by J J Cooper
‘I don’t even know what a fight or flight response is. But, by the way you said “he”, I assume it’s just for Neanderthals.’
‘A misplaced assumption. Neanderthals were both male and female. Bigger brains too, apparently. Anyway, latest research indicates some females have what they call a tend and befriend response. You know, they gather their young and hook up with the strongest of the male species. The fight response ones.’
Toni had changed shades of red. George and Bill were staring at Jay.
‘That true?’ Bill asked.
Jay shrugged. ‘Never subscribed to the theory in the classroom environment. Seems to work in there though.’ He nodded towards the mirror and then looked at Toni. ‘Did you know fifty-five per cent of our communication is through body language? For example, you standing there with your arms crossed, coffee cup held high to try to cover your face and a vein pulsing above your collar. Tells me you’re pissed at me. Simple as that.’
She shrunk her neck into her collar to cover the vein. She gave a look that she wanted to take up the argument, then dropped her shoulders a touch in a sign that she would let it be. Maybe take up the challenge later.
Jay smiled, turned and walked towards the interrogation room door. ‘Let’s find out, shall we? Watch his body language with the first question. Fight or flight.’
EIGHTEEN
The interrogation room felt like the inside of an industrial freezer. Jay closed the door and motioned to the mirror for George to turn off the air-conditioner. The fans of the cooling system stopped and the only sounds in the room were the faint groans of the prisoner.
Jay crouched, close to the prisoner’s head. With a menacing tone he said, ‘How’s it feel to have the shoe on the other foot?’
The prisoner curled tighter into the foetal position. Flight. Jay turned and walked out of the room. He knew his strategy.
He picked up his coffee mug from beside George and stuck his finger in the untouched liquid. Lukewarm. He glanced over at Toni who was staring intently into the mirror. ‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘What kind of fucking game are you playing? He’s going to die in there. You’re all as bad as him.’ She turned and made a hasty retreat up the stairs.
Jay waited until the cellar door had shut before turning back to Bill. ‘Well?’
‘Flight. From both.’
Jay grinned and George gave a chuckle.
They took a moment to collect themselves before Jay said to George, ‘Okay, we need full heat. Where are your blankets?’
George turned a button on the air-conditioner’s console before reaching under the bench for a thick brown blanket with green stripes: typical military issue. He handed it to Jay.
‘Before you go back in there,’ Bill said, ‘I’m out of here. No point hanging around for the obvious.’ He reached over and shook Jay’s hand before grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. ‘Stay safe.’
Bill turned and ascended the stairs, never looking back. They knew how to contact each other, and they knew the stakes. They had been through it all before.
Jay tucked the blanket under his arm and carried his mug back to the interrogation room.
The air inside had rapidly warmed, yet the prisoner writhed with uncontrollable shakes. Jay placed the cup of coffee by the door and carried the blanket to the prisoner. The prisoner seemed to sense Jay, and tightened his foetal position.
After lifting him up and facing him towards the door, Jay wrapped the blanket around the prisoner’s wet shoulders. He retrieved the coffee and placed it in the prisoner’s hands.
‘I’m not that concerned,’ Jay said. ‘It’s not hot enough to burn me. Besides, we’re taught as soldiers to always accept things that will keep us alive. Drink every drop. Eat every crumb.’
Jay took a couple of paces back and turned to the one-way mirror. He watched the prisoner down the coffee like a college kid downs beer: as quick as possible.
He waited until the prisoner had finished and held the cup to his chest before starting his rhetoric. ‘It’s ironic: those who taught us only to give our name, rank, number and date of birth have never been in that situation themselves. I clearly recall having my hand nailed to a table by a psychopath and the last thing on my mind was that bullshit. Same when I was shot, I suppose. I’ve come to realise that ultimately it’s a game of survival. I’ve interrogated a lot of people in my time. And not a single one of them has ever followed that rubbish they were taught by overweight military fools. You know the ones: read a few books, watched a few sensationalist documentaries. Closest they’ve come to war was buying a few rounds for vets on ANZAC Day. Same ones who claim they can’t wear their medals because all of their missions have been top secret. Truth is they’ve never been to a country that doesn’t have a McDonald’s or Starbucks. Never known what it’s like to actually piss yourself to keep warm and bite your lip to fill your mouth with blood for the pure warmth. Never known what it’s like to contemplate chewing flesh just to get out of restraints. Nope. The ones who, through that thinly disguised military corporate bullshit, have sat in their lazy-chairs force-feeding that crap down the throats of soldiers about to put themselves in harm’s way. They preach theory that has been regurgitated through the years by other like-minded fools. Theory that has absolutely no application or synchronisation with the realities of those chained to a floor, made to suffer through miserable cold, sat in a pool of self-putrid, and come face to face with the nation’s finest interrogator.’ Jay turned and stared at his prisoner. ‘They’ve got no fucking idea.’
Jay held the stare until the prisoner looked down, beaten by his words. ‘Tell you what,’ Jay said. ‘You’re going to find it hard to talk for a moment anyway, so why don’t you just nod or shake your head for a while? Happy with that?’
A slight nod. The speech had worked.
‘Excellent. You’re an Infantry Officer?’
Nod.
‘Judging by your age I’d say either a Lieutenant Colonel or a Major who has been passed over.’ Jay held up his hand. ‘Don’t answer that yet. A Lieutenant Colonel wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk his career to get involved in kidnapping and murder now, would he?’
A shake of the head.
It wasn’t a good sign. Jay had purposefully said murder in the hope the prisoner would deny it and admit the other three were alive. Now he knew at least one, and probably all three, were dead.
‘Didn’t think so, Major. An Infantry Major also commands a Rifle Company and would be able to hand-pick his soldiers to carry out his dirty work. Risky though, because we all know soldiers like to talk. Unless they think it’s a top secret training exercise and have been sworn to secrecy for the integrity of the exercise. That the case?’
Another nod.
‘I’m on a roll. Therefore you, or a couple of you, would know the real reason for trying to kill me.’
A shake of the head. ‘No ... no ... we ... not trying ... to kill ... you.’
‘Then how do you explain trying to push me in front of a bus?’
The Major cocked his head slightly. Jay knew instantly that the Major had no idea about the bus incident. Jay didn’t want to lose what he had gained, so he moved on.
‘But I digress. Let’s talk about the reason you want to kidnap me. Shall we?’
There was no movement of the head.
Jay took a slight step forward.
One of the Major’s hands left the coffee cup and shook as he held it in front of his face.
Jay reached down, took the cup and stepped back. ‘Why do you want to kidnap me?’
‘B ... blood.’
‘Pardon?’
The Major lowered his hand, licked his lips and looked at Jay. ‘Blood.’ His voice was still shaky, but clearer.
Jay didn’t know what the Major was talking about. As his mind raced to make the match, his senses peaked. Something was wrong. He looked at the mirror, unsure. An alarm bell rang, but he couldn’t pinpoi
nt why. He focused on the mirror and trained his ears. Nothing. He looked around the interrogation room. White walls, stained concrete floor and a shivering prisoner chained to a bolt in the middle of the room. Standard. He noticed the Major looking at the mirror. Something in his eyes. A hint of hope. Time to move. Jay dived at the prisoner, coming up seated behind him with the crook of his left arm around his throat. He smashed the mug on the concrete floor. The jagged handle remained in his hand. He brought it across the Major’s throat.
Jay focused on the door. The handle slowly turned. He looked at the mirror again, the roof, the door. No options. He was trapped. Only a rough piece of porcelain mug held to a prisoner’s throat.
The door swung open and a silenced pistol entered before the person holding it.
NINETEEN
Toni shifted the pistol to a two-handed grip as she made her way through the door. She was followed by two balaclava-clad men carrying Steyr rifles.
‘Guess I’m maybe not as dumb as I look, Jay,’ Toni said.
Jay moved his weapon deeper into the soft flesh under the Major’s jaw. Not quite enough to break the skin, but close. The men took up their positions on either side of the room. Smart. There would be no possible way for him to launch from one to the other. Not without risk. He didn’t know the game to fully understand the consequences just yet.
He focused back on Toni. ‘I know you need me alive. So what’s with the weapons?’
She grinned and lowered her pistol. ‘You got further than I thought with the good Major here. Why don’t you just drop the puny piece of porcelain and we can all walk out of here nice and calm-like.’
‘I don’t know. I’m a patient man. Perhaps we can discuss exactly what’s going on here before I put aside my weapon.’
Toni gave a grin. ‘Not exactly a weapon when you compare it to what’s pointing at you.’
Jay looked from one guard to another then back to Toni. ‘You’ve obviously played around with that type of weapon before. No doubt had to hold it up like that before engaging a target. Probably got the wobbles fairly quickly. Remember? Although it’s lightweight for a rifle, it’s a real bitch trying to keep it steady and locked on for any given period. Take a look at me. Comfortable position. Natural positioning of the hand against the neck and the arm’s resting quite nicely. I’ll easily outlast these two. Bet you their sights are bobbing back and forth between me and the Major here with their nervous breaths. They pull the trigger at the wrong time and they’ll take him out instead of me.’
Toni gave a quick glance to the soldiers. ‘It’s not as if you can just walk out of here. What’s say we just walk out and wait until you fall asleep? How long do you think you can last? Twenty-four hours? Forty-eight, maybe?’
Touché. Jay knew she was right. They only had to wait outside. It was obvious they had neutralised the two secret service agents and George already. But maybe Bill and Mary had got away in time. He cleared his throat. ‘Depends what’s more important to you, me or the Major.’
‘You won’t hurt him. You can’t. You may not be an interrogator anymore, but you still go by their code of ethics. Killing a prisoner is a big no-no. Semantics anyway. We haven’t got time for this bullshit.’
Toni turned and walked out of the room. The two soldiers still had their weapons trained on Jay. The Major was breathing heavy, but so far had said nothing, nor made to move.
George appeared at the doorway. A trickle of blood on his forehead and thick black tape across his mouth. Toni had one hand on his shoulder, guiding him into the room.
‘On your knees,’ she said.
George swayed as he went down one knee at a time. He looked at Jay. A look of finality in his eyes, of acceptance. He closed them before lowering his head.
Jay noticed a change in Toni. Something he hadn’t seen before. Ruthless. No innocence, no beauty. Just a stone-faced, cold, hard look. She held the silenced pistol at an angle pointed towards George’s head. She didn’t have to say anything. Jay could tell she would pull the trigger. He’d seen the look before. He slowly took his hand from the Major’s neck and dropped his weapon on the floor. The echo of the porcelain hitting the concrete bounced through the room. He pushed away from the Major and stood.
One of the soldiers placed plastic zip ties around Jay’s wrists, binding them tight behind his back. The other soldier retrieved the key and unchained the Major from the bolt in the floor. The Major hugged the blanket tight and paced the room while George assumed the position with the chain placed on his wrists. All the while Toni’s gaze never left Jay.
The Major stopped pacing and turned to Toni, one arm outstretched. ‘Give me the pistol.’
She raised her arm and peered over the top of the barrel at the Major. ‘Where’s my cousin? We had a deal.’
The Major lowered his hand and gave a slight grin. ‘Looks like you’re coming with us too. He’s still safe and as soon as we have this one locked up you can have your cousin back.’
‘He’s bluffing,’ Jay said. The butt of a rifle caught him on the shoulder blade, dropping him to his knees. A numbing sensation ran down his arm. He clenched his jaw and held his breath, waiting for more blows. They didn’t come and he slowly started his breathing pattern. He looked up.
The Major had dropped the blanket to the floor. His hands were pumping into fists by his side as he stared at Jay. ‘I’m going to enjoy finishing you when this is all done. It’s going to be a slow, painful death for you.’ He kinked his neck and nodded to the soldiers. They lifted Jay to his feet.
The Major turned back to Toni. ‘Where are the others?’
‘The two agents are just outside. The wife and his friend left before your men got here.’
The Major looked down and shook his head. ‘Bring them in.’
Toni lowered her pistol and backed out of the room. She returned in less than twenty seconds following the two gagged secret agents. They were instructed to kneel in the back corners of the room, facing the wall.
‘We wait for the wife to come back then waste them all,’ the Major said.
Toni said, ‘You can’t just go and kill them. They’re government agents. Just lock them in here and let’s go.’
‘They’ve seen my face thanks to Mr. Ryan here. Too much risk.’
Toni shook her head. ‘The wife hasn’t. Only these three.’
Jay thought it odd she made no mention of Bill.
Rubbing his hand across his forehead, the Major asked, ‘What about his friend?’
‘He was upstairs the whole time. Didn’t see your face.’
The Major wiped a hand across his face. ‘You want the other two to live. You kill these three and we get out of here before they come back.’
‘I ... I can’t just kill...’
‘You want your cousin back or not?’
Toni looked up at Jay then at each of the three bound men before she nodded.
‘Then you have the choice. Kill these three, the other two live and you get your cousin back.’
The Major nodded to the soldiers and Jay was pushed out of the interrogation room. He made it to the bottom of the stairs before he looked back into the room through the one-way mirror. The two soldiers and the Major stopped and turned to look as well. From their angle, they could see the bound men but not Toni.
One at a time, the agents fell to their sides, red exploding high on their backs. Toni walked up to them and checked their pulses. She looked up at the mirror. Tears streamed down her face. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
Something struck Jay as odd. Although the pistol had a silencer, it would still have made for a decent bang. In a confined area like the interrogation room, Toni would have ringing in her ears for quite some time. There shouldn’t have been any blood exploding from their backs either. Experience told him, if the bullets had made it through, blood would explode out of the exit wound. He wasn’t sure what had happened in there, but he knew the shootings had been staged.
‘Impressive. Didn’
t think she had it in her,’ the Major said. ‘Move.’
Jay contemplated what had happened as he was pushed up the stairs. He stopped at the top and waited for one of the soldiers to pass by and open the cellar door. He looked down towards the door of the interrogation room as Toni walked out. She looked up at him.
‘How’s it feel?’ Jay kept his voice low. Loud enough for her to hear if her ears weren’t ringing.
She gave the slightest nod and said, ‘Fuck you, Jay.’
TWENTY
Jay estimated an hour had passed between his captors shoving him face down and blindfolded into the back of a military Land Rover to when they dragged and unceremoniously dumped him onto a hard plastic mat. The blindfold had been replaced with a pair of blacked-out goggles and he sat cross-legged with his hands now cuffed in his lap. His injured knees once again screamed at him for relief.
A mouldy smell hung in the air and, from the echoes of footsteps, he knew he was in a shipping container. He had used them before as a holding area for prisoners and knew how effective they were for the conditioning process.
He assumed he was now in some kind of interrogation facility. And if his analysis of the Major covering his activities through the guise of training was accurate, it would be a good assumption the facility would be well guarded and built to hold prisoners.
A crisp breeze ruffled against his back, indicating he faced the back of the shipping container. This meant a camera would be mounted in the corner and to his left. It was the best spot to mount them to avoid glare as one of the container doors needed to remain open: always the right-hand side.
He tested to see if the guards were within the container and raised his cuffed hands. It took about a minute for a set of heavy boots to come thumping into the container.
The boots stopped behind him. ‘What?’
The voice was deeper than the Major’s. Jay lowered his hands. ‘Water?’