Eric Lawson wore the oiled leather and polished buckles of the uniform of a Brigadier General in the National Security Service like a second skin. His bearing was ramrod straight and military right down to the mirror polish on the jackboots that came almost to his knees. His expression and his eyes were colder than Saturn’s moons. He strode past the guard post at the entrance to Parker Center without so much as a challenge. The two frightened troopers there simply snapped to attention and saluted as he passed.
Once inside the busy headquarters, Eric barely hesitated. He remembered well where the Chief’s offices had been when Los Angeles had still retained its own police force, and he headed directly for them without delay. NSS troopers and civilians who passed him in the corridors stepped aside with wide, frightened eyes and allowed him to pass.
Eric stormed into the old Chief’s office without knocking, slamming the door deliberately back against the wall as he did so. Bannister looked up and gasped. “Lawson!”
“The very same.” Lawson’s tone was icy. “And you will address me as Brigadier Lawson. On your feet, Colonel.”
Bannister snapped to attention, his knees threatening to buckle. “But – ” he stammered. “But – you left the service.”
“You,” Eric replied blandly, “were supposed to think so.”
Bannister swallowed hard. “What can I do for you now, sir?”
“I’ve been recalled from my undercover duties specifically to take charge of your prisoner. Dr. Garrick is far too important a subject to be left to your incompetent interrogators, and I have some personal knowledge that could prove to be useful. Where is she?”
Bannister stammered a little. “Basement cellblock, for the moment.”
“I assume you have been proceeding with Phase I interrogation?”
Bannister nodded vigorously. “Yes.”
“Give me a full report on her status.”
“She’s been kept off balance, of course. A beating a few hours ago, but we were careful to avoid serious injury. Rape, of course. Sleep deprivation. No blankets, clothing, food or water. The usual. We haven’t started on the drugs or any serious questioning yet.”
At the mention of the rape, something glacial moved behind Eric’s eyes. A wiser man would have taken a step backward, but Bannister was too slow to see the shadow of death there.
“I see,” Eric said. His tone was very, very quiet and even. “Have her brought to this office at once.”
“But, sir –“
Eric moved quite close to Bannister, getting inside his personal space. “Please,” he said softly, “tell me that you’re questioning my orders.”
Bannister went white as a sheet. “N–no, sir. Not at all.” He turned quickly to his intercom and gave rapid instructions.
“You always were a waste of space,” Eric remarked. “If you want to learn the proper way to conduct an interrogation, feel free to observe.” He hitched one hip onto the corner of Bannister’s desk and smiled unpleasantly. “It’s never too late to learn something useful.”
* * *
Light stabbed into Kris’ eyes again, causing her to wince and cry out. Before she recovered sufficiently to react, she was snatched upright by the hair on her head and her arm twisted agonizingly behind her back, forcing her up on her toes.
She was shoved roughly down the corridor, having to run to keep the pressure off her arm. The door to Bannister’s office was flung open and Kris was thrown to the floor at Eric’s feet.
When Kris was able to lift her head, Eric’s cold smile brought her world crashing down around her shoulders. Stunned, totally unable to think past the betrayal that had just ended her world, Kris was completely unable to speak or move. She was snatched from the floor by her guard and thrown into a chair, then swiftly shackled to the arms and legs of the chair. The guard handed over keys to her shackles to a smiling Eric, then took up a parade rest stance behind her chair.
“Yes, Dr. Garrick,” Eric said. His voice was almost gentle. “We meet again. And I can see that you understand the implications. There are no secrets for you to protect any longer. What we must do here is to teach you the error of your ways, so that you can teach others.”
Kris remained frozen with shock and horror. There were no choices left – no hope of escape for herself or even for her friends. All she could pray for was an opportunity to force Eric to kill her prematurely. Drawing courage from abject hopelessness, she leaned forward as far as her restraints allowed and spat directly in Eric’s face.
Eric barely blinked. His voice remained mild. “You need to learn manners.” His leather-gloved backhand was vicious, and completely untelegraphed. It would have knocked her completely out of the chair if the chair had not been bolted to the floor and if she had not been shackled to it. Even Bannister gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his move. Quietly, for Bannister’s benefit, Eric added, “I think I’m going to enjoy this dance.”
Eric hit her again. And again. And again. The blows were agonizing, but Kris didn’t even feel them next to the pain Eric’s betrayal brought her. She was sagging, half conscious, before he even slowed his onslaught, but her tears fell faster than her blood.
With unhurried efficiency, Eric checked her pulse and breathing, then nodded to her guard. “I will require a stretcher detail to transport the prisoner to the rooftop heliport.”
The guard came sharply to attention and hurried from the room.
Bannister was shocked. “Lawson! What the hell are you playing at?”
“Brigadier Lawson,” Eric corrected softly. “I won’t tell you again, Colonel.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t have to answer your question, but I will. I am taking this prisoner back to Washington with me. I have certain resources available to me there that will peel her like an onion.”
“I protest, sir!”
“Fine, Colonel. You do that. In the meantime, sit down and shut up. I’m tired of listening to you.”
Speechless, Bannister sank into his chair.
Two troopers appeared in the doorway. Eric gestured them inside, where they knelt to open out the stretcher. “This prisoner is to be transported to the heliport,” he told them. “She is to be guarded in that location until I join you.”
Eric turned away from Bannister to unlock Kris’ shackles so that she could be lifted from her chair. When he leaned close to Kris, he found her blue eyes open and locked with his. They were full of pain and betrayal. Eric’s back was turned to everyone else in the room, so he risked mouthing a single silent word to her.
“Courage.”
Kris’ eyes widened, and she gasped softly, but she made no other sign as she was lifted and placed on the stretcher, then carried from the room.
Eric smiled. It had actually been a terrible and very foolish risk, and he wasn’t even sure why he’d done it. Kris’ defenses were completely down at such a time, and he should not have expected her to be able to control her shock and surprise, but her discipline had held. She had not betrayed him. In that brief moment, he was more proud of her than he had ever been of any human being.
When Eric turned back to face Bannister, his weapon was already in his hand. He was still smiling, the first genuine smile he’d enjoyed in many hours. “Now,” he remarked. “I have time to attend to you.”
Bannister went ashen, and sweat broke out on his forehead.
“I considered killing you,” Eric continued. “But I came to my senses. I’d really much rather leave you to your own kind. Don’t move a muscle, Bannister.”
With one hand, Eric rummaged briefly in Bannister’s desk for a roll of duct tape. He tossed it to Bannister from a couple of feet away. “Secure your feet to the chair.” Eric smiled again. “And I would do a very good job, if I were you.”
White-faced, Bannister began winding duct tape around his ankles and the legs of his chair. Eric waited until he’d layered it twenty or thirty times. “Now your left arm.”
Bannister turned a frightened look on Eric.
“Do it.”
Bannister began awkwardly winding tape with his right hand. Eric let him finish, then approached and pressed his sidearm gently to Bannister’s throat with his left hand. “Now let me take a brief moment to explain something to you,” Eric said gently. “I am sincerely hoping and praying that you will give me the smallest excuse.” Eric felt the trembling in Bannister’s neck and nodded. “Right arm, please.”
Slowly and carefully, Bannister rested his remaining arm on the arm of his chair. He didn’t so much as twitch as Eric used one hand to wrap it securely with the tape. When Eric had finished, he holstered his sidearm, then used the duct tape to gag Bannister so thoroughly that he was barely left enough of an air hole to breathe.
“I would recommend that you not panic,” Eric said mildly as he wrapped the remaining tape around the chair and Bannister’s torso, further restricting his movement. “I don’t think you have enough air for it.”
Bannister made a very faint, incoherent sound.
Eric picked up Bannister’s phone, dialed for an outside line, and punched in a cell phone number. It was answered on the first ring.
“Carver.”
“This is Lawson,” Eric snapped. “Are you in position?’
“Affirmative. Standing by,” Paul replied.
“Extraction four five lima, two zero minutes. Hostile LZ.”
“Will comply.”
Eric broke the connection without further comment and nodded at Bannister. “That little phone call won’t look at all nice on your office telephone records, Colonel. Allow me to also point out that your sidearm is still in place, and that I have not so much as touched it. That should raise some interesting questions about just how you were overpowered.”
He took a deep breath and straightened with an air of chilly satisfaction. “If you are going to order the gang rape of a prisoner, I hope you are prepared to meditate – for some considerable time – on the consequences. When does the cleaning crew arrive tonight? About two in the morning, isn’t it?” He walked toward the door. His last glimpse of Bannister was of the man’s purple face, distorted and desperate as he tried to yell past several layers of duct tape. “I would say hasta luego,” Eric added softly, “but I really don’t believe we will be meeting again.” He closed the door gently behind him.
Posted under Uncategorized
This post was written by Kate on October 1, 2008
