"You will answer all of my questions, or else I will ensure that you never see the light of day again. Is that what you prefer, Strongarm? Or should I say Weakarm?”
Nathaniel couldn’t help rolling his eyes. The swift punch to his gut in response didn’t surprise him in the slightest.
“Would you prefer for your other arm to be broken? To have your legs next? If you survive that, as we would break your femur and not your tibia or your fibula, oh no. Did you know that sometimes the trauma and shock from breaking your femur can kill a man? So if you were to survive having your femurs shattered, yes, shattered, your back will be next. You will not only never see the sun again, you will never walk again.”
The man continued to talk, but Nathaniel ignored him. In his mind, he could see himself dancing at his reception with his lovely bride. He would twirl her and dip her. Hell, Nathaniel would even take dance lessons if she wanted. Or maybe he’d surprise her with them and knock her socks off. He would do anything for her.
Just like he would do anything for his country.
Nathaniel suffered through more punches to his stomach and his chest. One blow hit against his wound. No way had it been an accident. It took everything within Nathaniel to not react, to not defend himself, to not fight back. He was a Marine after all. Fighting was what he did.
But this battle just might prove to be one that he could not win.
>>><<<
Days passed. At least Nathaniel thought it was days. His life fell into a terrible, twisted ordeal. Somehow, the cold was long gone, replaced by a suffocating heat. Considering Nathaniel had been here for so long without anything to eat or drink, he feared dehydration would soon rear its ugly head.
The leader of his torture was named Kronston Taer. Once had he brought in a light and blinded Nathaniel. After hours of torture, Nathaniel could finally keep his eyes open long enough to adjust to the harsh light. Well, one eye. The left was swollen shut. Kronston was short, stout, built like a barrel. Although he was round, he had a fair amount of muscle on him. He backhanded Nathaniel one time, and the resulting fat lip had yet to heal.
Just then, the cell creaked open. Nathaniel hated it, but he forced himself to stand, careful not to jar his arm. His broken arm wasn’t healing well. How could it? He had no clothes to fashion a sling. He had no means to keep his body clean either. The only benefit to lacking food and drink meant that he did not have to pee much, and he hadn’t had to take a crap either. A sure sign of dehydration, now that he thought about it.
“So Nathaniel Weakarm…” Taer said.
Nathaniel swallowed hard.
“Ah, you didn’t think that we would not bother to learn about you, did you? Considering you wouldn’t share your own details, we had to hunt them down ourselves. And we know your parents are dead. I don’t see a ring on your finger, but then again, not all military men wear their rings.”
Nathaniel swallowed again and did his best not to react.
“Ah, so there is someone else in your life. Maybe we should go and find her, bring her here. Would you like that? Some company in your cell? No? Then start talking, Nathaniel Weakarm. Tell us what your unit wishes to accomplish. Of course, I have… What is the word? Assumptions? Guesses? Theories! I have theories, but I would much rather know what you know. Silence still? I swear you wish for me to cut out your tongue. All right, men. String him up.”
But the men did much worse than merely hang Nathaniel from the ceiling. The rope holding him up was so tight they burned his wrists. He feared his arms would be yanked out of their sockets. But then they whipped his backwash what felt like barbed wire.
Nathaniel did open his mouth now. He screamed.
Today, he did not break, but that day may very well come soon.
>>><<<
It happened the next time Kronston Taer and his thugs came in. They beat him senseless. First, they carved into his back with sharp blades. Blood ran down his back and legs. Nathaniel knew he was close to breaking. It was becoming harder and harder to picture his lovely fiancée. All he could focus on was the intense heat, the pain, and his terrible hunger.
But then they brought out a bat. It hit against Nathaniel’s legs, the back of his knees, and he crumbled to the ground. Nathaniel brought up his hands to protect his face.
Bam! Smash!
The watch. The gift from his love. The watch was broken, shattered, devastated.
Nathaniel broke down and cried, giving into dismay, despair, and grief. He would maintain his silence for as long as he could, but he knew and accepted that it would cost him his life.
He was going to die here in this prison cell. He would never see his love again.
And that singular truth tore him up even more than the scars on his back.
Chapter 4
A siren blaring rudely woke Shauna the next morning. At once, she sprang out of bed, made it, changed her clothes, and rushed out of the hall. Lela and the other female Sergeants were right behind her. They were stationed off-base, in a small facility, but Shauna knew their days here were over.
“Are you all right?” Shauna asked Lela.
“No. I tried to convince the nurse to test me last night, but she refused, and now…” Lela shrugged. “It’s out of my hands now. Mom prefers it this way, but…”
“It’s possible you aren’t a match,” Shauna said.
“And if I am, I’ll never forgive myself,” she said grimly.
“You could ask—“
“Like I said. Mom wouldn’t take my bone marrow even if no one else in the world matches her. She wants me here or wherever else I’m needed.”
Shauna gripped her friend’s shoulder, and the two took their places in the ranks in the courtyard.
Another Captain rattled off a few names as did another before Captain Jones was left with the crew he’d summoned yesterday.
“Listen up,” Captain Jones said. “We’re shipping out as soon as you’re briefed.”
“What’s the mission?” Alejandro asked.
“If you would stop running your mouth, I would’ve already told you.” Captain Jones stared right at Shauna.
Her stomach twisted in knots. She wasn’t worried or anxious for herself. Her fear lay with her fiancé. So long as he was all right, she could handle anything. Once they were married, they would be deployed together if they both stayed in the military. They hadn’t discussed that detail yet, although they were both on board with having kids. Just not yet. She was twenty-six. She’d managed to get her engineer degree in three years instead of four. As soon as she turned twenty, she’d signed up to be a recruit for the green berets. Shauna wanted to give the Green Berets at least a decade of her time. Maybe a little longer. Thirty-two, thirty-three. Maybe then she’d be willing to hang it up. She could then stay home until the kids went to school. After that, she’d work in the private sector. Maybe as an engineer or a teacher or law enforcement.
Or would her future husband want to leave the military? They'd both grown up in Philly, although they hadn’t met until they’d joined the military. Right from the start, she knew there was something about him. That was why she ribbed him constantly, hounding him, teasing him. Their easy-going banter morphed into flirting. Still, she hadn’t believed it when he told her a week later that he was going to propose to her one day. She’d laughed it off. Sure, military romances tended to be quick, but she wasn’t like that. She wasn’t in a rush. Schooling, yeah, that she didn’t mind working her tail off in order to get done early. Dating, though, was another story.
She hadn’t bothered to date in high school since she figured it was pointless. Those relationships hardly ever lasted for the long haul. During college, she’d been too busy studying and reading and engineering to do anything else.
If he’d been hurt by her laughing, he hadn’t shown it. Two years passed, and he still hadn’t proposed. It got to the point that she was ready to do it herself. That next time they went out on a date, he had been down on one knee when she opened the d
oor. Somehow, he had known she was ready. They had a special bond. They just clicked.
“We’re going to Grotto’s Bay like we all knew we would.” The Captain hesitated. “Our mission is CSAR.”
Shauna felt as if her heart stopped beating. She sucked in a breath, but kept her face an indifferent mask. What were the chances that her fiancé was the one who needed to be rescued? He was fine. He was a Marine.
They are all Marines over there.
“Several Marines…” Jones said.
Her furious pounding heart made the blood rush in her ears, and she couldn’t hear what he said next. When the others rushed away to grab their gear, she went through the motions and did the same. That Lela kept giving her sympathetic looks didn’t help any.
Lela didn’t need to hear it from the Captain or anyone else. She already knew.
Her fiancé was one of the ones who needed to be rescued.
She had been on CSAR missions before. All of them had been a success. There was no reason for her to be worried or afraid that this one would be any different. The target shouldn’t matter. All civilians or soldiers who needed to be rescued would be. That was the mission. She could handle herself.
Her fiancé would one day soon become her husband, or so she hoped.
Chapter 5
All of a sudden, things changed for Nathaniel, and that terrified him more than the pain. Although he was beginning to be numb from all of the aches and pain. For whatever reason, they had only broken his one arm. Even more perplexing was that they only burned and scarred him on the back. Not where it would be visible to others.
Eventually, a strange man entered the room. He could not be certain if it was day or night since he had no way to know what time it was. He had no idea what day it was. The light was bright and harsh, so Nathaniel kept his eyes closed, although he spied a flash of a white coat.
The man murmured something in a strange language, and Nathaniel was hoisted up by two others. The thugs brought him out of the cell, dragged him down a long, narrow hallway that was lined with other cells. Were those shadows within them? Other prisoners? But he hadn’t heard any screams. Then again, he hadn’t been listening for screams either. As much as he could, he focused on happy memories with his love to blot out the hurt, the fear, the utter hopelessness.
Up the stairs, the thugs lifted Nathaniel. He didn’t even bother to stand and try to climb the steps. Long gone was his desire to keep his body in shape. He barely had the strength to lift his head.
Down another hallway, this one well lit. Nathaniel blinked, trying to adjust his eyes, and soon found himself in what looked like a small cafeteria. The thugs plopped him at a table, walked away, and returned with a gray substance in a bowl and a chipped mug.
Nathaniel drank greedily, gulping down the contents, spilling some out of the corners of his mouth. The glop didn’t taste much better than it looked, but he would eat anything at this point.
The two thugs parted to reveal the man in the white coat. His crazy hair matched his coat and fuzzy eyebrows. His glasses looked more like goggles that made his blue eyes appear huge and bug-like. He rubbed his hands eagerly the moment Nathaniel swallowed the last morsels.
“Bring him,” the man said, his English awkward.
How perplexing. Kronston Taer spoke with near perfect English.
The two thugs seized Nathaniel’s shoulders, lifted him from the bench, and dragged him away. They exited a different door, climbed more stairs, and took so many twists and turns that Nathaniel was hopelessly lost. Then, they descended three flights of stairs before coming to large steel doors.
The man in the white coat bustled forward and plugged a code into a numerical pad. The doors opened with a flourish, and the man waddled inside. Nathaniel was rushed in and laid down on a cold metal table that was more a slab. It was all he could do not to scream because those bastards put him down on his wounded back.
“Remove…” The man waved his hand.
One of the thugs ripped off Nathaniel’s boxers.
“Hm.” The man examined Nathaniel, poking and prodding his wounds. After a few moments, he began to wash them, humming to himself.
Suddenly, he stopped, glanced up, and barked at the thugs. The two of them rushed out of there as if the man had threatened them. Perhaps he had.
“Nathaniel, worry not. You in good hands.” As if to prove it, the man held them up for Nathaniel to look at. “I known as Sengo Despar. Some call me Doctor Despair. I not understand that. I not Despair. I am…”
“Talking too much,” Nathaniel muttered, but it was the first time he tried to speak in days. His words were hardly audible even to his ears.
“No matter. Shall we get started? Yes. Can you roll… Ah.”
With strength that belied his size and age, the doctor forced Nathaniel onto his stomach. Doctor Despair mumbled to himself as he worked to wash and scrub the wounds. The pain threatened to overwhelm Nathaniel, and finally, he passed out into a black sea of worry and fear.
>>><<<
Nathaniel opened and closed his eyes, and sometimes, no time had passed. Others, it clearly had. The doctor was always there. Occasionally, Kronston Taer was as well. They spoke in that strange language that Nathaniel couldn’t understand, not that he tried.
It took Nathaniel a few bouts of regained consciousness for him to recognize that he was in a different room. He was in a chair. Strapped down. At least he hoped he was tied down because he couldn’t move his arms or legs. He could wiggle his toes and move his fingers at least. Ever so slightly, he could move his head left or right, just an inch to each side.
The room was well lit. The doctor, who Nathaniel wondered if might be more of a scientist than a medical physician, had his back to Nathaniel. He was hovering over a clothed table. The room smelled strange. Like lemon. Strong. Antiseptic.
In the crook of Nathaniel’s arm was a huge needle. Nutrients? Hydration?
He cleared his throat. Man, did that hurt like a thousand bee stings.
Wait. He was sitting. His back was against the seat.
His back didn’t hurt. He couldn’t move his arms or legs. He couldn’t feel them. His back and his limbs were all numb.
“Wha…” Nathaniel tried to say.
Doctor Despair whirred around. “Awake. Good. How feel? Sorry. How do you feel?”
Panic and anxiety made Nathaniel’s throat close. He couldn’t remember ever being this frightened before. Had they broken his back after all? Was he paralyzed?
“What is it? Can you no talk? Not. Not talk. English is so difficult.”
Nathaniel blinked a few times. “Wha…”
“Wha? What? Why am I doing? Do not worry. Have no fear. Doctor Despair is here.” The doctor’s smile frightened Nathaniel all the more. It was a chilling sight.
“Doctor…”
“Yes, yes. The name has… How do you say? Grown on me.” The doctor’s grin grows even wider, stretching across his round face.
“Can’t…”
“Can’t what? Can’t think? Can’t talk clearly. Can’t move? Is that it?”
Nathaniel couldn’t even nod.
“You are sedated,” Doctor Despair explained. “Your arm, do you feel any pain?”
Nathaniel whispered, “No. Nothing.”
“Better nothing than pain, right? See? No despair!”
“No cast?” The more Nathaniel spoke, the less the fog affected his brain.
“No cast. Medicine can be like faith. It can be like magic.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “How long…”
“How long have you been with us? Actually, I am not certain, but maybe two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Nathaniel gaped at him. How was this possible? His arm was completely straight, even if he was numbed, could a broken arm be held like that?
“You had a nice, clean break.” The doctor made a swift, chopping motion with his hand. “Easy fix.”
“Screws?” Nathaniel asked. He felt so confused. Why coul
dn’t he think clearly?
“No screws. I fixed it. Break. Now no break.”
“Okay,” Nathaniel said.
Doctor Despair eyed him critically as if waiting for something. Like what?
“Have you no manners?” the doctor grumbled.
Nathaniel wanted to laugh but rejected that as out of hand. “You want me to show gratitude and appreciation for you healing my arm after your buddies broke it in the first place?”
“I also healed your burns too. Some of the knife marks were too deep, but I did what I can to restore your skin.”
A terrible thought crossed Nathaniel’s mind. Did Doctor Despair heal him so that they could break him all over again?
“You have shown, how do you say? Resilient. Tenacity. Determination. Kronston Taer has seen much in you, and I must agree. You are special.”
Nathaniel tried to shake his head. “No. Let me…”
“Let you go? I’m afraid that isn’t possible. No? Let you…”
“Die,” Nathaniel croaked.
Doctor Despair chuckled. “Oh, no. That is entirely implausible. That cannot and will not happen. Do not worry. It is time for you to nap nap.”
“No,” Nathaniel started to say.
Too late. The doctor injected something into the bag that was feeding into the needle. Fear and worry seized Nathaniel as his eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted away.
>>><<<
Nathaniel struggled to maintain a level of awareness. Shouldn't he be worried? Or afraid? He felt numb and indifferent. He hardly felt like himself.
The only person Nathaniel now saw was the doctor. At all times, Nathaniel had at least one IV going, but the doctor now fed Nathaniel. The food hardly looked edible, but it did not taste bad. Nathaniel would have inhaled the food if he could, but the doctor fed him slowly.
Not on Her Watch Page 3
