Dmitry smiled easily. “You remind me of someone. Gabriel’s mother. She was like you. A freedom fighter. Determined to make a difference. Determined to make the world right.” He sat up in the chair, securing her full attention. “She never did. Her ideals helped a few people in a few places, sure. She gave out water, food, guns to people who needed them. But she never changed governments and neither will you. That’s just a piece of free advice.”
“So give up then?” Valeriya asked, eyes burning with passion and hope. “Let the world burn?”
“No,” Dmitry said as though the answer was obvious. “Change your strategy, little girl.”
Valeriya knew that she was losing ground. She had to change the conversation before she ended up locked in her bedroom for the rest of this operation. “Speaking of strategy, I want to be on the team that goes in to get Gabriel,” she said, knowing that at first he would turn her down.
Dmitry scoffed. “You must be out of your mind. Look at you. You’re a little girl. I applaud your desire, but…”
“I can be an asset,” she said forcefully. “I know Donetsk much better than any of your men would. I also know the people. I can help and you don’t lose anything if you lose me. Keep my brother here as collateral. If I don’t secure my end of the deal, then you have my most valued asset.”
“And you wouldn’t offer such a deal unless you were certain that you could help, right?”
“Right,” she said sincerely.
Dmitry was frank about his thought process. He admired her persistence, but her desires were not at the top of his list. “Whoever has my nephew is planning something. I’m waiting to see what that something is and what their demands are. If I think that you can be helpful in this – either by helping us in Donetsk or by trading you and your brother for him. I’ll let you know.”
Valeriya didn’t bat an eye. Trading her didn’t scare her, her brother was another subject all together. “Please, I realize that you might not like me, especially since I stand against your Russia, but you have to believe that I love Gabriel very much. You don’t have to threaten my brother. I will help you freely. I will give my life for him.”
Anatoly turned and looked at her. Dropping his eyes, he took a seat.
“My Russia?” Dmitry smirked. “Valeriya Nenya, you have no idea what you are talking about. My patriotism is nothing that I care to share with you, not because I don’t like you, but because you are far too young to understand. What I will say is this, you need to use this time to do a little soul searching. You might love your country very much, but does it love you? Even your own comrades were willing to sell you down the river. Your brother, Alexei, was more than likely the target of the Neo-Nazis because his captain set him up. And the only one willing to save you was a Vor soldier and my nephew. It’s time you started to rethink how your life plays out, now that you have a second chance.”
Valeriya couldn’t argue that. “What I do know is that I still have a few people who are loyal to me in Ukraine and what I have and what I can offer is eyes and ears on the ground to get him back. Now, if trading me is the only thing that you can do, do it. I’m not afraid of those Nazi fucks, just leave my baby brother alone.”
Anatoly smirked and spoke under his breath. “She’s got fire.”
“Yes, she does,” Dmitry said with a grin. “Ms. Nenya…”
“Yes,” Valeriya said, waiting on baited breath for Dmitry to accept her offer.
“You may be excused now. Thank you for your time.” Dmitry smiled at her and motioned toward the door. He had other business to attend to, he’d deal with her later.
Standing up, Valeriya nodded toward him respectfully and followed Nadei out of the room.
Chapter Two
I’ll Slap You…
Accelerated torture tactics was a skill that one didn’t put on a resume or brag about at the local country club, but it was one skill that Dmitry had mastered over the years and had become notorious for carrying it out. In fact, it was one of the things that separated him from the pack.
Most men in his position had a stomach for beating a man within an inch of his life, but few men had a skill for making a man wish for death by inflicting strategic and unusual torment over long periods of time. Other bosses sent their henchmen to do their work, but Dmitry always got up close and personal with his enemies, looked them in the eye, did the heavy lifting himself. There were two reasons for his hands-on approach. His men saw that he wasn’t someone to trifle with and his enemies knew that the Medlov Crime Family took insult very seriously, especially when they received the remains of the deceased in very creative packaging.
He was no masochist. There was no deep-seeded pleasure that came from seeing another man writhing in sheer, agonizing pain, but in some instances, it was the only effective way to encourage full-transparency from a hostage.
On an emotional level, the prisoner had to be fully immersed in the bleakness of his situation by being stripped of all control and almost all hope. He had to be confined to a place where there was no peace or comfort. He had to be left alone with his thoughts in order to create a momentary psychosis and paranoia.
On a physical level, a prisoner had to be stripped of his basic human abilities and made to feel like an abandoned animal and finally he had to be pushed to the brink of all physical limits and forced to face and envision his own death. Only then was the prisoner truly imprisoned. Only then, did he shed all loyalties and comply with every single command of his captors.
Whether Dmitry liked it or not, torture was on the menu for lunch today, and he had a hunger to get to it.
The “barn” only had one purpose. It was a repurposed detainee center for undesirables.
On the outside, it was just a barn, red in color, wooden and unremarkable. The only thing that caused in curiosity about the structure was the cameras placed at every angle and the guards who walked the perimeter with man-eating dogs.
As if taking an afternoon stroll, he and a few men headed out of the back of the mansion across the green plush lawn, past the site where his father and best friend, Davyd’s headstones sat under a tree toward the barn in a quiet stroll.
This afternoon was a pleasant one. The sweltering heat had subsided because of morning scattered showers and blue skies carried cool winds with it and patchy white clouds. Birds chirped happily in the towering Sessile oak trees and deer dashed across the vast green lands back into the forest.
“I can never get enough of this view,” Dmitry said, taking in a breath of fresh air.
Anatoly agreed. “I should have brought the dogs. They love to play out here.”
“Next time,” Dmitry said, making a mental note to plan a trip back to Prague for family time in the upcoming months. He cleared his throat and swatted a mosquito. “I plan to get what I need from him today, no matter what it takes. We’re losing valuable time here.”
“What do you need from me to get it done,” Anatoly asked, never afraid to step up the intensity of interrogations for his father.
“Once we’re done talking to our new little friend, I need you to locate any of his remaining male adult family members back in Donetsk,” Dmitry said, stopping at the front door of the barn for the security personnel to open the electronic entrance. “Find out who they are, where they are and how many of them there are. It will come in handy later.”
Anatoly was happy to assist. “Sure, Papa. I can have it for you this afternoon.”
“See if Valeriya can provide some insight, considering she wants to help so much.”
As the doors opened to the dark barn, sunlight flooded in shining on Faddei, who had been stripped naked and locked in a steel kennel with a bag over his head.
Dmitry ran his hand over the wall and turned on the overhead halogen lights. The sound of them flickering overhead made Faddei jump up and scoot to the corner of his small cage.
“Take him out of the box,” Dmitry said, walking over to a bench to take a seat. He waited as his men snatched t
he urine covered man from his small enclosure and dragged him by his arms over to the bench across from Dmitry. Sitting him down on the chair, they tied his hands behind him and snatched the hood off his head.
The lights above made Faddei squint, having been in darkness for nearly two days. Snatching his head away, he inhaled a deep breath and tried to pull his hands out of the knotted rope.
“Hey.” Dmitry reached over and slapped Faddei as hard as he could in the face. “Don’t worry about your hands.” He raised a brow. “Worry about me.”
Faddei blinked fast. Sweat poured down his face as he adjusted to the burning sting of Dmitry’s first blow. “Who are you?” he finally asked, throat sore from being deprived of water.
Dmitry sat back down on the bench. “You know who I am. You know what I want. The only question I have for you is, are you going to give it to me?”
Faddei’s eyes lowered to the dirt floor. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know why I’m here.”
“It’s going to be like that, eh?” Dmitry asked, as one of his men brought over a large bucket of water.
“I’m telling the truth,” Faddei whispered.
“People like you never tell the truth,” Dmitry said, rubbing his large hands together. “But I’ll play your game for a few seconds, because after this, you will play mine for the rest of your very short life. My name is Dmitry Medlov.”
Anatoly walked from behind Faddei over to his father’s side. Faddei eyed the familiar face of the man he had met on Gabriel’s first day in Donetsk.
“You already know my son, Anatoly,” Dmitry said, watching Faddei’s every movements. “And you are here because I want my nephew back. What about you, Anatoly?”
Anatoly sucked his teeth and shrugged. “He’s grown on me over the years; so, da, I want him back.” He eyed Faddei wanting at that very moment to use his carving knife to peel the skin off the man’s face.
Faddei fought his dry throat to speak. “I don’t have Gabriel.”
“That’s pretty obvious, but you know who does,” Dmitry said almost in a whisper. “And you’re going to tell me who that is so that I can go and get him.”
Faddei opened his mouth to speak, but Dmitry stopped him with a raised finger. “Do know that from this moment on, any lies will be punished harshly. So be careful with your words or I swear I’ll slap the shit out of you again.”
The pause between the men was pregnant and loud. Digging his feet into the soft earth below, Faddei let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know who has your nephew. I don’t know anything. I was at the hotel with the other captains trying to find out who had him when your man kidnapped me.”
Anatoly threw a curve ball. “Well, maybe you can tell us where Valeriya Nenya is. Maybe she is with him.”
Faddei spoke a small truth to his knowledge. “Valeriya is dead. Whoever took Gabriel killed her.” His voice trembled as sweat fell from his blonde wiry hair into his eyes. “One of the men who went after Valeriya before the attack called back afterwards and said she was killed during the ambush. That is all I know.”
“Another lie,” Dmitry said, slapping Faddei again. Standing up, he picked up a five-gallon bucket of water and ice and stood over Faddei. “Do you know what happens to a man when he’s been in elevated heat for long periods of time and then is suddenly drowned in ice cold water? He can go into shock.”
Faddei was about to lie again when Dmitry turned the bucket upside down on Faddei’s head, dousing him in icy water. The same guard brought two more five-gallon buckets of ice water over and sat them in front of Dmitry.
Unable to breathe, Faddei’s mouth flew open in a loud gasp as he went into a cold shock response. The chilling cold water had just the effect Dmitry wanted it to have. For 60 seconds, Faddei was left paralyzed and nearing hyperventilation.
Dmitry didn’t bother to ask the question again. He simply dropped the bucket to the ground, allowing the loud sound to ring in Faddei’s ears as he picked up another bucket and doused him again.
Again, Faddei gasped, this time louder, as the water pooled around his genitals and soaked his body, cleaning off the dirt and urine that stained his body. Trying to catch his breath, he threw his head back and spit water towards Dmitry’s face.
“Oh, this one’s a spitter,” Anatoly said, motioning toward the men to bring more buckets.
Dmitry leaned over him, putting his hands on both of Faddei’s shoulders to look into his eyes and then spit directly into his face. “Fuck you, little man,” Dmitry said, eyes wild. “I hope that’s not all you’ve got, because we’re just getting started.” He reached back and slapped Faddei in the face again.
Snatching off his suit coat, Dmitry threw it on the ground in the dirt and rolled his neck. “Faddei wants to play, gentlemen.” He rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his collar. “Good. I’m glad, because I want to play too.”
Rocking on the bench, Faddei growled. “I don’t know anything!”
“Bring the board out,” Dmitry said, walking over to the utility table to get a dirty piece of cloth that had been used to clean the pig pens out.
The sound of a long board dragging across the dirt toward the back of him sent a chill up Faddei’s spine. Without asking, he already knew that he was about to be water boarded.
“You will learn before this is over not to lie to me,” Dmitry warned.
The men snatched Faddei up and threw him on the board with his head tilted back and his legs elevated. Dmitry walked over to him as he struggled. “Where is my nephew?” he asked again.
“I don’t know!” Faddei screamed.
Dmitry put the stinking rag over Faddei’s face, then clenched his pointy nose as Anatoly picked up the ice cold bucket of water and slowly and steadily began to pour it over Faddei’s face. The barn filled with gurgling sounds as Faddei struggled to breathe and fought to get his hands free from the men who held him down.
“Where is he!?” Dmitry demanded, voice chillingly stable.
“I…” Faddei struggled, feeling as though he would drown at any moment.
“Speak up,” Anatoly taunted. “Or do you want to spit some more in my father’s face, you worthless son of a bitch?”
The cold water started to sting Faddei’s skin and numb his face. Coughing up water, he tried to close his mouth but Dmitry pried it open. “Drowning is a horrible experience,” he said to his men. “The subject will focus on one thing while you are waterboarding him and that is not dying.” He clenched the man’s mouth tight enough to make it bleed. “But I have to be honest, even though they try to hold on, some of these motherfuckers just give out during the interrogation.”
Faddei gurgled below them.
Dmitry watched him slowly start to give out. “Sometimes, you have to ditch the body and start fresh with a new prisoner.” He leaned closer to Faddei. “You happen to know where I can get any new prisoners, Faddei? You have any brothers or nephews that you’d like to take your place?”
Dmitry got an immediate reaction at his threat. “I don’t know anything,” he managed to get out in between coughing up water.
“You sure about that?” Dmitry asked, raising a hand to stop the water. He pulled the rag from Faddei’s face and looked into Faddei’s bloodshot eyes. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” he asked again with his head tilted.
Faddei took a deep breath while contemplating his situation. He knew that he had to tell the man something, but to tell the truth would lead them straight to the Nazis and put his family in danger. “All I know is that the Russians were going to stage an attack on Valeriya after Gabriel had left the country.”
“And how do you know that?” Dmitry asked, wiping Faddei’s face with the shitty rag. He allowed the man to tell his lie without letting him know that he knew it wasn’t the Russians. Evidently, this idiot didn’t understand the sheer breath of his reach.
Faddei shook his head. “Because I was the one who arranged it.”
“You arranged it?” Dmitry asked.
“Yes,” Faddei confessed. “But not directly. I used one of my men as a go-between.”
“And who might that be?”
“A man named Olek,” Faddei said, hoping his misdirection would save his life. “I swear. I set it up through him. I just wanted to get rid of Valeriya. She was too much of a target, but I did not have anything to do with Gabriel being captured by them.”
“Yes, that is an unfortunate turn of events.” Dmitry’s stoic face never changed. Raising up, he walked over to the wall and ran his hand over a small white knob that lowered a metal beam from the wall. It stopped at about six feet from the floor. “Shackle his feet to the cuffs and raise it to seven feet.” He smiled at Faddei. “Eye level.” Turning on the faucet, he cleaned his hands in the sink.
“I’ve told you everything that I know,” Faddei whimpered as he looked at the menacing contraption.
“Sure you have,” Dmitry said, shaking his head.
“It’s going to be a very, very long afternoon,” Anatoly said, throwing down the bucket.
With his feet shackled, his hands retied behind his back and his naked body suspended upside down, Faddei looked on as Dmitry walked back up to him. At eye level just as Dmitry had ordered, the two men looked directly at each other.
“Where is Olek?” Dmitry asked.
“He’s dead,” Faddei said. “The Russian murdered him during the attack.”
Dmitry reached over and touched Faddei’s stomach. “How strong is your core?”
Faddei tightened his stomach at the same time that Dmitry reached back and punched him square in the gut. Screaming out, Faddei kicked his legs in the shackles. “He’s dead!”
“That’s true. Olek is dead,” Dmitry said, looking at his watch. “But it’s not true that the Russians have him.” He punched Olek again, this time in the ribs.
Wheezing for air, Faddei coughed.
“Do you know how I know that he’s not with the Russians? Because I’ve spoken with them. They don’t have him, but you know where he is, and I’m not going to stop until you tell me where.” Punching Olek several times in the stomach and ribs, Dmitry stepped back and wiped his face with his hands. “Stay with me,” he ordered Faddei. “The fun is just getting started.”
Gabriel's Regret: Book Two (The Medlov Men 3) Page 5
