Section 8: Interrogation

Claire cried out. The gag garbled her words incoherently. The force of the blow had turned Chris's head. He winced, but stayed silent. The sound of the strike against his skull still echoed in Claire's head. Neither of them could stop what was happening.

The soldier grabbed Chris's hair and turned his head back towards him, then struck it again. Claire shouted again and pulled against the bonds in her chair. Chris grunted and and spoke.

"Claire, do me a favor. Don't watch."

Immediately, Claire closed her eyes and turned her head. She heard more strikes and Chris groaned after them. She felt a hand in her hair which yanked her head back. Claire squealed. Roth had his hand wrapped in her long brown hair. The stinging pain forced her eyes open.

"I wouldn't insult your host by ignoring the entertainment he's providing you, Miss Redfield. Please watch," he said

Claire reluctantly drew her eyes towards her brothers beating. His face was beginning to turn red where the welts were forming. Suddenly, his leg lashed out and kicked the soldier in the stomach. Unaffected, the soldier punched Chris directly on the nose. His head rocked back and bounced against the pillar. There was a sickening crunch as the bridge of his nose broke. Blood began to seep out of it, draining into and around his mouth. It speckled down his shirt. Dazed, his eyes rolled into his head. He collapsed on the stool, only to have the soldier grab his neck and lift him to his feet. He began to deliver blow after blow to his gut. Chris spit out a mouthful of blood as his diaphragm was assaulted, and he gasped for air.

Claire tried to close her eyes again, but promptly received a twist of her hair. The pain, combined with watching what was happening to Chris started her tears. The flowed down her cheeks and were absorbed into the cloth tied around her mouth.

"Mr. Redfield, I can stop this at any time. All I need from you is confirmation that you will help us," Roth said.

Chris let out a growl. He was trying to cope with the pain. "I told you fuck...you!"

Roth made a gesture with his hand, and the soldier resumed the beating. He was thoroughly enjoying himself as he struck Chris again and again. The red marks on Chris's face were swelling, turning into large bruises. More and more punches hit Chris's already broken nose. It began to take on a mashed appearance as it was broken more and more. He was beginning to lose his spirit. He soon began to cry out as each blow hit him.

The soldier delivered a crushing knee to Chris's ribs. He dropped back down to the stool, and leaned forward, gasping for air. The only thing preventing him from falling face first to the floor were the handcuffs around his wrists. The soldier curb stomped one of his shoes. Chris bolted upright and yelled as his foot was broken. He slumped over again, breathing heavily.

Claire had begun to sob. The gag she wore choked her as gasped. She wished she could do something to help her brother, but she herself was helpless. She pulled violently at the ropes at her arms, succeeding only in rocking the chair and twisting her shoulder. Roth gave her hair a little tug, silently inducing her to settle down.

"Mr. Redfield, I wish you would reconsider your decision. Think about what your sister is going through right now. Surely you don't want her to have to go through this?" Roth drolled. He wasn't excited by the interrogation like the soldier was. On the contrary, he seemed bored.

Chris was in too much pain to respond. One side of his face was almost completely swollen. A cut from his forehead was leaking blood into his eye and joining the torrent from his nose. His eyes were wandering around the room, a sign that he was losing consciousness. The front of his shirt was red with blood. For the first time, the soldier spoke.

"Should I keep going?" Claire's stomach contracted at his eagerness. He made her sick. How could someone be so sadistic?

Roth was the only other person who seemed to be aware of Chris's health. "No that's enough. We don't want him passing out. He doesn't seem to be in a very chatty mood anyway." His grip tightened in Claire's hair, and he pulled her head back so she was forced to look into his eyes. He seemed to be thinking. "Perhaps something could be done to persuade him more effectively..." He smiled at Claire, and her blood turned to ice at the malice in his eyes. "Lieutenant, cut out one of Miss Redfield's lovely blue eyes."

Claire's eyes bulged as she shrieked into her gag.

"Oh God...They can't be serious!...No...Please God NO!" her mind screamed.

She began to struggle frantically in her bonds. Roth kept an iron grip on her hair. Thrashing her head, she tried to free it from his grip, but this only resulted in more pain on her scalp.

The soldier turned his back on Chris and walked over to where Roth was holding Claire. Chris seemed to find a new energy at Roth's command. He lunged against the pillar, his arms contorting in their sockets as the handcuffs held him in place.

"You FUCKS! DON'T YOU TOUCH MY SISTER!" he screamed. The soldier turned around and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of Chris's head. The kick knocked Chris off his feet. He missed the stool as he fell, and his arms got tangled in it as he fell. A loud 'crack' sounded as his arm broke at the elbow. He cried out in pain and yelled his sisters name.

"I'll talk, I'll talk! Don't hurt her!" he screamed.

"It's far too late for that, Mr. Redfield. You will tell us all we know after we extract what we want from your sister," he reassured him. The soldier pulled out a knife from his belt.

"Right or left?" he asked, grinning.

"Surprise me," said Roth.

Claire closed both her eyes, as if her eyelids would save her. She felt the soldier's hand on her face. They were wet and sticky from Chris's blood. His thumb pried open her right eyelid. Her blue iris contracted, focusing on the point of the knife coming closer. Claire let out another scream.

A loud bang sounded behind them. The soldier looked up. An even louder bang echoed in the small room. The left side of the soldier's face vanished, becoming a mass of shredded bone and flesh. He dropped like a rock. His knife bounced off of Claire's lap. Roth released his grip on Claire, and plunged his hand into his coat. Another shot, not quite as loud as the first, sounded. It hit him in the gut and he fell over clutching his stomach. Automatic gunfire filled the room. The two other guards were peppered full of holes. The massive cannon shot rang out again, along with it's little brother, and added to the automatic.

All Claire could do was sit and whimper into her gag. She was trying to become as small as possible as the bullets whizzed over and around her. Her head was tucked down, and her knees were drawn up to her head. She felt hands at the knot of her gag. They undid it, and Claire looked up. Her vision was blurry from tears, but she recognized Barry. He holstered his massive .357 Colt Python in his holster. The magnum was responsible for the loudest bang, and it had saved Claire from the knife. Barry took out his knife. Jill was crouched next to him, digging in Roth's jacket. She pulled out his gun and flung it across the room. Both of them were wearing black body armor over their street clothes.

Another person was with them: a young girl with short brown reddish hair. She didn't have any armor on, but she wore a tactical vest. Claire recognized the S.T.A.R.S logo on the back. The girl holstered her gun at her hip and quickly jogged over to Chris, gingerly freeing the stool from it's tangle with his arms. Barry worked on cutting off the rope on Claire's arms and wrists. She was fidgeting; she wanted to get to Chris.

"Claire, I need you to hold still. I don't want to cut you," he said. Claire forced herself to settle down. She could feel Barry's knife slipping through the rope, dangerously close to her wrists. The blade made a few swipes, and the rope fell off. Claire's hands tingled as the blood rushed back in. He quickly cut through the ropes around her waist and legs. She sprang out of the chair and rushed to Chris's side. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. His blood filled eye looked at the two women above him, first at Claire, then at the girl.

"Rebecca?" he slurred. Claire looked at her. She couldn't be more than 18 or 19, only a little younger than Claire. Was this the S.T.A.R.S's field medic?

She smiled at him. "Yeah it's me Chris. Long story. I'll wait to tell you after I patch you up."

Barry dug a key off the belt of the dead soldier who's head was incomplete. He through it to Jill and she uncuffed his hands. Claire grabbed Chris's unbroken arm in hers, and pressed his hand against her mouth. Rebecca hurriedly examined Chris's injuries. Her small hands crept up his torso, lightly pressing. A few times, Chris gave out a moan.

"It looks like you have a few broken ribs," she said. Her hands moved to his face. They gently pried open his swollen eyes. "And you have a concussion." She looked at Barry. "We need to get him to a hospital. I don't have the resources to treat him." She turned her attention to Claire and looked at her with kind green eyes. "He'll be fine Claire, just let us get him out of here."

Roth groaned over by the entrance. His stomach was bleeding profusely. Jill stood over him and leveled the TMP she carried at him. "And you are?" she inquired.

He ignored her. "S.T.A.R.S scum," he hissed. "Umbrella will kill you all."

Claire was infuriated. She snatched Rebecca's gun out of it's holster and rushed over to Roth. She leveled the gun at his face and pulled the trigger. Barry pulled her arms up as she fired. The bullet dug ricocheted off the concrete floor just above Roth's head and buried itself in the wall. She struggled against him, but he was way to strong for her.

"Claire, we are not murderers!" he said. He pried the gun out of her hand. "I know what he and his men did to you and Chris, but that doesn't matter. If you kill him, you are no better than them, and Umbrella will have gained something they can use against us. Now, you have to calm down."

Claire stomped her foot like an angry child. She turned around and went back to her brothers side. She awkwardly looked at Rebecca.

"Sorry," she muttered. Rebecca smiled again.

"It's okay."

Barry told Jill to watch Roth, then went over and helped Claire get Chris to his feet. First he gave Rebecca her gun back. As Barry helped Chris to his feet, he cried out as he stood on his broken foot. He almost collapsed, but Claire and Rebecca caught him as he fell. Claire informed them of what was wrong.

"That'll make him harder to move," Rebecca said. "We need to leave. Now. Try not to move his arm Claire. It's broken pretty bad,"

Barry slung Chris's other arm over his shoulder, and Claire held him by the waist, easing his weight on Barry.

"Jill, take point," Barry ordered. Jill left Roth and went out to the hall, checking for more soldiers. Barry and Claire carried Chris out the door, with Rebecca watching their flanks. Cautiously, they moved through the building. Jill was always ahead of them, clearing each corner and room for more of Umbrella's soldiers. Luckily for them, it seemed that Roth's "loyal soldiers" extended to the mercenaries they just shot.

A pickup truck was waiting outside. Barry and Claire dropped Chris in the back seat gingerly. Rebecca squeezed in along with him. Barry hopped in the driver seat while Jill watched their backs. Claire got in the passenger seat, once again taking hold of Chris's unbroken arm. Barry hit the ignition, and Jill hopped into the truck bed. They peeled away from the warehouse and sped to the nearest hospital.