Fox watched in something close to horror as the short man shocked Cub. He seemed to take a sadistic glee in it. Cub, for his part, was crying out desperately. Fox slowly counted the seconds that the man shocked Cub.
When he got to forty, he thought it was going too far. Cub stopped yelling around ten. Fox wasn't even sure if he was breathing.
Fox grabbed the short man's arm and pulled him into the cell, away from Cub. "That's enough," he stated solemnly. The soldier turned to face him.
"You care about the child," the short man stated, incredulously.
That was a bad mistake. The RTI lecturer had warned against displaying compassion for companions. Cruel torturers might force you to watch them scream.
"I don't, but you could stop his heart if you shock him for too long." It was a bluff. Fox had no idea if a stun gun could actually do that.
The short man sneered evilly at him. He must really hate the SAS. Fox swallowed. The short man was the one who doused him with icy water and socked him in the gut. Now he grinned maniacally at Fox, as a cat would a mouse.
"Well, well. Why don't you join the party?" the man asked snidely. "I'm sure there's room enough."
He nodded at the man holding Cub. He dropped him. Then the short man turned to Fox again. "You carry him. Let's go."
The short man grabbed Wolf's arm and dragged him out. Wolf didn't resist. They stepped over Cub.
Fox knelt down by the boy. The others - Wolf and the four Green Jackets - were waiting for him. He gently rolled Cub onto his back and picked him up. As the others faced forward, he checked Cub's pulse. It was steady, but too fast and a touch weaker than Fox would have liked. The boy himself, however, was trembling.
"You awake, Cub?" he asked. He got a hum in reply. Fox cursed quietly. If Cub was unconscious, he'd miss out on whatever creative plans the Green Jackets had.
Fox looked up at the sky, suddenly very appreciative of its open expanses. Free, twinkling, merry...
Painless...
He pulled his head out of the clouds and stepped into the room where he'd been drenched and beaten. He never wanted to return to it.
The stun-gun-happy short man sneered at him hatefully. He yanked Cub from his arms, then trotted over to the tub - filled with water and ice, Fox noted - and dropped him into it. As expected, Cub startled and sat up partway, but he seemed too out-of-it to actually get out of the tub.
"Tie them down," the short man ordered. The thickest man dragged Fox over to a chair and tied his wrists and ankles. One of the men seemed to hold something against Wolf; he twisted Wolf's arm as he sat him down and bound him. Wolf exhaled roughly but didn't comment.
The short man smiled his widest yet. "Let give Cub a bath." He reached over and turned the boy over. Then he pushed him under the water.
"I'll let him breathe if you say your names," he teased. Cub, for his part, flailed about wildly. It was obvious that he was still disoriented. He was splashing water at the short man, but the drier of the two didn't seem to care at all.
Fox glanced at Wolf. Wolf was staring expressionlessly over the interrogator's head. Fox schooled his features to match Wolf's.
Cub looked so helpless, like a small rodent trapped by the tail. Fox continued to stare over the short man's head. He glanced once more at Wolf, only to see that he'd closed his eyes. The man drowning Cub watched both of them with glee, while his companions stood around him, watching, but out of splash zone.
Then Cub stopped moving.
Fox started counting again, but he very carefully didn't change his expression. He couldn't show weakness.
This was an exercise. They couldn't drown Cub. They were safe from death.
Cub had attacked the short man, who was now getting revenge. And he didn't seem to be releasing him anytime soon.
Then he remembered Eagle's words. "Accidents happen."
"My name is..." Fox began. He wasn't sure this was what he wanted. Wolf's eyes snapped open and he fired a death glare at Fox. But Fox had been counting. It'd been a full minute and a half since Cub had been dunked - that left him at most three minutes before he would stop breathing forever.
Wolf interrupted. "RTI, Fox. Shut up."
"He's drowning him, Wolf!"
"What's your name, Foxy boy?" the short man sneered. "You seem to understand what's going on."
Fox swallowed. "My name is Jonathan Charlton," he muttered nearly inaudibly, defeated to his very core. He couldn't watch a child drown. But he couldn't tell them his real name, either.
The short man laughed. "I can't he-e-e-ear you!" he sang mockingly.
"My - name - is - Jonathan - Charlton !" Fox shouted clearly.
Finally - finally - the short man pulled the boy out of the ice water. Still, Cub didn't move. Uncaringly, the malicious soul threw Cub over his shoulder and stood.
"Let's return them to their cell and let Sarge deal with them." His voice's tone showed he knew he had won. Smug. He'd gotten Fox's name.
"Wait," the fourth man said calmly. He hadn't taken any action against any of them yet. He hadn't ordered any of the others around. But now Fox somehow knew this man was in charge. "I think he's lying."
Fox stared at him incredulously. "I'm not."
The fourth man got in Fox's face. Inhaling slightly, Fox surmised that this man had forgotten to brush his teeth last night. "Oh really?" he asked. "Let's have you say that one more time. What's your name?"
"My name is Jonathan Charlton." He was defiant. He could see Wolf staring at him in shock. Of course, Wolf hated the kid. But Fox wouldn't watch him drown.
"Jonathan Charlton ," the leader repeated. "Jonathan Charlton ... Do you really want us to drown the brat?"
Fox swallowed. "My name is Jonathan Charlton ."
"I don't think so," the leader whispered cruelly.
Fox pressed his eyes shut. Cub might have only a minute left. He had to do something. His lie had failed. So for one moment, Fox pretended he really was named Brandon Danielson, that he never had heard of a "Benjamin Daniels": his real name. The names were so close, it was easy for Fox to alter his mentality for a moment. "Brandon Danielson," he murmured. "Brandon Danielson."
"Then, Brandon, let's see those pretty eyes of yours."
Fox glared at him. "My name is Brandon Danielson."
The man showed his emotions for the first time that night. He grinned. "We got you."
They didn't need orders after that. The three henchmen dragged the men still tied to their chairs back to the cell - or in Cub's case, carried. They were pushed inside - Cub, thrown - and locked in.
Wolf immediately turned to Fox. "Fox, you lousy fucking bast-"
"Snake, check on Cub," Fox interrupted, deadly serious. Snake's head snapped up in surprise. He had bowed it when Wolf started; Wolf getting angry at Fox could only mean one thing: Fox had blabbed. But now Fox was calling the shots.
Snake dropped to Cub's side and pushed him onto his back. He immediately noticed the blue lips and extremely pale complexion. Even Wolf had stopped berating Fox for a minute, watching him. Eagle stood and moved to untie the sitting pair.
Snake leaned over Cub's mouth, listening, looking, and feeling for breath. His eyes widened.
Nothing.
As he felt for a pulse, Snake began giving breaths to the boy, pressing his lips firmly against Cub's. Something Wolf wouldn't do before.
There. A heartbeat. And another. But spaced too far apart. The next was off-beat. Snake needed Cub to breathe. A third breath...
"Snake?" Wolf asked uncertainly. Eagle tugged at the binding knots, and at last they fell away. Wolf moved to crouch on the opposite side of Cub, who lay still as a corpse. Fox knelt by his head; Eagle, his feet. "He's not-"
Suddenly, Cub began coughing and shivering. Snake jerked back and spat out the water Cub had pushed into his mouth. Fox took over quickly, rolling Cub onto his side to avoid him choking further with Eagle's help. Very gently, Fox held Cub's head tilted back. More gently still, Fox spoke complete nonsense to Cub - something about their bunks and food, families and unit-mates - in a calm, assured voice, but Cub didn't stir besides shaking.
Snake turned back to Cub and watched as Cub coughed and coughed, choking on water. "Wolf," he hissed like his namesake, "call for help. He needs medical attention."
Wolf obeyed without question, despite being the leader. He'd already misjudged the situation. "Help!" he cried to the door, pounding it as if it was the short interrogator. "Get help!" His deep voice was frantic.
Snake silenced Fox and started asking questions. Cub was stirring, at last.
The first thing Alex was immediately aware of was the pain in his throat and his coughing that he just couldn't stop and the seemingly endless torrents of water leaving his respiratory system. Then the hands holding his head and another holding his side. Eventually, he registered how cold he felt while shivering uncontrollably.
Finally, he heard a Scottish voice by his ear, while a strangely accented one shouted in the distance.
"Cub? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"
Alex opened his eyes and looked into Snake's blue ones, his wet coughs subsiding into damp wheezing. The ground was right next to him, but Alex knew that he wouldn't have known he was lying down without seeing it: he still couldn't tell which way was up. Suddenly, it was moving out of sight, and Alex was looking up at Snake.
For his part, Snake looked intently into his eyes and spoke to someone behind him. "His pupils are dilated. He's hypothermic, probably entering shock." Then he looked seriously back at Alex. "Can you tell me where we are?"
Alex nodded. "Hell," he squeaked.
But his voice was so thick and wheezy that Fox misunderstood. "He thinks we're on a hill."
Snake frowned, looking into Alex's eyes again. "That means he's-"
"No, Hell," he wheezed again.
Snake brightened and smirked, but it was overshadowed by worry. "And what is the formal name for this Hell?"
"Beacon Brecons."
"For what?"
"SAS Training."
"Who am I?"
"A curious arse." Snake stared patronizingly at him, and Alex relented. "Snake."
Snake grinned. "He'll be all right. We need to keep him warm, though - out of shock. Eagle and I are the warmest. We don't know when Wolf will be heard." Eagle nodded and lay on the ground. Fox and Snaked carefully lifted Alex up and Eagle scooted underneath.
The warmth was immediate, like a fire underneath, yet Alex felt very awkward as he continued shivering while lying on top of Eagle. It was like he was some kind of rock band instrument: always vibrating. Eagle's He felt warm hands - Eagle's - slide into his armpits despite his protests. "H-hey!"
"Cub," Eagle murmured into his ear, "calm down."
Alex was about to respond, but it turned into a yelp when Snake put his hands down there. Alex also saw that he'd taken his shirt off. For a moment, Alex was horrified.
The dry, warm shirt reappeared in Fox's hands, which were holding it firmly around Alex's head and neck. But it wasn't enough distraction to keep Alex from resisting Snake.
"Get - your - bloody hands off me!" he tried to shout while pulling at the soldier's hands. Eagle and Fox held him in a supine position, allowing no escape. Alex couldn't feel his legs or move them very well, either. His words came out breathy and weak, but it successfully conveyed his fury and humiliation.
Snake very calmly replied, "For hypothermia, especially a moderate case like yours, it's important to insulate the head and neck and warm the armpits and groin."
Even so, Alex struggled adamantly until he was exhausted. It only took a moment. Panting, he was oddly grateful for his condition. He couldn't blush properly. Tired, he let his head fall back onto Eagle's chest; he was short enough that when his and Eagle's feet aligned, he could do that. But he still clung to Snake's wrists.
"Fox, his pulse and breathing," Snake muttered. Dutifully, Fox took it. Alex felt the cloth on his neck shift, and then a lukewarm hand probed his neck.
"Fast, but fairly steady and strong." He leaned over Alex's face. Alex closed his eyes. "Breath is fast and uneven, but deep enough."
"Pupils?" Snake inquired.
Alex tried unsuccessfully to turn his head and keep his eyes shut petulantly. He didn't really want to be there. Fox had his hands on either side of Alex's face, and he used his forefinger and thumb to pry open one of Alex's eyes. Above him, Alex could see Fox's blurry face, staring intently into his eyes.
"Still dilated."
"Check again in a minute."
Since he'd awoken, Alex had felt dazed, and he had been concentrating on what the others were doing. But Fox, Eagle, and Snake started only checking him over every so often, and he could really feel all the injuries he'd accumulated that night. The shot of adrenaline he'd felt upon waking was fading quickly. And he still hadn't slept very well that night. Despite Wolf's shouting in the background, he found himself wanting to drop off to sleep.
Fox noticed his exhaustion first. "Cub, talk to me. You need to stay awake."
Alex ignored him. He really didn't care right now. The shivering didn't feel as jarring anymore, even though it hadn't changed intensity at all. Plus, he was in a relatively comfortable position - reclined and surrounded by warmth, no matter how embarrassing.
However, Alex couldn't ignore the light tap on his cheek. The offending hand had stoked up a new fire there from the embers left by the interrogator's fists.
"Mngh!" He tried to move away, but he couldn't fight the much stronger men's grips. He fidgeted instead.
"Talk to me. What's your favorite exercise? What do you think of the sarge?"
Alex glared at Fox, not caring in the slightest what the older man thought. "Shut up. 'M tired."
"You know that sleeping is dangerous."
Alex opened his mouth to retort, but he had to concede the fact.
It was true. Alex had attended a winter survival lecture with the rest of K-Unit. Hypothermia had been one of the major topics - causes, symptoms, first aid, long term effects, and the rest of it. Of course, Ian had already taught him the basics, and all of the soldiers had experience with first aid. They'd dutifully stared down the lecturer with no questions, Alex included. Still, that didn't mean Alex wanted to stay awake now that he was hypothermic.
"L-" Alex paused while Fox checked his pulse and breathing again. It was rather frustrating, but Alex was in no position to argue. "Lectures."
"Why?"
"Easiest."
Fox didn't respond for a moment, checking Alex's pupils for the millionth time. He reported that they were still dilated before asking, "You don't like training?"
"No. Don' wanna be here."
Fox glanced away from Alex towards Snake. Alex couldn't read his expression, but it looked uncertain with a mix of - of - something. Had Alex revealed too much? He wasn't really watching his tongue at the moment. A fog had made its way into the crevices of his mind, making thought difficult. Still, Alex could respond through the haze.
By the time Fox looked back at Alex, he'd schooled his features into an unreadable expression. "How do you feel?"
Alex sighed. "Cold. Tired," he answered honestly.
Snake, ever the medic, inquired, "Do you feel any pain?"
"Cheeks. Stomach. Wrists. Talking." His throat burned uncomfortably.
"Can you say a complete sentence?" Eagle murmured sarcastically into Alex's ear.
"I hate you."
Fox smirked as he leaned down to listen to Alex's breaths. "So..." he continued, pausing while he thought of a topic, "what do you think of the sergeant?"
"Arse. You?" Alex's tactics changed; if he made them talk, he didn't have to.
Fox smiled a bit. "He's like that sometimes, but he means well."
Snake chimed in on this topic. "Yeah, if by 'means well' you're saying he's good at being mean. Bastard," he muttered.
It was understandable that the three soldiers treating Alex were distracted, and that Alex was in no condition to be observant. Still, it was surprising that not one of them noticed that Wolf had stopped shouting or that a night breeze had swept into the room.
"And that 'well-meaning bastard' is now standing behind you." Predictably, Snake whipped around, stark white. Alex was quite happy that his hands left him, no matter how warm they were.
"S-sir! I didn't-"
"Shut up. What the hell is going on?"
Fox explained. "The Green Jackets thought it'd be more effective if they made us watch them torture a kid. They started by shocking him for at least thirty seconds behind the ear. His balance is probably shot right now. Then they..."
As he explained, Alex could feel himself drifting off, as if he were a grain of sand in a dark, soothing ocean. After a moment, above the surface of the syrupy water, he was vaguely aware of shouting, but a tsunami seemed to have submerged him completely. Even a sharp pain in his cheek was unable to pull him from the current.
Alex sank into the deep darkness.
AN: That was Japanese, last time. It said, "There are hints." The hints were that Fox was one of the main characters, "Fox had curled up like Alex," and "His hands were cold." (Kudos to speechbubble, who nailed every single one!)
Some reviewers asked where one could read the real Resistance to Interrogation. I found a link to it on another user's profile: Sarruby (FF .net/u/1918804/). She's got links to other short stories by Horowitz, too.
I hope you'll stick around for the rest. I'm happy to report that I've finished editing everything.
Drop your opinion off at the Reviews bus stop, and it will reach the right destination.