by Tiana Laveen
The lights from the ceiling began to blink frantically, then went berserk until finally, the entire place went pitch black.
She didn’t move a muscle but tried to adjust to the darkness, to no avail. She couldn’t even make out her own hand in front of her face. Seconds later, the room echoed with a loud sliding noise of the bolted door being unlocked and slid to the side. In he walked with a small light in his hand, forming a ray of illumination. His large shadow cast upon the floor and wall, making him appear larger than life. She remained still as he turned towards her.
“It’s time to begin…”
Stripped down to her underwear at gunpoint, he placed a photo of John on the floor directly at her feet as she sat in the chair. The lights were now shining bright, one spotlight directed upon the star of the show. The woman wasn’t quite yet motivated to perform, but he had plans to change that. He’d dropped the room temperature to 40 degrees, and would keep on lowering it.
“Get up. Now.”
She wrapped her arms around her body, shivering as she got to her feet. Each time he asked her to reveal where Gable was, she refused. He found this slightly admirable, the way she held on to her pride, believing she had a chance of enduring her current condition. But, of course, they’d just begun.
“Tiffany, this may be a good time to tell you who I am. My name is Phoenix Hale. I’m the Director for the Office of National Drug Policy. I am a former DEA agent, but still work with them as a consultant and assist with various covert assignments.” Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “One of the men your cousin killed was Johnathan Price, one of the most proficient and valuable agents since the DEA’s inception in 1973. The Drug Enforcement Administration is a federal agency that focuses on drug smuggling and usage within the country, but of course, someone such as yourself more than likely is quite learned in the laws and organizations of the land, which directly affect your point of sales.”
She visibly swallowed, but her expression remained impassive.
“We work directly with the FBI, Border Control, Homeland Security and Immigration and Customs Enforcement. We know what you’re doing before you even know.” He pointed in her face. “Anywhere Gable goes, we’ll be there, and if by some chance we’re not, we’ll arrive before he can escape. Each hour that passes, the worse things will be for him. You’re not doing him any favors, Tiffany. If my men see him, they won’t arrest him. No, they’ll shoot him down like the dog that he is unless otherwise instructed. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know where Gable is…” she repeated like some broken record.
“I’m not some random guy who’s taken a vigilante stance. I’m your worst nightmare, honey. Do you know why? Because the things that are about to happen to you, if you live through them, they’ll stain your brain and you’ll never get them out of your mind. I’ve given you multiple chances, and you did nothing but waste my fucking time. Now.” He crossed his arms over his chest and paced back and forth in front of her. “This is your final chance to tell me where Gable is before things gets really, really bad, Ms. McCall.”
“I don’t have anything else to say to you.” She balled her mouth up tight as she gave him a hard, threatening glance.
“Baby, I’ve gotten confessions out of drug kingpins with far more bravado and proficiency than you. So here we are … this is the route you’ve chosen to travel with me.” His eyes narrowed on her. She snarled, not even blinking, taking him on. “Fine. It’s settled. You’ve made your choice. Get ready to experience suffering like you’ve never known…”
He left the room.
She stood against the wall, watching the door slide closed and hearing the clank of the lock. Her knees began to knock against one another as the cool air drew her very soul out from its confines and froze her to near death. Wisps of breath spiraled before her eyes like winding storm clouds. The door soon opened again and the bastard remerged with two large bags of ice and a plastic wading pool.
No … he can’t be serious!
She screamed in her damn mind, but refused to utter a word. In moments flat, she was secured to the wading pool, her wrists tied behind her head and her ankles bound in twine, too. She couldn’t move, she could do nothing, and before she knew it, something soft was shoved so hard in her mouth she nearly threw up. The folded fabric absorbed the spit along her tongue as she looked at the man who dumped chunks of ice all over her body. She screamed in pain, her eyes watering, and the temperature continued to drop. Pieces of frozen death rendered unbelievable pain as they hit her flesh over and over again. Leaving once more, he returned with a large pitcher of ice cold water, which he poured into the pool, making the perfect recipe for hypothermia. Snatching the scarf out of her mouth, the monster glared down at her and knelt at her side, smiling.
“Are you ready to talk?”
“Are you ready to kiss my mothafuckin’ Black ass? Fuck you and your mother, too!”
Shoving the scarf back into her mouth, he poured more ice onto her quaking body. Her stifled shrieks thundered inside her body and her throat grew raw. The food she’d eaten threatened to rise up and repeat, flow up her esophagus and force her to vomit as she struggled for dear life. Her limbs jerked in strange, uncontrollable ways, her body no longer hers as it gave way to the torture, forcing her resolve to start dismantling.
“Fuck me, huh?” He sat back in a comfortable fashion, dumping out the second hefty bag, then tossing it to the side. “You like saying that, don’t you? It seems someone of your acumen would have a broader vocabulary. Anyway, I looked into your background, Tiffany, the shit people like you want to keep private. You’ve been fucking people over for a mighty long time, and you’re quite good at it, too. You’re a con artist to your core. In different circumstances, I might have wanted to hire and train someone like you … such a waste of a brilliant mind.
“That’s how Gable pulled this off, isn’t it?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his gaze on hers. “He had help, didn’t he? Unlike you, he’s not exactly top notch in the intelligence department.” Snatching the scarf out of her mouth, he shoved a fistful of ice cubes down her throat, making her gag, before giving it a hard shove back between her teeth. Tears of pain rolled fast and hard out the corners of her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling, praying to a God she barely ever gave the time of day to.
“See.” He raised a knee and rested his arm over it in a leisurely sort of way. “Gable’s got street cred. Don’t get me wrong, but when it comes to devising a beautifully horrific plan, well, that’s all you, isn’t it? In fact, you’ve been the brains behind all of his big actions, his smooth as a baby’s ass, well run networks and takeovers. You invaded other territories, wiped out your competition, and he managed that with the help of dear ol’ cousin Tiffany. He now has to have you. He relies on you, but he’s probably the type of man that’s too proud to admit it. Now, he’s gotten you mixed up in something you can never undo and when I’m done with you, baby, you’ll regret the day he, you, your mother, and your grandmother were born.” He casually poured more water into the pool and she soon realized she was losing the feeling in her toes and fingertips, all sensation vanishing, leaving only a slight itch and a horrid numbness.
I’m going into shock. My body is going into fucking shock.
He snatched the scarf out of her mouth once again and she turned towards him, wishing for just ten seconds to be free so she could reach out and kill him with her bare hands. But instead, he rose to his feet and started walking to the door.
“Where are you going?!” she screeched, using all of her strength to call out to him.
He turned to face her and shrugged. “To get myself something to eat … maybe watch a little television and take a nap. Enjoy your bath. Oh,” he said, looking down at his watch, “the temperature in this room needs to be lowered in order to maintain this nice set up I have for you. If I don’t sleep too long, maybe when I return I’ll find you still alive. If not…” He shrugged. “I’ll be fine with that, too. B
ecause I know you are part of the reason John is dead now, Tiffany. You were no innocent bystander. This was your little pet project. I can just let you die. Yeah … then half of the problem is gone. Half is better than none at all, right?” He began to walk away again.
“You won’t! You need me to find Gable!”
“I’ll find Gable with or without you, Tiffany. You just would have saved me a little extra time is all, and your own life in the process.”
“Wait!” she hollered after him but he ignored her. Seconds later, the room went pitch black, the temperature fell, and the flashing light of the corner ceiling cameras taunted her. Fighting back angry tears, she begged herself to stay afloat, to not give in and become weak by the bastard’s torture tactics. Time passed, and she was certain her heart was slowing…
She’d lost all feeling in her feet now and the slow crawl of hypothermia began to make its way up her ankles. She sighed and gritted her teeth as her brain began to fog and the threat of losing consciousness hung overhead. She had no idea how long Phoenix had been gone, but each moment felt like an eternity.
He’s in the government. I saw that badge; it looked legit. He confirmed who he is, so there’s no way out of this! Panic set in as she began to hallucinate.
I’ve got to give him what he wants… I’m going to die if I don’t. He’s going to really let me die! No!
Tiffany, he needs you, don’t believe him!
She huffed and sniffed, moved as much as her stiff and contorted body would allow to generate a bit of body heat. Her eyes fluttered, her teeth chattered, her bones ached. She winced when a sudden bright light bathed the room.
Him again.
He wore a fresh pair of dark jeans and a thick black sweater. His jaw twitched as he neared her. Dropping to one knee, he placed a hand along one cheek and then the other, looking deeply into her eyes.
“You don’t look so good…” He checked her pulse and nodded. “Now, let’s move to the next phase. It would be a shame for you to escape this discomfort by losing consciousness or going to sleep. I promise to keep you in the thick of it. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to inject you with a special concoction that will keep you awake for a very long time. The lights will be brightened and loud, horrible noises will be filtered into the room at earsplitting volume. That’s called noise pollution; some call it sound torture. Either term you prefer is fine,” he said. “You’ll be sleep deprived and have hallucinations. You may even go crazy. That’s a common side effect.”
“You have …you have to stop this.” Her eyes hooded as a deathly feeling washed over her.
“Oh no, baby, we’re just getting started. This is the easy part. If I can’t break you just yet, then I will introduce you to my personal favorite technique—the tiny tin.” She blinked several times and stared at him, unable to take her eyes off him as she floated in and out of reality. “The tiny tin is a little metal room, about 4x4. There is no light, but there is an ungodly heat and boy does the air get short in there.” The sight of his piercing blue eyes, coupled with his clinical tone, had her choking back tears. “Oh, you don’t believe me?” Plucking her out of the pool, he slung her over his shoulder and walked briskly, forcing her cold, wet body to shiver like a leaf. Moments later, she was staring at an enclosure that looked just as he described, only worse…
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to put you in there now and implement a few special experiences, catered just for you … no food, only 8 ounces of water once a day.”
“This is … no … this … can’t be…”
“It’s your life, sweetheart. I have a job to do, so sometimes you might not even get any water for several days as I’m working. Or, maybe I will accidentally forget you altogether. Who knows?” A heinous grin split his face. He placed her on the ground, her wrists and ankles still tightly bound. She wouldn’t stop shaking, her mind imprisoned by the weakness of her body. She hated herself, her limitations, the way her body wouldn’t match the bravado of her brain. The way it begged her to spill the goods.
With one hand, he opened the gate, which moved with screechy, rusted out groans. As he lifted the tiny cell door, panic struck her. She peered inside, seeing absolutely nothing but a pit of darkness. Dropping to the ground, she refused to walk inside. The enclosure was so small, it wasn’t fit for a caged dog. She shrieked as he grabbed her by her neck and tossed her inside the thing, her skin scratching against the harsh surface of the walls.
“Stoooop!!!” She raised a shaky hand, pleading with her body and apologizing to her mind and heart. “I’ll talk to you. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”
He stood right outside the door, looking down at her. Slowly crossing his arms over his midsection, he only glared. His expression didn’t change, but he appeared to be listening. “I’ll tell you everything, all of it … just … just let me out of here…”
She sighed—tired, beaten, and defeated…
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sitting by a space heater, sipping on a large bowl of hot soup, he observed her from behind the camera of the small office. He didn’t feel the need to speak to her just yet.
Phoenix had taken her invitation to confess, placed her back in the large room with the temperature now a comfortable 68 degrees, and gave her time. Normally, while dealing with a subject, he’d strike while the iron was still hot, refraining from offering a lick of comfort until the exact goal was reached, but his gut told him to do otherwise. He took all of his debriefings on a case by case basis. Tiffany was in so much physical pain, she wasn’t thinking straight. She’d become semi-incoherent once he’d placed her inside the cage. He needed to get her to a level of wellbeing, at least enough to get her blood flowing to her brain again.
He’d put a fresh shirt and yoga pants inside the room for her, along with dry underwear and a pair of thick socks. He’d watched her race to the garments as if her life depended upon it, quickly covering herself. When he’d offered a warm meal, she’d accepted. Now he watched her scarf it down, the liquid splashing about in the bowl with each spoonful raised to her lips.
On a sigh, he left his post behind the scenes and joined her. She was sitting on the only chair in the room, a blanket wrapped around her body. He stood in front of her, one leg extended forward, his hand on his gun, nursing a need to delve deep inside of her. He motioned to her with a wave of his fingers.
“Speak.”
Her breathing was labored, her eyes glossy and limbs stiff. He looked at the way her hands shook as she held her spoon. The instrument clinked against the ceramic bowl and there was no way she could make it stop. She lifted her head but looked past him, staring at a blank wall.
He clapped his hands two times, loud, garnering her attention. As if coming out of a trance, she hooked his gaze, trepidation dancing in her beautiful, dark eyes. “After I talk to you, you’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.” She looked away from him, set her empty bowl and spoon on the floor, and folded her hands in her lap.
“I told you the truth when I said I didn’t know where he was. In case something happened, it was best I didn’t know … it’s part of our system in case … well, in case something like this were to happen but, I can help you narrow it down.”
“I already know that.” He slid his hand into his pocket and rocked back on his heels. “If I believed you knew exactly where he was, you would have broken down sooner. As my grandmother used to say, ‘You can’t get blood from a turnip.’ But, I was aware you knew just enough to help me find him quickly.”
“How long have I … been in here?” Her voice was low, barely audible.
“You lasted six and a half days in here, much longer than some.” He could see on her face she had no idea of time, days, minutes, nor did she understand until then how she’d achieved something few had managed before her.
“All that time in darkness … then light … cold … ice … body twisted up.” She said the words aloud,
as if trying to convince herself that it was true.
“You asked me if I was going to kill you … you know that you should die with him.” She lifted her chin a bit higher, but said nothing. “This was your idea.” He pursed his lips and glared down at her, hating her for all that she was. “Gable could have never pulled off something this sophisticated without your help. Getting them to pull over … finding the money and the drugs … cracking codes and leaving no evidence. All the fuck ups, the way we found you—it was all because of him, his sloppiness, not you. I’m even more convinced of that now. This was your baby, wasn’t it?” He bent down, palms rested on his knees, and stared daggers at her.
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Bitch, I’m telling you.” He gritted his teeth, wishing to bring her more pain as she sat there stewing in her homegrown arrogance, pissing him the hell off. He pulled out a crumpled crime scene photo of John from his pocket, blood oozing out of the man’s head and chest, a vacant look in his eyes, and shoved it in her face. She blinked several times, tried to turn away, but he grabbed her chin, digging in her flesh with his fingernails, and forced her to see. “Look at it!”
Her gaze rested on the photo.
“He had a wife, children! You took not only his life, but a piece of theirs, too.”
He snatched his hand away from her, letting her turn her attention to the floor. Strands of hair fell in front of her eyes as her shoulders slumped. “You’re going to tell me everything, and I mean everything. I’m curious though.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know how you got close to the Disciples in the manner you did to find out such confidential information. I assume Gable was your ticket in, and then you left enough breadcrumbs for them to be viable suspects. You set them up, and they didn’t even know it … just amazing.” She slowly looked up into his eyes and he saw the devil. Hatred oozed from her as she gave him the once over.