The voice quieted as the person paused. I didn’t know whether to pray for a visit or to be left alone.
A lock tumbled and a chain rattled, then footsteps echoed in the stone room after the sound of a metal door slammed shut. I tried looking up to see who was approaching me, but my head felt so fucking heavy. I hoped like hell it was the guy who brought the food. Unfortunately, the way I was positioned and chained to the wall kept me from turning or raising my head high enough to see the door.
I took a deep breath and waited. I forced as much calm through my system as possible when really, all I wanted was to curl up in Rocket’s arms, in that big-ass bed of his, and shut out the rest of the fucking world. Being in this situation had really fucking put shit into perspective.
More footsteps and whispered words came from just out of eyesight—the anticipation for what was coming drug on. My teeth clenched as I waited.
Just get the fuck on with it. It will suck no matter what.
A pair of feet appeared below my face. The person squatted down, pulling my face up, forcing me to meet his eyes.
Oh! Goody! The head fuckstick in charge.
“Tell me what I want to know, SEAL,” he said in his heavily accented English.
I stared at him. We’d played this game so many fucking times.
“Senior Chief Adam DuBois. United States Navy. 3487439012. February twenty-first, 1983.”
He gripped my jaw. “Tell me why Navy SEALs were at that house?”
I grunted, unable to speak with the way he was holding onto my face. I nodded, and he released me. I worked my jaw. Apparently I took too long, because he backhanded me, snapping my neck to the right.
A lefty. When I get loose, I’ll make sure he never uses that fucking arm again.
Glaring at him, I said, “Senior Chief Adam DuBois. United States Navy. 3487439012. February twenty-first, 1983.”
He growled, nearly roaring his frustration and anger. “Prepare him. He will talk.”
Fuckstick stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut.
Bingo!
The door didn’t lock. It didn’t even latch. It bounced open a bit. This was my shot. I just had to overpower the two guys he’d left with me. I had to do it quietly. Dead silent.
I can’t do it. Even if I got away, I wouldn’t make it. I don’t have any gear, any weapons.
I’m a fucking Navy SEAL. I’m the tip of the fucking spear. I am the weapon. Suck it up, you pussy!
On any other day, I wouldn’t be questioning my ability to take out two tangoes. After being in this hellhole for so long, Iwasn’t exactly in fighting shape. Hell, I didn’t know if I was even in standing or sitting shape at this point.
The cycle of torture was maddening. Physical torture wore a body out quickly, but the mind was a resilient thing, so rotating the methods dragged things out more. It was fucking working.
As soon as I got used to being shoved inside that metal dog crate, they’d move me to the room where they tortured me. Sometimes, they just left me strung up like the hams Gramps cured every year. I spent so many hours hanging from my wrists and hands I didn’t think they’d ever be the same. Same for my feet and ankles.
My joints had taken a beating as well. I was a mess, but if my brain was telling me I was done and I couldn’t go on, that meant I could. It meant I still had sixty percent left in the tank. I could and had done a hell of a lot of damage on sixty percent.
These fuckers don’t know what the fuck they’ve unleashed.
I waited patiently, but tension coiled up in my body like a viper poised to strike. I just had to wait for them to release me, and considering they were rigging up the bench they’d used to electrocute me on, I knew it was coming. I just had to hope these two, unlike the last ones, would release me before they tied me down. If so, then I would take them out, and I would leave this place behind or fucking die trying.
The captors, who were preparing to torture me, released my legs, and then, for the first time since I’d tried to escape, they released my hands. A breathless, silent sigh of relief washed through me.
I was free.
The tension coiled inside me broke loose, and I took my shot.
Using my left leg, I swept the leg of the captor from under him. He flipped backward, and I grabbed the head of the guy on the right, staring into his eyes with my hand firmly over his neckas a thud and a groan came from my left, followed by another thud. Then silence.
