09-12-2019, 06:56 AM
Unknown Location, Bjeorg
July 31st, 1991, Early Morning
The fist pounded down on the assassin's shattered hand, further damaging the cracked and broken bones.
The assassin had been captured nearly a full 24 hours prior but had not spoken a word since her capture. Already she had faced unspeakably cruel forms of torture. ANM was a rogue nation that was accountable to no one. They could do whatever they wanted to her and no one could stop them. However, she was a well trained agent. They would have to do a much better job if they wanted to break her.
At present, she was having her hand smashed by a hammer. This stuff was easy to resist. The assassin had literally trained for situations of torture. Besides, by this point she couldn't even feel her right hand. They had probably damaged the nerve or just messed the circulation up very badly.
"Just give up already." she stated blankly. This remark earned her backhand to the face, leaving her face stinging.
"The only person who should give up is you madame." mused one of the assassin's interrogators, a bulky but muscular man who sported a large scar down his face. "We asked you one question: Who are you working for? Tell us and your pain will cease."
The plan that the assassin had formulated did involve spilling her allegiance. She was just going to lie about to whom her allegiance was owed. Then she might be free of the pain. Until that time came, she had to let her interrogators suspect nothing. She was going to have to let herself be tortured.
"I dare you" she mumbled, attempting to get the interrogator all riled up. It worked, the bulky man grabbed her by the neck and slammed her head into the cinderblock wall behind the chair she was duct taped into. She fell forward, head spinning, and looked groggily around. The incandescent light above her head was now every color of the rainbow save for white. She was most assuredly concussed. Silently, the assassin cursed her own stupidity, now escape would be even more difficult when she got the opportunity.
A new wave of pain came on as she was hit hard in the stomach. The assassin doubled over in pain at this. So desperately did she want to just spill her true allegiance and get the pain over with but she knew she couldn't. She had to wait for the right moment to give in. More pain would have to be endured if the assassin was to escape. She had to be in a certain mindset to pull this off convincingly and she would have to be in a certain physical state for her captors to buy it.
The bulky man stepped back and asked his associate to exit the room. The partner left the room quickly.
"I am afraid there will be no one to hear you scream." the bulky man exclaimed as he lifted her head out of its resting place so that the two were face to face. The man grabbed the assassin by the arm and smiled nastily. He slowly began to twist her arm, braking it easily. The assassin's left arm sat limp in her lap.
The assassin had hardly ever felt so much pain in her life. Sweat was dribbling down her brown in huge globs as she struggled to inspect the damage. It was quite severe. Her arm was bent horribly out of shape. This did not bode well for the assassin's plan.
"Would you like a matching set of those arms or would you like to answer my question?" the interrogator asked once more. He was met with silent whimpers of pain and he smiled. The interrogator cracked his knuckles and pulled a corkscrew out of his shirt pocket. The message was crystal clear: he would brake her eventually.
The assassin began to whimper violently and cried out in agony as her other arm was twisted violently. "I'll tell you!" she screamed. "I was contracted by Mr. Brian Smith. I was to kill "Mark", the head of ANM until... well... until I completed my task."
This response elicited a cruel smirk out of the interrogator, who immediately released his firm grip on the woman's arm. "I knew you would come around. That was a nice talk. I'll let you get a little sleep before we have another chat." The interrogator left the room in silence after delivering this foreboding line.
While the interrogator talked things over with his superiors, the assassin would have a chance to figure out and exit strategy once all hell broke loose between ANM and Smith's people. At the time though, all the assassin wanted to think about was healing up. She would need her strength if she was to escape.
July 31st, 1991, Early Morning
The fist pounded down on the assassin's shattered hand, further damaging the cracked and broken bones.
The assassin had been captured nearly a full 24 hours prior but had not spoken a word since her capture. Already she had faced unspeakably cruel forms of torture. ANM was a rogue nation that was accountable to no one. They could do whatever they wanted to her and no one could stop them. However, she was a well trained agent. They would have to do a much better job if they wanted to break her.
At present, she was having her hand smashed by a hammer. This stuff was easy to resist. The assassin had literally trained for situations of torture. Besides, by this point she couldn't even feel her right hand. They had probably damaged the nerve or just messed the circulation up very badly.
"Just give up already." she stated blankly. This remark earned her backhand to the face, leaving her face stinging.
"The only person who should give up is you madame." mused one of the assassin's interrogators, a bulky but muscular man who sported a large scar down his face. "We asked you one question: Who are you working for? Tell us and your pain will cease."
The plan that the assassin had formulated did involve spilling her allegiance. She was just going to lie about to whom her allegiance was owed. Then she might be free of the pain. Until that time came, she had to let her interrogators suspect nothing. She was going to have to let herself be tortured.
"I dare you" she mumbled, attempting to get the interrogator all riled up. It worked, the bulky man grabbed her by the neck and slammed her head into the cinderblock wall behind the chair she was duct taped into. She fell forward, head spinning, and looked groggily around. The incandescent light above her head was now every color of the rainbow save for white. She was most assuredly concussed. Silently, the assassin cursed her own stupidity, now escape would be even more difficult when she got the opportunity.
A new wave of pain came on as she was hit hard in the stomach. The assassin doubled over in pain at this. So desperately did she want to just spill her true allegiance and get the pain over with but she knew she couldn't. She had to wait for the right moment to give in. More pain would have to be endured if the assassin was to escape. She had to be in a certain mindset to pull this off convincingly and she would have to be in a certain physical state for her captors to buy it.
The bulky man stepped back and asked his associate to exit the room. The partner left the room quickly.
"I am afraid there will be no one to hear you scream." the bulky man exclaimed as he lifted her head out of its resting place so that the two were face to face. The man grabbed the assassin by the arm and smiled nastily. He slowly began to twist her arm, braking it easily. The assassin's left arm sat limp in her lap.
The assassin had hardly ever felt so much pain in her life. Sweat was dribbling down her brown in huge globs as she struggled to inspect the damage. It was quite severe. Her arm was bent horribly out of shape. This did not bode well for the assassin's plan.
"Would you like a matching set of those arms or would you like to answer my question?" the interrogator asked once more. He was met with silent whimpers of pain and he smiled. The interrogator cracked his knuckles and pulled a corkscrew out of his shirt pocket. The message was crystal clear: he would brake her eventually.
The assassin began to whimper violently and cried out in agony as her other arm was twisted violently. "I'll tell you!" she screamed. "I was contracted by Mr. Brian Smith. I was to kill "Mark", the head of ANM until... well... until I completed my task."
This response elicited a cruel smirk out of the interrogator, who immediately released his firm grip on the woman's arm. "I knew you would come around. That was a nice talk. I'll let you get a little sleep before we have another chat." The interrogator left the room in silence after delivering this foreboding line.
While the interrogator talked things over with his superiors, the assassin would have a chance to figure out and exit strategy once all hell broke loose between ANM and Smith's people. At the time though, all the assassin wanted to think about was healing up. She would need her strength if she was to escape.