Note: This chapter is very gritty. Read with caution if rough interrogation scenes bother you.

Chapter Seven

The sound of Tails' boots echoed throughout the hallway leading to the detention area as he angrily made his way to one of the cells, carrying a small silver box by its handle with his left hand. A bitter scowl was present on his face, and his eyes were saturated with piquant disgust. The fact that he and his friends had been tricked into taking hundreds of innocent lives was more than he could bear, and he was going to make sure the Freedom Fighters' two new captives realized their mistake in doing so. As well, he was annoyed that the incident had served as a delay in the search for his wife, but he knew it was his responsibility as a Freedom Fighter to see to it that the mess was cleaned up as quickly as possible. Every second that passed was a second lost in gathering life-saving intel from the captives, not only to derail any possible enemy operations, but also because they might very well have had assassins following them with the intent of keeping them from talking.

The group had a small team of people who normally carried out interrogations, but Tails was set on doing it himself because he had been thrust into the dead-center of the most recent fiasco, and because these were people who had a hand in the recent upsurge of shapeshifting killdrones. He had looked over their files before making his way to the holding section and found that the person who had accompanied the captain was responsible for some, if not all of the killdrones' manufacturing and logistics. That meant there was a ton of valuable information to be extracted, and if there happened to be a password for a possible database containing the activities of each unit, he might very well find out where Kaolin was downed. The thought brought an ephemeral smile to his otherwise sour countenance, almost nonexistent.

Tails approached a code-protected door at the end of the hallway and punched a few numbers into the keypad, then swiped a keycard. A small light switched from red to green, and the door slid open with a sound resembling a brush being moved across a polished concrete floor. A flood of cool air moved past his legs as he entered the wanly-lit observation room, though his suit prevented him from feeling it. The fox barely nodded to the two guards present, then shifted his glance to one of the five doors. "Is this the room with the captain?"

One of the guards, a fairly short raccoon with a stocky build, responded while grabbing a keycard from his pocket. "Yes sir, it is. Let me get that for you." He was unaware that Tails had the ability to open the door on his own, and unlocked it before the fox had a chance to protest.

"Is there a camera linked to a television in the other captive's room?"

"Yes there is."

"Good." Tails wanted the second prisoner to witness what would happen to him if he failed to divulge his knowledge when it was requested.

The guard opened the heavy door and allowed Tails to enter the room. The Shaulandic captain, a rough-looking individual who appeared to be a cross between a wolf and a coyote, was sitting motionlessly at a metal table with a stolid expression, hands cuffed behind his back to the chair. He gave a mocking smile when he saw Tails come in. "Well hello there! Are you here to make me pay for that amusing incident just a short whil-..."

His words were cut short when a gloved fist plowed into his face, the blow intensified by the cybernetic suit the fox was still wearing. One of his teeth was ejected and sent sailing into a corner.

"My world. My rules. Do not speak until spoken to." The words barked by Tails were ascerbic to the core. He clenched the fist that had been used to smack the captain and winced ever so slightly. Again, he was pleased by the performance of the suit, but disappointed that he didn't make cybernetic gloves to ease the pain that was still allowed to be transmitted through standard gloves. He took a few steps in reverse and clasped his hands behind his back, keeping a steely gaze fixed onto his subject. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Miles Prower, as I'm sure you are aware of, Captain Dunasto Brewington. You will tell me what I desire to know. Failure to acquiesce will result in wrath. Understood? Oh and please, don't be embarrassed to call me 'sir.'"

Dunasto spat some blood on the floor while facing away from Tails, then slowly looked up at him with a truly irritated mien. "Do you honestly think I haven't prepared for an event such as this? I've been through more training than your files probably show."

Tails smirked. "We'll see about that. Now then, what was the point of tricking us into attacking those freighters?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm making a documentary on the stupidity of you people. I will make MILLIONS once I sell it to a..."

Tails smacked him again, this time much harder and leaving his nose bloody. "How about a straight answer? You also forgot 'sir.'"

The captain huffed as he dealt with the stark pain. "You know, I met one of the families aboard the freighter you shot down. There were three young children. So cute. So innocent. One had a pink teddy bear."

That response caused a fire to ignite within Tails' eyes. Instead of punching him again, he opened the box he'd brought and removed a different glove. It was jet black, save for a network of coppery wires and dots lining the pads of the fingers, thumb and palm, as well as the knuckles. There was also a slight rise on the back with a knob—a compartment for electronics and power storage. He took off his right glove and slipped on the other in its place, then held his hand out and brought his fingers in toward each other. Bright blue filaments of energy arced between them, emitting popping and zapping sounds.

The captain's expression remained unchanged until Tails touched him on his shoulder, resulting in a loud 'pop' and a shriek. "Silence bad. Sarcasm bad. Straight answer good."

"Is that it? Do it again."

Tails raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and turned the knob to double the power output. He firmly pinched the captain's shoulder that time, and the wolf-coyote hybrid jolted and clenched his teeth as the electricity danced through his nerves, but remained utterly defiant. "Why is it so hard for you to answer that simple question?"

"To humor you, my leader wanted a laugh. Happy?" The reply came amidst heavy breathing and mild shivering.

The fox nodded and turned the dial up again. He figured he was telling the truth because of the Shaulandic leader's brutality, and it fit his beliefs about the man. It was a fairly vague response, but he determined that more would be revealed once his next question was answered. "Now then, I will need the access codes which were bequeathed upon you, just as they are to each captain. I will need each and every one, and not one less. I will know which ones you are holding back, should you do so."

He laughed aloud. "THAT I cannot do. I'll be taking those to my grave."

"Oh? What if I won't allow that to happen?" Tails slid the table away, leading to a cacophony of metallic squeaks and screeches from the worn legs, then began to slowly pace around the chair. "What if I choose to keep you here alive? Believe me, we have methods that will make you plead for death." He knew how sadistic and unsavory that sounded, but it got accurate results out of all but the hardest of subjects. He slowly moved closer, each step heavy to make an intimidating echo. "We can do things that will make living through this undesirable. Take this glove for instance. If I keep it on you long enough, you will suffer permanent nerve damage. You will be unable to do anything you used to be able to do, and you will rot in one of our prisons for the remainder of your days. You will be alone. You will be sheltered from all sounds and probably light, too. You will learn new meaning to boredom and isolation. Each day will feel like a week, and each month as a year."

Dunasto smirked. "Again, I have prepared to sacrifice all for my country. For the record, that little bug zapper may cause initial pain, but I quickly get used to it. The shaking and labored breathing you see is only nervous response, not pain."

Tails knew he was lying. He could tell the guy was enduring a considerable amount of pain during the shock session, and that was only from a pinch. The fox sighed and placed his entire hand on one of the captain's knees and grasped it tightly after turning the dial to a much higher setting. It took a good twenty seconds of continuous shock before the so-called hardened soldier began screaming at the tops of his lungs. Tails lifted his hand, revealing a charred, smoking spot on the individual's pants, and the smell of burnt fibers and scorched fur permeated the room. Coding whispered from a strained, cracked voice fell upon his ears as well as the recording devices he was wearing, thus allowing the information to be transmitted to the base's computers.

In the other room sat the second Shaulandic official in front of the television monitor, silently awestruck that his superior had cracked so easily. A cold shiver ran down his spine when he imagined the treatment being used on him next, but he knew he had to keep his side of the information under wraps, and he was intent on being a solid rock of reticence, no matter what the penalty.

Tails removed his glove and placed it inside the silver box, then made his way out the door after pressing the necessary keys and swiping the keycard. The two guards tried in vain not to look at him as he serenely ambled to the next holding room. The vulpine wasn't entirely calm; within his mind, he was fairly disturbed that he had conveyed an interrogation - and a rough one at that - without even batting an eye. He had done two or three in the past, but those were more along the lines of intimidation and minor pain amplified by psychological stimulation rather than outright torture, and he even had some trouble with that. It was because he had been tricked into killing hundreds of innocents that he went along with it. In his eyes, it was a personal issue that he felt was his responsibility to attend to.

He repeated the entry procedure on the second door and advanced forth. His next subject, a slender badger of medium height named Alexander Barnard, was reluctant in making eye contact. Tails shut the door and strolled to the table, then set the box down and looked at the individual. "I take it you saw what happened, yes?" The question was conveyed with a dangerously cool tone.

Alexander made nary a peep and kept his eyes fixed on a wall.

Tails began pacing again and rubbed his temples. He seriously wanted it to be over with as soon as possible so he could feed his burning desire to search for Kaolin. "I'm not in the mood for this, so I'll get to the point quickly. That convoy was purported to be a shipment of shapeshifting killdrones, but instead it was a load of civilians."—The last word was broken—"Where are the drones?"

The captive held his silence without flinching.

Annoyed, Tails walked to the table with a more hurried pace, opened the silver box and slipped the shock glove back on. It would have made more sense to have left it on from the previous interrogation, but he knew that merely opening the box caused some prisoners to think twice. He allowed the electricity to arc between his fingers again and assumed a far more stern countenance. "SPEAK!" The shouted word came a second before the scowling fox plowed a charged fist into the defiant prisoner's abdomen, the force of which caused the chair to briefly leave the floor. A spray of saliva shot from the badger's mouth, and his stunned expression denoted lament for refusing to cooperate. This was because Tails had failed to remember that he was even wearing his power suit—memory clouded by anger—and the blow came very close to damaging one of Alexander's organs.

"THEY...ARE A HUNDRED AND FOURTY-FIVE MILES EAST OF FORT DALLAS..."—His blurted sentence tapered off to a calmer, strained whisper—"hidden in a facility." He then gave the coordinates while breathing heavily and coughing. The pain was almost too much for him to handle.

"Howzabout the access codes to their systems?"

Alexander stopped briefly to catch his breath and rattled off the codes, then coughed a few more times before continuing. "They will probably change them soon."

Tails leaned into his subject's face and looked him square in the eyes. "Are there visual records of every battle that each of them has gone through?"

"Yes."

Eureka. "Are you aware that one of your drones had shot down my wife?"

"Yes."

Double eureka. "Where was she shot down?"

"I...I don't remember the exact location because I don't typically pay enough attention to dogfights to recall exact numbers, but they will be in the databanks."

Silently ecstatic, Tails quickly removed the glove, stuffed it into the silver box and made his way out of the room apace. On his way through the observation room, he looked at the guards and cursorily suggested medical treatment be brought to their captives, to which they nodded. He then sped through the doorway and down the hall, mind buzzing with activity and anticipation. His next destination was the main computer terminal in the command room, which would not only allow him access to the killdrones' flight history databanks more efficiently, but would record the information every step of the way.

When he rounded a corner, he had a head-on collision with another individual. Tails immediately offered his apologies, but did a double-take when he saw that it was Sally's brother, Elias Acorn.

"Elias? What are you doing here? I thought you were leading forces near New Lubbock." The fox tried to suppress his surprise. "Also, it's good to see you again."

The brown squirrel lightly dusted the front of his blue shirt. "Likewise, Miles." He then paused briefly to position himself at a more comfortable stance. "Well, we hit a lull in attacks, so I decided to pay you guys a visit. The recent attack on this place got me worried, and I was disheartened to hear my sister had been injured. I've already been to the infirmary to see her. I must also express my sympathies to Bunny, Rotor, and especially Antoine."

Tails nodded. "Yes, we got hit hard, but we ended up capturing some high-value targets. I just got through, eh, interrogating them."

Elias raised his eyebrows in mild astonishment. "I was unaware you did that sort of thing."

"It...it was a personal issue. See, Sonic, Amy and I were tricked into..." He looked away and angrily pursed his lips and clenched his fists. "We were tricked into attacking civilians. This came right after I began a search for my wife, who was shot down about an hour ago." There was obvious irritation in his words.

"Oh dear, is...is Kaolin..."

"I think there's a chance she's still alive, and with the info I just got from one of the clowns I interrogated, I'll find out soon."

Elias' eyes widened, and he hurriedly stepped out of Tails' path. "Oh! Don't let me hold you up, then. In fact, I'll assist you, if you'd like."

A smile appeared on the fox's face. "Thank you, it would be appreciated."

Not two seconds passed before a device in Tails' belt began to buzz and chirp loudly. His heartrate spiked, and his eyes practically expanded to the size of dinner plates. It was Kaolin's personal emergency signal.

"What...what is that?" Elias' facial expression denoted slight panic.

"We need to move FAST. That's Kaolin's signal. She's alive."

The two sprinted down the hallway to gather Amy and Sonic. Time was running out, because if they heard the signal, it was possible, though unlikely, that the enemy forces' signal monitors did, too.

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Author's notes: Thank you for reading, and stick around for Chapter Eight, coming soon! Please review!

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Canon Sonic characters and places © Sonic Team, Sega
Kaolin, story, other original characters, countries and organizations, etc © NuclearCookout