Chapter 4 – For The Warden

Garrison, Goniff and Chief were dragged down the corridor and pushed into the holding room, three blankets were thrown on the floor. Chief waited for the door to be slammed and bolted before he got up and stepped quickly over to see how the other two were. Garrison was still unconscious but Goniff was groaning and semi-alert, he'd passed out in the truck and was now coming to.

"Goniff, Goniff! Come on, wake up," urged Chief as he patted him on the cheek.

Goniff opened his eyes and peered around groggily. "Chief? Where are we?"

"Back at that damn clinic, Warden's still out of it, he looks pretty banged up, the Krauts wouldn't let me near him on the truck."

"Ooh, my head really hurts, I feel dizzy," moaned Goniff.

Chief leaned over, gently put his hand on the back of the thief's head and felt a lump the size of a small egg, Goniff flinched and groaned again. "Think you gotta concussion Goniff, best you stay still."

Chief went to Garrison, knelt down and checked him over, he definitely had a broken leg, nothing was normal about the angle it was pointing. He had blood on his face and in his hair, his breathing sounded laboured and Chief guessed he probably had cracked or broken ribs as well, he rolled him on his back and tried to make him comfortable on a blanket. He looked at his friend's face and reached down to his leg. "Sorry Warden, at least you won't feel me doin' this." He pulled and twisted the broken bone into place." Goniff tried not to gag at the sound.

There was the sound of harsh voices in the distance as orders were barked out, Chief heard the sound of boots marching up and down the corridor, he had a good idea what was coming and it didn't bode well for Garrison, he was in no condition to be taken into that hellhole of a room, neither was Goniff. He looked at his two comrades and took a deep breath as he weighed up the options available to him, there was only one, he had no choice if he wanted to keep them safe until Actor and Casino could return to get them out, he knew what he had to do even though it scared him to think about it.

Chief quickly unbuckled his leather sheath, rolled it up and gave it to Goniff. "Hide this in your jacket, the guards missed it, most probably didn't know what it was, use the blade to cut up one o' the blankets 'n bind the Warden's leg after I'm gone," he hissed.

Goniff looked at him quizzically as he hid the sheath. "What you plannin' on doin' Chief?"

Chief now knew the feeling of foreboding that had dogged him since the briefing at the mansion was real, he'd sensed his own death coming for him. His heart thudded in his chest as he looked down at the unconscious man who was as close to him as a brother, he regretted he wouldn't have the chance to say goodbye and thank him for believing in him. Chief reached up, pulled the chain holding his medallion over his head and placed it around Garrison's neck, he put a hand on his friend's shoulder and whispered softly. Hágoónee' Ánaaí."

"Chief? What you doin'?" cried Goniff, he was getting really worried.

Chief looked at Goniff and gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Take care o' the Warden for me Goniff, keep him safe 'n get him home. Actor 'n Casino'll be here in a few hours, I'll buy you the time you need 'til they get here."

Heavy footsteps stopped outside the door, it was thrown open and three armed guards walked in, they aimed their guns at the three prisoners. Major Bergmann followed them in and regarded the prisoners coldly. "Which one of you is Garrison?"

Chief looked at Goniff in surprise, how did the German know Garrison's name? It didn't matter now. He summoned up his courage, breathed in deeply and looked at his friends for what could be the last time, he gave Goniff a small nod of encouragement, stood up and stepped forward.

Goniff suddenly realised what Chief was going to do and desperately shook his head "No don't," he cried hoarsely.

"I'm Garrison," said Chief calmly.

"Take him," ordered the Major and nodded to the guards, two of them grabbed Chief and dragged him out while the third covered the two men on the floor, once the others were clear he turned and followed.

The door slammed shut and Goniff heard the bolts being drawn across once more, he crawled over to Garrison, covered him with a blanket and sat next to him, he pulled another blanket over, pulled out the knife and started cutting strips, he looked at the door. "Oh Chief, what've you done?" he moaned to himself.

GG-GG-GG

The guards dragged their prisoner into the interrogation room and pushed him towards a chair situated in the middle, they roughly removed Chief's jacket, forced him to sit down and tied his arms and legs to the chair so he was immobile. He could hear the screams of the spirits trapped in the room. There was a tape recorder on the desk nearby, the Major switched it on and gave his captive a hostile glare. "So, you are the infamous Lieutenant Garrison. I have heard about your little exploits, but now they have come to an end along with you and your men. I must say you have caused some trouble for us."

Chief smiled grimly. "Happy to oblige."

Bergmann glared. "Why were those other men acting as SS officers? Why weren't you in charge?"

Chief looked up into the Major's angry face. "'Cos they speak Kraut better'n me, that's why I recruited 'em. Anyway I was in charge, don't matter what uniform I was wearin', they obey my orders."

Bergmann walked up and thrust his face close to Chief's. His voice was low and menacing. "You will give me the names of your Resistance contacts and tell me what you know about allied plans for this region. Do it and I will make sure your pathetic life ends quickly with a bullet, if you don't I can do things to you that will make you wish you were dead."

Chief regarded him with a level stare and snorted. "That supposed to scare me? Had worse threats from tougher men than you friend."

Bergmann looked puzzled for a second. "Tell me what I want to know, now!"

Chief looked at him calmly and gave him the only piece of information he knew, the words he'd heard over and over while sitting outside a window in a German compound in Norway. "Garrison, Lieutenant, 926314."

Bergmann punched him across the face. "Talk now or I will have your friends interrogated as well."

Chief coughed a short laugh and shook his head. "They don't know nothin'. They ain't my friends, they're convicts 'n I don't share information with cons, they can't be trusted."

The Major nodded. "Oh yes, I have been told about your little gang of thieves, a wise decision not to trust them. Very well, let us continue." He nodded to a guard who punched Chief in the gut. "Tell me the names of your Resistance contacts!"

Chief gasped. "Garrison, Lieutenant, 926314."

Bergmann nodded and the guard punched Chief hard in the face with his fist. "Tell me!"

"Garrison, Lieutenant, 926314." Chief shook his head as a trickle of blood ran down his cheek. "Tell Fritz here he hits like a girl!"

The interrogation carried on for three more brutal hours before Bergmann called a halt. Chief smiled grimly to himself, he'd had worse beatings in prison, besides he didn't have the information the Major wanted so he couldn't tell him a damn thing.

Bergmann was losing patience. "Very well, perhaps you would be more amenable if we tried something different." He looked at the guards. "Untie him and take his clothes off."

The guards untied Chief, stood him up and started to roughly strip him. He was immediately taken back to the time when he'd first gone to Statenville Prison, two guards had tried to drag him off somewhere private so they could introduce him to the fate usually suffered by 'pretty boys' like him in general population. He'd struggled for his life and managed to escape their clutches, in the ensuing fight he killed one and sent the other to hospital with serious injuries. As punishment he received a severe beating from the other guards, Warden Pryor then condemned him to a permanent stay in solitary and a life sentence fighting in the cage. After that he gained a reputation for violence which he did all he could to maintain and, despite his young age, no one ever tried to molest him again. After that the fear that someone would try always lurked at the back of his mind, making sure he slept lightly, aware of every sound around him.

"NO!" He yelled as instinct took over, he threw himself backward and shook off the guards. One grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around, the other punched him hard in the stomach. Chief headbutted the second guard as he fell forward and went to punch the first. The Major picked up a fallen rifle, Chief saw him coming and tried to resist but he was brutally clubbed on the side of his head, he fell, stunned to the floor and was helpless as the two guards pinned him down and went back to removing his clothes.

Bergmann nodded towards the metal tray in the corner of the room, it was clean now but Chief remembered how it had stunk of blood and bodily fluids and what had been in it the last time he was in here. He struggled as hard as he could as he was dragged up to his feet and half-carried over to it, but was too dazed after the blow from the rifle, his hands were forced into shackles attached to a rope running through a pulley in the ceiling. The Major nodded and Chief was hauled up until his feet dangled just off the floor, the trapped spirits whirled around him, crying out in pain, he tried to shut them out.

Bergmann walked up to him and pushed him so that he revolved around in front of him. "This will be the beginning of a very long night for you if you do not co-operate Lieutenant."

Chief waited until he was facing the Major again. "Got nothin' to tell you," he said truthfully, "so go to hell!"

"Very well." Bergmann walked over to his desk and took out what appeared to be a long, thin riding crop, he flexed it and walked over to his helpless victim, there was a loud whoosh as he slashed Chief across the back, a thin red welt rose quickly and blood oozed. For the next thirty minutes Bergmann didn't ask any questions, he just continued whipping his victim with a sadistic smile on his face. Occasionally a guard would smash his rifle butt into Chief's exposed side, or head sending him helplessly swinging round to expose fresh skin to be abused.

Chief closed his eyes and tried to breath deeply and evenly as he endured the beating, he'd learned long ago that he couldn't do anything to stop the violence and pain being inflicted on him but he could control his reaction to it. He recalled when, as a six year old boy, he'd broken his arm, his grandfather had carefully set and bound it and soothed his crying grandson. He told him that pain was like a wild horse, the bigger the pain, the larger the horse appeared. He had to picture the horse in his head and try to approach it, he had to calm it down and make it his friend, once it had accepted him he could climb on. He wouldn't be able to force it to do what he wanted, it would fight back, but if he became one with it and gently guided it he could ride the pain until eventually he could get off.

When he was a little older his grandfather showed him how to find the place deep down in his mind where he could shut himself away from his body if the pain was too great and the horse too wild to bear him. He taught him how to enter and close the door behind him, keeping out all physical sensation, he should only open it to see if the horse was waiting, ready to accept him.

Chief had often used his grandfather's teachings to help ease the pain from the agonising injuries he'd received during his many cage fights in prison when the beatings had been too much and the pain too excruciating. He was rarely given painkillers and would lie for hours on his cot in solitary confinement taming and riding the horse in his mind. On the few occasions when the beating was really bad and he had to go deep the guards just thought he was unconscious and left him alone, sometimes for days.

This horse was big, a huge black stallion with flaring red nostrils and white rimmed eyes. Chief put out his hand and let it sniff him, it snorted and backed away. He slowly walked to its side and stroked its flank. It reared and sidled away prancing on sharp, black hooves. He followed gently coaxing it to accept him, eventually it stopped and stood breathing heavily, he slipped onto its back, tangled his hand in its mane and gripped tightly with his knees, he had to hold on until Actor and Casino could get back. He stroked the powerful neck down to the shoulder, leaned forward and whispered into an ear. "Carry me well brother, I won't let him down."

Bergmann stopped and surveyed his handiwork, the prisoner's body was a latticework of deep, bloody wounds stretching from his neck down his chest, back, buttocks and thighs, blood was running down his legs, dripping from his toes and landing in the metal tray, large dark bruises were appearing on his face and body. He stepped forward, roughly grabbed Chief's hair and dragged his face close to his. "Who are your contacts and what are the allied plans for this area?"

Chief opened an eye, looked at the Major and spat some blood on the floor. "Garrison... Lieutenant... 926314."

Bergmann threw the crop to the floor in frustration, glared at the man in front of him and punched him hard in the stomach sending him swinging, Chief gasped for air. "Set up the electric shock equipment, get him ready." Bergmann shouted to a guard.

The Major stepped back and looked on as one of the guards poured a bucket of cold water over Chief's head, he smiled as he watched his victim's blood mix with the water and run down his body to create a bloody pool in the tray. He walked to the table and picked up what looked like a cattle prod, it had a bronze tip and an insulated handle, it was connected by a wire to a control box with a rheostat to adjust the voltage, a transformer connected everything to a mains wall socket. One of the guards stood ready by the rheostat.

Chief watched the Major out the corner of his eye, he knew what was coming next and his heart started pounding in his chest. He had to get through this, he had to last out for as long as he could to buy time for Actor and Casino to come up with a plan and get back there, he knew they wouldn't leave them behind. Garrison and Goniff were depending on him to protect them, he had to be strong for them or they would be next.

He accepted that his spirit wouldn't be able fly free if he died here, it would be imprisoned, suffering for ever in torment with the others, but if it hadn't been for Garrison it would have been trapped months ago in a cell in Attica. He'd enjoyed freedom, even if it had only been for a few, short months, now it was time to pay the price, he'd do it for the Warden, his Ánaaí and for Goniff, his friend. He took in a long, deep breath, let it out slowly and resigned himself to his fate.

Bergmann gave a thin smile as he considered the device in his hand. "This is a very interesting form of interrogation Garrison, it may be crude but it is very effective. This prod delivers a high voltage, low current electric shock meaning that, used correctly, I can make your torture last a very long time. Believe me you will talk, sooner or later you will talk, it is up to you how long that will take." He nodded to the guard, he connected the transformer to the electrical supply. The rheostat hummed.

Bergmann waved the prod slowly in front of Chief's face. "This will affect your brain, you will feel disoriented and confused, that will make you more inclined to answer my questions. You will most certainly lose control of your bodily functions. It is also very, very painful." He paused. "Do you understand what I have told you?" Chief looked him defiantly in the eye and nodded. "Do you have anything to tell me about your Resistance contacts and what the allies have planned?"

"Garrison... Lieutenant... 926314."

Bergmann applied the prod to Chief's wet chest, there was the sickening smell of burning flesh. Chief's body arched in pain and he threw his head back gasping for air. The spirits howled in his ears and tried to drag him out of his body to join them, he fought them off and concentrated on what he had to do. He gently turned the horse away to distance himself from his body but not so far that he couldn't have some control of its reactions or hear what was going on. He vaguely felt the electricity course through him. He let his body scream.

GG-GG-GG

Garrison gradually came to, tried to move and let out a low moan at the pain from his broken leg and ribs, he lay back and became aware of someone sitting next to him. "At last, you're awake! How you feelin' Warden?"

Garrison shook his head, trying to clear the fog clouding his brain. "Goniff? What happened?"

"The Krauts ambushed us 'n blew the tyres out, Chief did his best but he couldn't control the car 'n we crashed. I was thrown clear but you were trapped inside, it caught fire 'n Chief got you out before it blew up. You got a broken leg 'n I got a crack on me 'ead. Chief wasn't hurt, he could've gotten clean away but he stayed with us, he tried to fight off the Krauts but there was too many of 'em."

Garrison blinked his eyes and rubbed his face. "Where are we?"

Goniff shuddered. "Where'd yah think Warden? We're back in that bloody clinic."

Garrison looked around, searching for a familiar figure. "Where's Chief? Is he injured? Is he...?"

Goniff quickly shook his head. "No Warden, he's alive. At least he was last time I saw 'im."

Garrison looked at Goniff quizzically. "What do you mean last time you saw him?" Goniff squirmed and seemed reluctant to reply, Garrison's expression changed to one of alarm. "Goniff, what's happened? Where's Chief?"

Goniff shrunk into himself and gave Garrison a look of utter misery. "Warden it was awful. They threw us in 'ere, they even knew who we were 'n asked for you by name."

Garrison shook his head. "What? That's not possible, no-one here knows who we are."

Goniff cast a quick look at the door. "Well those bastards bleedin' well knew alright. They were gonna take you to that bloody interrogation room 'n work you over. Chief knew you were in no condition to survive what they were gonna do to you, so he told 'em he was you 'n took your place."

Garrison tried to get up. "No, he can't do that!" he gasped, "I'd never let him do that!"

"It's too late, there's nothin' you can do Warden," Goniff cried as he pulled him back down. "They've had him for hours now."

Garrison tried, unsuccessfully to shake the thief off. "I'll call the guards, I'll tell them who I am!"

"No Warden." Goniff's voice shook. "Chief told me to keep you safe while he bought time for Actor 'n Casino to get to us 'n that's what I'm gonna do. You can fight me all you want but that's what he asked me to do 'n I'll do it, no matter what."

Garrison relented, he sat back and leaned against the wall. "Did he say anything else Goniff?" he asked.

Goniff frowned as he tried to remember. "I think he spoke Navajo to you, you know since you're blood brothers 'n all. It sounded like Hagoney Ánaaí. I know Ánaaí means big brother, I don't know the other word."

"Hágoónee'," said Garrison and his heart dropped, Chief had taught him a few Navajo words and phrases, he knew what that one meant. Goniff could see the look of despair on Garrison's face. "He said goodbye," Garrison said quietly, he looked down at his broken leg. "He didn't expect to come back and said goodbye and I didn't hear him or say anything to stop him."

Goniff reached out and gently touched Garrison's arm. "You couldn't have stopped him Warden, we both know that. Chief'll always have your back."

Garrison laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Why did he do it Goniff?"

"We asked him the same question after he got you outta Norway." Goniff paused to remember the conversation. "We asked him why he went back for you."

"What did he say?" Garrison asked quietly.

"He said you'd rescued him from a livin' hell in Attica 'n death fightin' in the cage. That's why he went back for you 'n he'd do it again without a second thought. He said he owed you 'n he'd never be free of that debt 'til he died." Goniff looked at Garrison. "We can't let him down Warden, he wants you safe 'n that's what's gonna happen. He gave me this." He showed Garrison the rolled up sheath and put it back in his jacket.

Ten minutes later the lights dimmed and flickered. An agonised scream echoed down the corridor. "Oh God no, Chief!" cried Garrison. Goniff curled into himself and shuddered.

GG-GG-GG

Bergmann pushed his helpless victim so he swung over the bloodstained tray. "Well Garrison we can do this all night. Are you going to talk?"

Chief raised his head and glared at the Major. "Garrison... Lieutenant... 926314," he gasped.

The prod burned tender flesh, the lights dimmed, Chief screamed again, in his mind he rode the horse, it was prancing and rearing but he stayed on easily, he stroked its neck and murmured encouragement in its ear. "Talk!" yelled the Major.

"Ok Kraut, you want me to talk, I'll talk," Chief thought, he went back to the time when he would sit at his grandfather's feet and listen, entranced to the old stories, he'd loved the tales about Coyote the Trickster, he recalled every word and started to tell the story. Bergmann glared at the guard who was monitoring the recording. "This is nonsense! What is he saying?" The guard shrugged.

The lights dimmed again as the prod viciously dug into Chief's back. "Speak English!" the Major shouted, Chief screamed and told them more about Coyote. Bergmann was getting angrier and angrier, he jabbed and poked Chief with the prod as he swung round on the rope. The lights dimmed and flickered almost continuously. Chief screamed and screamed and started to tell the stories over again.

GG-GG-GG

Garrison and Goniff could do nothing but listen to the agonising sounds of torture coming from the interrogation room. Goniff was still sitting hunched up on the floor, he was holding the leather sheath tightly to his chest as if he could somehow communicate with Chief and pass on strength, comfort and support. Every time he heard a scream he would flinch and shut his eyes as if he was being tortured himself.

Garrison leaned against the wall with his broken leg stretched out in front of him, it ached and throbbed along with his ribs but he knew that was nothing compared to what Chief was suffering. He made himself listen to every scream, fists clenched by his side as he lived through every torturous second, he owed it to his friend, his Atsilí, to go through it with him.