Small Cell, So Much Fun & Kill Everyone
One Week After Capture – Terrorist Compound
Sam lay curled in a corner of the small cell. It was barely large enough to stretch out his legs. Which he couldn't do even if he wanted to because both his legs were shackled to the wall with a short chain. His stomach had ceased growling and just ached with the emptiness. Every muscle ached and one eye was swollen shut. His lips were so parched and he craved water.
He had found a small sharp rock and managed to make little scratches in the wall. It had been seven days since he arrive here. He had no clue how long it took to bring him here. Sam had woken in the dark of night to find himself shackled to the wall completely stripped naked.
At least at the time he thought it was night because it was so dark. It turned out he was right when the light of morning came through a very tiny slit near the ceiling of the room. It had only a sliver of light but enough for Sam to see the size of the room.
Seven days of endless beatings. By the second day he realized the only water he would be getting was when they drug him to the other room and water boarded him. Two days ago they had dropped some slop they said was food onto the dirt floor. It was the first and so far only thing given him to eat. It was disgusting but he ate it. He had to if he wanted to survive.
The unit would be coming to rescue him. Matt would come to rescue him. He had to stay alive. Even if it meant consuming something not fit enough even for a dung beetle.
SERE training had been severe and was supposed to prepare him to deal with being captured. Part of that training had helped but it was a joke when compared to actual torture. The part that helped was finding a happy place. Making his mind go someplace else as the hits continued to land on him.
But late at night as he lay curled up and freezing it was hard to get his mind to go there. In the dark of night the reality of his situation came home to roost. It's when he cried silently and begged for the guys to save him. It's when every ache and pain flared up and he wished Patch was here to shoot him up with any narcotic pain meds. It's when he could care less if the meds made him loopy.
He just wanted relief from the ever present pain. Embarrassment at being loopy be damned. Hell, embarrassment had gone out the window the first day when they dragged him out of his little cell and made him stand stark naked in front of fifty or more men.
Sam understood every word they said but never let on that he did. He had been repulsed and scared shitless when he heard them saying what they wanted to do to him. It had been hard to pretend he didn't hear what they said. SERE had prepared him for the possibility of rape but never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be captured and threatened with that. So far no one had acted on it.
The only thing he repeated was his name, rank and service number. God how he hated the sound of Master Corporal Samuel Braddock now. But it was strange that they were not asking him questions about units and locations and targets.
Sam shifted on the ground and curled tighter unable to get warm. The days were so hot but the nights were freezing. Sam knew he needed rest in the worst way and tried to force himself to relax. Nothing was working.
The Sam took a page from Matt. He began to hear songs in his head. Sam finally drifted into an uneasy sleep hearing 'Enter Sandman' by Metallica*.
Say your prayers little one
Don't forget my son
To include everyone
Tuck you in warm within
Keep you free from sin
Till the Sandman he comes
Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow tight
Exit: light
Enter: night
Take my hand
We're off to never never land
Something's wrong, shut the light
Heavy thoughts tonight
And they aren't of Snow White
Dreams of war, dreams of liars
Dreams of dragon's fire
And of things that will bite
Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow tight
Exit: light
Enter: night
Take my hand
We're off to never never land
Now I lay me down to sleep
Pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I die before I wake
Pray the Lord my soul to take
Hush little baby don't say a word
And never mind that noise you heard
It's just the beasts under your bed
In your closet, in your head
Exit: light
Enter: night
Grain of sand
Exit: light
Enter: night
Take my hand
We're off to never never land
Two Weeks After Capture – Remote Special Forces Base
Major Plouffe was alone in the command tent. He was preparing a special package for the General. He would send it with Murphy when their unit went back to Canada for a short leave and to train with their new sniper for four weeks before returning here. Plouffe needed to get Gleason's unit away before too many questions were asked of them.
Murphy in turn would mail it to the General. Normally he had a way of slipping it undetected into the General's mail in Kandahar via Merrill but the General was in Ottawa right now and not expected back for five more weeks. Plouffe could not wait that long to taunt him.
Plouffe took out his red marker and looked at the picture. Hmmm what to write this time he wondered. Fly Sammy fly had been so good when Braddock nearly died going off that cliff. What to write about his toy soldier now? He turned and knocked his water bottle off the table. It fell to the ground. It came to him as the water dribbled into the dirt floor.
With a gleeful smile he wrote 'toy soldier fallen' across little Braddock's chest. He capped the pen and put the picture in an ordinary plain manila envelope and sealed it. Then he put it in an official looking envelope to hand to Murphy.
Plouffe removed his gloves and thought this was so much fun taunting the General. General Badass was paying tenfold for all the slights he had given him over the years. It was gonna be a bit boring now that the toy soldier was dead and gone. He would have to find another way to hurt the General.
But it had been so much fun ever since his toy soldier joined Special Forces. He had lucked out with finding out how to taunt the General without the General having a clue with what he was really doing to his toy soldier.
It was the third time that he sent Braddock out with another unit that he discovered the HL and HB codes; How Long and How Bad.
The first time Plouffe sent Braddock out it had been bad. It's when he found out Murphy had a grudge against Braddock. His toy soldier came back all bruised with a split lip because Murphy beat the shit out of him. That had been fortuitous and he had used Murphy several times since then. The man was easy to manipulate.
His toy soldier looked even worse the second time. Like something the cat dragged in he was so dead tired after fourteen days straight with that unit. The blank look in Braddock's eyes spoke a lot to how killing affected him. His toy soldier had made fourteen kills that mission.
The third time had nearly killed Braddock when Plouffe sent him with Parsons' unit. Blaze and Matt had found Braddock outside the tent unable to speak because he was so parched and beat up. Plouffe had been near their tent when the unit was trying to get his toy soldier to tell them what he needed and how bad it was.
Plouffe heard Winds and Ripsaw raging about how the General was trying to kill Blondie. He had stepped back into the shadows and listened; riveted by their conversation. It was then that he heard Patch and Blaze discussing a code they could use to do quick assessments. Patch was all about assessments and trained his unit mates to report their injuries succinctly.
That damned man kept his toy soldier alive and healthy. And Matt that ass kept his toy soldier laughing. It pissed him off. But then again it had allowed him to taunt the General for a longer period of time. So it wasn't all bad.
When Blaze suggested two simple questions that only required a number response Plouffe rubbed his hands in glee. It was perfect to taunt the General and the General would have no clue what it meant.
Their little code was How Long and How Bad. When asked how long Braddock would answer with the number of days he was in his perch. How Bad was for how many kills he had to make. Plouffe kept track of exactly how many kills Braddock made. He always chose missions with the probability of very high kill counts for Braddock.
Plouffe often wondered how many kills it would take to destroy Braddock's soul or break him completely. He guessed he would never know now that his toy soldier was surely dead. No one could survive two weeks in the hands of the torturer Rifat Qasim. Qasim had a reputation for being ungodly brutal, both physically and mentally, with his torture methods.
Picking up his water bottle and then the envelope Plouffe headed out of the command tent to find Murphy with a smile on his face.
Three Weeks After Capture – Remote Special Forces Base
Matt laid on his cot his MP3 player blaring 'Kill Everyone' by Hollywood Undead* in his ears. Matt had barely slept. He couldn't. Sam was out there somewhere.
Their mission had taken two weeks. They had been back at base for another week. The unit had been stalled at every turn in their attempt to go out and find Sam themselves.
Matt belted out the words of the song angrily.
You got the motherfucking right to remain violent
Hollow points hiding in my clip
I'll take twenty-five just to watch your life end
I pray, "Father, please forgive me 'fore I sin"
Got these sticks of dynamite and dying to light them
God, don't fail me now
Get thrown and you gon' get carried out
To a hole where I know you won't be found
Just face it, it's almost over now
Don't even try to take this weapon from me
I like you more and more the lesser you breathe
I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone
My, what have I done? Fuck it, let's kill everyone
I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone
My, what have I done? Fuck it, let's kill everyone
Oh no, here comes the riot
Does everything have to resort to violence?
If you think you can hide, go and try it
Now let's let the fucking gun break the silence
Close your eyelids
Another shot and then here come the sirens
I thought I told you to keep fucking quiet
Somebody's dying, so come say goodbye, kids
Don't even try to take this weapon from me
I like you more and more the lesser you breathe
I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone
My, what have I done? Fuck it, let's kill everyone
I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone
My, what have I done? Fuck it, let's kill everyone
Matt sat up and ripped the earbuds out. He grabbed his rifle and stormed out of the tent.
Winds and Mason had been in the tent keeping watch on Matt. They were all very concerned about him. Matt was starting to come unglued. They raced out after him.
Mason took hold of Matt's arm as Winds asked "Where you going Matt?"
Matt looked at the hand holding him still. He wrenched out of it. Matt staggered back at the force he had to use to get Mason to release him. His legs felt rubbery from lack of sleep. The dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes of his level of exhaustion.
He took three more unsteady steps backward away from Mason and Winds before he answered. He raged "I'm going to find Sam. Fuck this waiting. I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna kill whoever took him. I'll kill everyone that took him."
Winds saw Blaze and Patch coming up from behind Matt. Winds cajoled "Matt we feel the same way. But we are under orders to stay here. They have a unit looking for him."
Matt bellowed "It's not enough. We need to be looking for him. He's all alone. Going through who knows what. Alone. Not one word about his location. IT'S BEEN THREE WEEKS AND NOT ONE FUCKING WORD."
Blaze said "I just spoke with Plouffe again. He said he has analysts investigating every possible clue. Watching for back chatter. But says whoever took him is being silent."
Ripsaw headed over with the food he had gone to get for Matt. He wasn't sleeping and neither was he eating. Matt looked as if he had dropped ten pounds in the past few weeks. "Matt come back inside and eat something. Please."
Matt shook his head "Sam needs me to find him."
Patch walked up and put his arm around Matt's shoulder "What Blondie needs is you to be healthy when he returns. He's gonna be found. You need to take care of yourself so you are in shape to take care of him when he needs you."
Matt dropped to his knees. He let his weapon fall to the ground. Matt could not stop the tears he had been holding in for weeks. Huge tears rolled down as he dropped his chin to his chest.
Blaze and Patch crouched down on either side. Blaze put his hand on the back of Matt's neck and squeezed lightly "Come on buddy. Let's get you back to the tent. You need to rest."
As Patch and Blaze lifted him Matt did not resist. They held on to him as they guided him to the tent.
Mason picked up Matt's weapon from the dirt. He swiped at his eyes. Man the dust was making them water he lied to himself. But he knew he felt like the others. They were all thoroughly frustrated at being stopped at every turn and every request to go look for Blondie denied. The General must not give a damn.
One measly unit sent out to look for Blondie right after he was taken. It was a halfhearted effort at best and they only checked the surrounding area from where he was captured before they were recalled to base.
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* Metallica lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. Hollywood Undead lyrics are property and copyright of their owners.