by Joseph Storm
“No woman? I couldn’t imagine why not?”
“You don’t know shit about me, kid. I suggest you stop while you’re ahead.”
“The man can dish it out...but can’t take it.”
Becky shook her head in disgust. “Now boys...would you stop the pissing contest and grow up! The way it looks to me...we’re not exactly in position to fight each other. We’re in enough trouble.”
“Hey baby, you and Captain America are the ones in trouble. I’ll be booked and paroled any moment.”
“First of all...I’m not your baby.”
“Relax there, honey. It’s just a figure of speech. You’re not my type...too clean and uptight.”
“I am not uptight!”
“Sure,” he said sarcastically.
“Gunner...is that your name? Or is it chauvinistic pig?”
“I go by both names...though I prefer the second one.”
“That’s not a surprise. Do you think you won’t meet the same fate? Do you expect them to give you a proper trial, slap you on the wrist and send you on your way? Obviously, you never made detective.”
“I can talk my way out of any situation.”
“Clearly with your charm.”
“If not, I fight my way out. I can handle myself, sweetie.”
Joe shook his head in anger. “Listen to me. You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re in. In a matter of hours I watched my family murdered, colleagues executed, and crawled from my own grave. You may think you don’t need friends, but with enemies like this...you’re going to need every ally you can get.”
“Speak for yourself, kid!” he proclaimed.
The door flung open, as Becky gasped in fear. The mercenaries in black brought in a hardwood chair, a bucket, sponge, and a small device. Commander Xavier Sin entered last, as the men set up the makeshift torture area in front of the prisoners.
“This is service. We bring the coercion to you,” Xavier said, following with a laugh. He walked past Gunner’s cell, getting stared down cold in the eyes. “Later,” he assured the anxious man. Continuing on, he strolled across Striker’s area, who was mentally preparing himself for a very rough time.
“I’m a man of my word,” he said, moving on to Becky Fox’s cell.
The terrified look in Becky’s eyes, caused pure joy to fill Xavier’s mind. “Take her out...it’s time to get our buzz on.”
“Leave her alone!” Striker yelled.
The mercenaries in black opened the cell. They yanked Becky from the tight grip she had on the bars. She was dragged to the chair, and tied down to the bloodstained, hard surface. “I didn’t mean to kill the guard!” she cried out.
“This has nothing to do with the guard,” Xavier said.
“Then what is this about?”
“Information.”
“Information? I just met this man today...I don’t know anything.”
Xavier looked at the men in black. “Is everything ready?”
“Yes,” a mercenary said.
“Proceed,” he ordered.
The mercenary connected a few wires deep into the sponge. He then submerged it in the bucket of water.
“Just ask me,” Becky Fox cried out. “I’ll tell you whatever I know.”
A worried look came across Joe Striker’s face. He knew that the phone was in her possession when they were apprehended. Since it wasn’t on Becky as she was searched, she clearly knew its location.
“Who is the mole?” Xavier asked.
“Mole? What are you talking about?”
“How would she know who the mole is?” Striker asked. “I don’t even know.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said.
“What’s the point of this? Torture me!” Joe yelled.
“Proceed.”
Becky took a deep breath and prepared herself. The sponge was forced into her mouth.
“The one way to break a man...is to break his woman.”
“She’s not my woman! You already murdered my woman!”
“Right, how could I forget such a moment?” he asked with a smile. “Then I’ll take a gamble on common chivalry.”
“Something not common to a scum-bag like you!”
“Enough with the small talk. Go ahead,” the commander motioned.
The man in black turned the knob up a notch. It caused a moderate amount of electric shock to flow through Becky Fox’s body. A million goose bumps shot across her skin, painfully stimulating every inch of her.
“Stop,” Xavier Sin said, as the mercenary turned off the machine.
Tears spilled from Becky’s eyes, as she shook with spasms.
“You son of a bitch!” Joe yelled out, as Gunner watched in disbelief. He stared over at the pain on Joe’s face, thinking to himself, These people weren’t shitting me. This guy is a nut job!
“Ready to spill the beans? Who’s the mole? Where’s the microchip?” Xavier asked.
“I told you...I don’t know who the informant is!” Joe pleaded.
“Where is the microchip?”
Joe looked into Becky’s hurt eyes. “I’m sorry...so sorry,” he said, lowering his head in shame.
“It’s time to raise the stakes a bit,” Xavier said, tearing the buttoned up shirt from Becky, snapping off her bra next. The young woman’s firm C-cup breasts were exposed for everyone. The men in black enjoyed the act.
Everything seemed to slow down. Becky Fox focused on the pleasure in Commander Sin’s eyes. A numbness covered her body. Her mind floated to a past scene that had been long buried in her subconscious, hidden from her heart. At that moment, it was unleashed like one thousand lions.
As a young, struggling reporter, she had quickly learned that the dream of headlining the evening news would never materialize. Dues had to be paid, superiors had to be slept with, and she was only willing to do the first one.
Ultimately, Ms. Fox decided that she had to push the envelope. If she wanted to make waves in such a business, she’d have to go past the useless local filler stories. Becky wanted her reports to matter, change the world.
It didn’t take much research, as an 18 year-old Becky Fox boarded a flight to Turkey, following leads to the most dangerous streets. Being young, ambitious, and naive, she never told anyone of her plan to infiltrate the sex trade. Her goal was to exploit the horrors and evils inside it. In her mind, she would be a hero. The reporter would alert the authorities, and free the captives from their misery. She would also expose the evil souls who ran the operation.
Fox followed the directions to a tee. She obtained crucial information from a busted insider, who “rounded up” the girls, gained their trust, and took them in. Becky answered a fake ad for an au pair, meeting her fake employer, Ashghol.
“Good to meet you,” the woman said. Her accent was fairly good, eyes wide with opportunity. “We do not get many American Girls for this position.”
Becky flashed her bright, untainted smile. “I wanted to see the world, experience different cultures.”
Ashghol could smell the naivety seeping from the young girl. “Are you alone?”
“I am. I don’t know anyone here, so I thought I would try a new place...new start. I’m great with children.”
“Very good. You get the job.”
“Really? Great! When do I start?”
“Today...now.”
“I have to get my things from the hostel.”
“No need, we send someone for it.”
“Ok.”
“We drive to house.”
“Where is it?”
“Not far, lets go,” she said, leading Becky to a waiting car. Once she got into the vehicle, there was no turning back. She knew from her informants that she would be held against her will for a year. What they failed to tell her was that, although she would physically be released, the young girl would be held a mental prisoner for much longer.
Becky was hurried into the vehicle, where a man was waiting at the wheel. Another Arab joined her in the
back seat. Ashghol pushed her inside, shutting the door tight. The astute Fox immediately noticed there was no handle to exit.
The man beside her examined Becky like a wolf to meat. His dark eyes revealed the evil intentions that awaited the coming hours.
Ashghol shouted a foreign command to the driver. He drove off in a hurry. She looked back at Becky and smiled. Fox took a deep breath, preparing herself for a fate that she had sought. However, she still had an immature sense of control, possessing the belief that she could handle anything. The girl believed her trauma could be brushed off while accepting praise for her sacrifice. Soon Becky would see what control really was. Ashghol handed her a bottle of water.
“For you,” she assured her. “Drink, to avoid heat.”
The usually alert girl allowed the searing desert heat to cloud her judgement.
“Thank you,” she said, opening up the bottle and taking a huge gulp. A smile appeared on Ashghol’s face. The man next to her agreed. She realized something was afoot, though hadn’t anticipated that the water was drugged.
The car had left town, entering the craggy, dry mountains. It wasn’t much beyond that where the scene went from a slightly dizzying one to complete darkness. She would awaken in the dark, hot trunk of the car. Complete panic overcame Fox, as the claustrophobic girl started pounding and kicking, trying to escape the maddening scene.
Suddenly, the trunk flew open. The man who accompanied her in the backseat, yanked her out by the arms. He flung her over his shoulder, carrying her into a large house. There were mattresses on the floor, no furniture. Females of all body types and nationalities were there, attractive yet scared and dirty. Some were nude, in the act of sex with men five times their age. It was clear from their expressions that it was not sex, but rape.
Becky Fox was taken to a special room. She was laid onto a sheet-less bed, stained with spots of white. The bearded man tried to tie her wrists to shabby bedposts, though she fought back. He slapped her hard in the face. Blood seeped from her nose.
Having never been struck in such a way, Becky went into shock. Her inaction allowed the man to get her hands and feet secured. The disturbing moments made her block out the following actions, such as the tearing of her buttoned shirt, and ripping of the bra from her, exactly like Commander Xavier Sin.
The Arab tore the dress, as Ashghol came in to watch. Becky managed to squeeze out a word from her throat. “Help!” she called to the woman.
“You will get used to it. They all do in time,” she said with a twisted smile.
It was at that moment when Fox went numb. A bearded, sweaty man, forced his way inside her. She was dry as sand, causing him to irritate the area. However, she could barely feel anything. It equaled a victim who’s been stabbed 100 times, as fear overtakes the body, pressure overtakes the pain.
The smell of roasted lamb sailed from the man’s breath, as he jammed his tongue inside her mouth. If it would have lasted longer than 20 seconds, she would have vomited. Thankfully it didn’t, as he ejaculated mercifully quickly.
He got up, leaving a trail of sticky sweat and body odor in his wake. Becky Fox immediately started to tremble. Ashghol said, “Next.”
Volts of electricity filled Becky’s body, as she was thrust from her horrid memories back to the scene. Much like Ashghol, Xavier gave the command, “Next! Give it more juice this time,” he said.
The lights in the hallway started to flicker, as Fox’s body was pumped with pain. She was trying to scream, though her voice sputtered in bits and pieces.
“Stop, you bastard!” Joe Striker called out.
“All you have to do is tell me where the microchip is. It will all be over.”
Joe pounded the bars. “Never!” he yelled.
“Turn it up more,” Xavier said, as Becky Fox trembled even more in pain.
Striker placed his hands on his bald head, gripping it in conflicting agony. He looked up, as Becky tried to speak in between the volts of electricity. “I....I....I...”
“The prisoner wishes to speak,” the commander called out.
Fear gripped Joe’s face, though he was almost relieved. As bad as he wished to bring down the regime, he couldn’t take the sight of Becky in so much pain.
“Stop the procedure,” Xavier called to the mercenary in black.
The power was turned off. Becky Fox collapsed in the chair. Commander Xavier scooped some water from the bucket into his hands, splashing Becky’s face with it. He revived her back to reality.
“You were trying to tell us something,” he said, removing the sponge from her mouth.
“You can find...”
“Go on,” he said.
“You can find the chip,”
“Yes?”
Becky pulled all of her energy to blurt it out. “You can find the chip in hell,” she called out.
Joe Striker was in disbelief, witnessing the inner strength of a woman he was just beginning to understand. I’m not sure if I could even find the resolve, he thought to himself.
“Hell...no such place. Well, maybe on earth...show her hell, boys,” he ordered the mercenaries in black. They forced the sponge back into her mouth. “Full force this time.”
“No!” Joe screamed out, as the power was turned all the way up. Once again, Becky shook with pain. She convulsed with the punishing pulses that rattled her brain. Her seizure-like state caused her to lose all control of her body, causing urine to spill like a flooding river. The horrific scene even caused Gunner to get involved.
“You coward! Come face a man!” he called out. Joe looked over at him, realizing that he would need Gunner’s help to get out of the situation. He hoped the stubborn man finally realized that he would need them as well.
The torture continued for five minutes, almost killing Becky Fox. “Stop,” Xavier called out. “Not done with this one yet. Let her and this sad sack in the cell think about their stubborn behavior...before the next round. Toss her back...watch them until I return,” he said, walking toward the exit.
He passed Gunner’s cell, causing the imprisoned man to call out, “I have something for you.”
“What would that be?” he asked, leaning in towards him. Gunner flung his police badge at the commander’s face. Xavier bent down, gripping it in his hands, responding, “This no longer has any meaning,” he challenged Gunner.
“Because of people like you,” he told him.
“I’ll be sure to remember that...when I execute you. However, there are bigger fish to fry,” Xavier said, exiting the room.
Becky Fox was cut free from the chair. Her soft, wet body spilled onto the hard floor. She was dragged into the cell, leaving a pool of urine in her wake. The shirt was still torn open, exposing her. The mercenary used that moment to cop a feel, causing Striker to press against the bars, “Get your hands off her!”
The mercenary laughed, as his companion smiled, watching from afar. The cries for mercy went unanswered and the game continued.
“Kid,” Gunner whispered at Striker, causing Joe to look over. Officer Shoman’s eyes darted to the idle mercenary, watching his colleague get off. Gunner didn’t have to say any more. Striker was ready to assist whatever he had in mind.
“So, you can obviously beat an unconscious woman...but can you take on a free man?” Gunner called out.
The mercenary snarled. He approached the bars, pulling out a lead night stick. Striker readied himself to move towards the target.
“I show you,” the mercenary said, swinging the lead stick towards Gunner’s hands. The appendages were gripping the bars, slightly sticking out. Gunner waited for the exact moment before his fingers were smashed to bits. He quickly removed his hands, allowing the object to make contact with the steel cell.
Striker moved towards the mercenary. Gunner grabbed the nightstick, yanking it into the cell, and pulling the mercenary’s arm in with it. Shoman used his entire force to propel the guard forward, smashing the evil man’s face against the bars. The position allowed him to
weave the lead stick through the slots, around the mercenary’s neck, pinning the man in black’s throat against the cage of steel.
Striker rushed towards the edge of the cell, straining his hand through the small crevices. He barely managed to free the keys from the trapped guard’s belt.
“What happen?” yelled the other mercenary, who was too busy roving Becky Fox’s body to stop the plan from taking place. He abandoned his peep show, rushing towards Joe Striker.
It became a race for survival as Striker rushed with precision. He only had moments to get it right. Sticking his hand through the bars, he placed the key awkwardly into the lock, opening the cell door. The incoming mercenary met him at the exit.
Striker placed his weight upon the swinging metal door. He plunged it into the mercenary, jamming the man in black between the prison bars and door. Joe continued squeezing until the man dropped his gun, and his lungs were crushed beneath the weight of steel force.
Joe ran towards Becky, closing up her shirt. He tried to return a small inch of her dignity. Placed a hand on her face, he gently tapped her back to consciousness. Becky regained alertness with a deep gasp, looking around as if awakening from a nightmare. Tears bolted from her eyes, as she gripped Striker tightly in a scared embrace.
The choking sounds of Gunner’s play toy stopped, as the mercenary dropped to the ground. He spit upon him. “Didn’t think so,” he said, returning his attention to Joe and Becky. “I don’t mean to interrupt cuddle time...but count asshole should be returning any moment.”
Striker helped Becky to her feet, leading her out of the cell. He freed Gunner, saying, “I guess we need each other, after all.”
“Hey, kid...remember...I freed you. Don’t you forget it,” he said, heading towards the exit door.
“We can’t just leave,” Striker said. “That beast is still out there...armed with my weapon.”
Gunner picked up a guard’s guns, tossing it to Joe. “Well, we’re armed now.
Joe took a look at the small gun. “This just won’t cut it,” Joe compared.
Officer Shoman followed by securing another weapon. “Make noise,” Gunner said.
“Stay out of the line of sight!” Striker warned, waiting behind the door.