"I'm not afraid of you."
Ian wasn't impressed by the man's bravado – real or feigned. He'd had a pretty lousy couple of days, after all – and his had been sugar coated compared to what the villagers had been putting up with for far longer.
"What's your name?"
"That's none of your concern."
Ian pulled his Glock and pointed it at the man's head.
"If you kill me, you won't learn anything…"
"Not to mention the shot will bring down his men all over us," Andrew added.
Ian scowled.
"You're the one in charge?"
Ask a question you already know the answer to, that was one of the first rules of interrogation.
"What do you care?" The High Commander sneered. "You're obviously not from here. Go back where you came from and I'll allow you to live."
Ian went from annoyed to furious with lightening speed. With the hand not holding the Glock, he slapped the man. Hard. Right across the mouth. The High Commander's head snapped back with the force of the blow, striking his head against the tree behind him. His sneered turned quickly to fury as he spit a mouthful of blood.
"You'll die for that."
Ian made a noise that was far from worried.
"If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that…"
River grinned.
Which, of course, made the High Commander even more furious. Which was the whole idea, really. No one who took themselves that seriously liked to be mocked, and Ian was an expert at making someone feel or look foolish.
"So… you were telling me your name…?"
"Go to hell."
Ian slapped him again, just as hard – if not harder – and again the man's head snapped back.
"I can do this all day."
The High Commander sagged a bit in his bonds. The blows had truly been stunning considering they were open handed. He brought his head up almost immediately, however, furious with himself for the sign of weakness.
"So can I."
"Except that we have an audience…" Andrew reminded him – again in Asgard so the High Commander wouldn't know what he was saying. He was also careful to keep his tone hard and annoyed, when it was obvious to Ian and River that he was concerned or he wouldn't have brought it up.
Ian didn't turn around and look at the boy to give the topic of conversation away. As far as the High Commander was concerned, they were discussing how best to torture him further. Which Ian wasn't blood thirsty enough to do for long at any rate – although their prisoner didn't need to know that, of course.
"I'm open to suggestions…"
"I say we just kill him and then take out the rest of them," Andrew said. "They're bound to be unorganized without dipshit here. They probably wouldn't be that much of a challenge."
Ian shook his head.
"We can't be sure of that – and we're outnumbered a shitload to not many."
"We could take care of him and then start picking off the guys that are bound to be looking for us. Eventually we'll-"
"I'm not going to tell you anything," the High Commander said, clearly tired of not knowing what they were saying – and certain that they were discussing how best to kill him.
"Hey, Ian…" Andrew said, suddenly realizing something that they were all overlooking. The boy looked over, recognizing his name, and Andrew gave him a wave of apology. "Don't you have another way of getting his attention…? Even if the device doesn't work on people with the Ancient gene, you can still mess with their insides, can't you? You did with Shawn before and I know he has it…"
Ian looked at him, surprised – and a little chagrined that he hadn't considered that himself.
"Of course."
What had he been thinking? He turned back to the High Commander, and surprised the man by smiling.
"You're here to mine rock from the cave. I blew the shit out of the cave – and most of your men there while I was at it."
The High Commander scowled, but didn't agree with or deny the statement. Ian didn't give him a chance to wonder how he'd known that. Instead, he continued.
"You're also here looking for people with a certain gene. The gene that makes the Ancient technology – and your technology – work. A gene you carry in your blood, and I assume that you intend to pass on to your offspring some day."
The scowl faded.
"Did you know the Ancients?" Ian asked him almost conversationally. "I knew one or two of them. I learned some things from them. Things that I'm going to bet you don't know. Like how to heal with a touch." He touched the High Commander's chin, and the split lip he'd given the man when he'd slapped him the first time healed in only a moment.
The High Commander jerked his head back from Ian's touch, looking as if he'd been burned.
Ian wrapped his hand around the man's throat, his grip plenty strong enough to keep the man still – from the neck up anyways – and his dark eyes cold and unreadable.
"One assumes that if a touch can heal, then a touch can wound as well…"
The High Commander trembled, just a little, but it was a crack in the armor that hadn't been there before.
"Do you have children?" Ian asked.
"No…"
The voice was barely a whisper – but that was because of Ian's hand. Not fear.
"Do you ever want to?"
The threat was implied, but it was there. And very real.
"Why are you doing this?" the High Commander asked around the grip on his throat. "They're just simple villagers. They don't mean anything to-"
"They're our people, you piece of dogshit," Ian snapped, his hand tightening. "Ours. Not yours. And certainly not yours to do with as you wish."
"We need them," the High Commander squeaked. "Our people-"
"Ian!"
River had been keeping an eye on the surrounding area, even while he was listening to the conversation. He saw the last thing they needed to see. A group of searchers coming their way.
"How many?"
"A dozen."
Ian looked at the High Commander.
"Do you want to have children?"
He scowled, but knew that not answering would be foolish. Especially just then.
"Yes."
"Then keep your fucking mouth shut. Got it?"
There was another hesitation, but he nodded finally, and Ian released his throat. He looked over at Andrew.
"If he yells, shoot him first. Got it?"
Andrew nodded.
"Come on, River…" Ian said, slinging his P90 over his shoulder. "We need to distract them."
