll tell you what you want to know."

She felt the chair being lifted and her head fell forward. She sensed the men stepping away from her. But she didn't have the energy to lift her head.

"We want the names of the other agents you work with." The Japanese man said.

So that's what they're after. It would be easy enough to give them the names but what good would it do? I only know them by their alias. Alex is the only identity I know, and even then, I only know him by his first name and there was no way I'm going to speak it, no matter what they do to me.

"Please," she cried. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Another hit, this time to the chest. It was enough for Liz to pass out, but not before she felt a hand take her wrist and hold it in a way a doctor would be reading a pulse.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been out. But when she came to, she was alone; still in her underwear, but no longer bound to the chair. The smell of sweat and electricity filled the room. Liz was too weak to try to lift her head or attempt to get off the chair. Her muscles ached, her mouth dry and her lips were sore. The red burn mark on her left foot laughed at her stupidity. All she had to do was tell them the names she knew. It wasn't her fault if they were false identities. There was no need to have gone through the suffering. They weren't her friends. Why should she suffer to protect them? What had they ever done for her?

After the guilt came the fear: What were they going to do to her next? How long would it continue until she told them everything? Then the anger: Where was her back up? Why hadn't someone rescued her? Did they think she was expendable, not worth the effort? Well, she'd show them. If they didn't give a shit about her, why should she go through the agony of torture for them?

She heard the door open and saw three sets of feet coming towards her. A hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.

"How we doing there? Still with us. We don't want to lose you just yet."

It then occurred to her that no matter what they did or what she said, they were going to kill her. From somewhere she found a hidden strength. If she was going to go, she was going down fighting.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes wide and looked at her abductor. Her vision blurred from the strain, but she looked straight into his eyes and said, "Let me go you piece of shit or you'll be sorry."

The man lashed out with such force it knocked her off the chair onto the dusty floor. Her heart raced, her head pulsated, and she squeezed her eyes shut taking her mind and pain to another place.

The sound of feet running over toward her woke up her senses again. She was picked off the floor and sat back in the chair. Her arms were bound to the back of it with thick rope. One of the men slapped her, causing her to be alert again. Her hair was pulled back and she screamed as one of the men held her head in a tight grip while the other covered her mouth with cling film. Panic at not being able to breathe, knowing she was suffocating, forced her pulse rate to rise and her whole body to fight defensively. She struggled in their grips. The third man grabbed her chin and held it while he started pouring water onto the plastic gag. She closed her eyes and screamed as the water splashed over her face, and up her nose; chocking, drowning her. The interrogation technique only lasted a few moments, but to Liz, it was a lifetime. When they removed the cling film and allowed air to flow back into her mouth and lungs, the first man stood over her and screamed into her face.

"Your name?"

" Blake," she cried back.

The words worked like magic. Their grip was released, and her head gently laid on the chest of a man standing behind her. She opened her eyes slowly to see the men removing their masks. Liz knew there was no way she was going to be leaving the room. She'd seen their faces. They weren't going to let her live. Only she felt the atmosphere change. She felt it but couldn't understand why. The air wasn't thick with tension anymore. A hand gently lifted her head and then wiped a cloth over her wet face. Another man knelt by the chair and cut her binds. The other two of them tried to lift her off the chair, but her legs gave out and she collapsed into waiting arms.

The next few minutes were a blur. She was gently carried out of the room. Even though her eyes were closed, the sunlight that came through the open door seemed to burn through her eyelids. She didn't know where they were taking her, but she had no strength left to fight.

It wasn't until she smelled the reek of medications and antiseptic that she opened her eyes a little and saw she was in a moving ambulance.

"It's alright, Miss Finely. It's over. No one's going to hurt you. Just relax."

The gentle voice was soothing to her and for the first time since she'd been abducted, she felt safe. But it was an unusual feeling, a mistake, as though it was wrong to think she was safe. What if they were still out there? What if it was all part of the interrogation, psychological torture? Make her believe she was safe. Hope that she'd made it and then surprise her with the truth. Liz quickly sat up and looked wildly around her. She struggled with the medic while yelling out for them to stop.

"It's okay. You're safe." He assured her. Before she could react, the medic injected her with a sedative.   

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