Chapter 12:

Jack had left Elizabeth for some time after she had told him about the two men. He needed a few things to get in motion – coordinating with police, seeing if there had been any murders lately – trying to find some way to track these two bastards down as soon as possible. He had asked Martin to head over to Danny's apartment, trying to find out if he had been able to gather any information on the two men, too. Although the younger agent's expression had clearly told him he was uncomfortable with the demand, he had agreed without questioning.

Samantha had returned while he had been talking to Beth and although he only had managed to get a short look at her, he had clearly seen by the expression on her face that she was shook up. She hadn't been that prepared for the visit in hospital, although she had told him that. He was sorry about it – he hadn't wanted her to go through this, but from the reaction of both women – it had been inevitable...

Samantha however had taken the chance of having a talk with Elizabeth while she was alone. The visit in hospital had left her with about a million questions and even more and deeply disturbing imaginations and thoughts. She needed someone who could tell her some definite things,who knew what had been going on. She needed some certainty, even if it would be troubling and painful to listen to it, but she needed to know.

She left her desk, crossing the wide room and directly heading to Jack's office. Her superior still hadn't returned, which left her the time to talk with the other woman sitting inside there. She gently opened the door, facing Elizabeth and hoped that the smile she tried to force on her face, was a friendly one.

„Miss Tejar?"

„Just call me Beth."

"Okay – uhm – Beth… What happened?"

"I'm, sorry…?"

"To Agent Taylor? What happened to him?"

"I don't think…"

"Please – I know it's hard, but I need to know. Please tell me what you know, tell me what happened to him!"

Beth reached into her backpack by her side and got out a case she put on the table. She took

it in her hands, opened it and flipped through the documents inside of it and fetched one. She had a deadly serious expression on her face when she closed the file again and pushed the picture above the table into Sam's direction.

She couldn't keep herself from breathing in deeply and swallowing hard when she detected what the picture was showing. It was a photography of probably 20 to 30 years of age. It was showing a close up, black and white picture of a young and definitely dead chilean male.

The man's face was bruised and both his arms and his left leg lay in a sickening wrong angle – they definitely had been broken. There were deep cuts and burn marks showing on his body and in having a closer look, one could detect that he was missing a finger, his hand looking infected. It had most definitely been a form of torment. The expression on his face – contorted in pain and hopelessness - showed that he must have died a horrible death.

"This man was a journalist, being in favour with the opponent political party and writing about the dictatorship as what it was – a cruel form of surpressing their own citizens. He was taken from his own house in the middle of the night and taken to the imprisonment camp I did my research on. His wife and four year old daughter had been taken alongside with him. They were executed in front of his very eyes.

Samantha pushed the picture aside, giving it back to Elizabeth and swallowed hard. But she managed to look the other woman in the eyes trying not to show her feelings to her and stay strong.

"Are you sure you wanna know?"

She wouldn't give up on this now, she would go for it. No matter how hard it would become and how much she would wish for Beth to stop in what she would be telling her. The doctor – as careful and sympathic as she had been – had only been able to give medical details. But that wasn't what Sam actually wanted to hear about. She needed to know what had happened during that two days of Danny's disappearance, what he had gone through. Beth was able to tell her…

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure."

Beth nodded silently as she took the picture away, back to the file and to her backpack. She hesitated some more seconds as she seemed to think about a way to start this, a way to tell her about the cruelties and unbelievable things that had happened during these two days. A way to give her a chance to cope with what she would get to know.

"Alright then… as I already told you the picture you have just seen is from a secret imprisonment camp in Chile. Opponents of the government – individual people, politics and private groups, were taken there. Whole families just vanished from their houses in the middle of the night. That's where they woke up the next morning..."

She looked into Samantha's face, immediately understanding that she started to talk in rage – rage about what had happened in her home country. However that wasn't what the young woman sitting opposite of her was interested in. She needed to keep that in mind.

"To make a long story short – the camp was just like a prison. Apart from the fact that people were tortured there, brutally tortured – till they died. It was the job of the ones in responsibility of this camp to gather information – in every way possible. They chose this way. Now – the people leading these camps and being responsible for the torment are the people, I was sent here to search for."

"And you believe these are the same people who are responsible for Danny's injuries?"

"I don't believe so, I know it – as I had asked him to help me find them. It was definitely them, the whole list of injuries shows their handwriting."

"Their handwriting... Why did they do it, why?"

Elizabeth was showing her a sympathetic smile, but her voice didn't have any sign of emotion in it as she answered her question.

"For information gathering. They most definitely knew I was looking for them and I guess they wanted to know how close I had managed to get to them."

"And you believe they got that information from him?"

"From the injuries he sustained and the enormous amount of pain he had been forced to go through, I think it's most definitely impossible that he was able to hide back the information he knew about..."

"He's strong, you know..."

"Everybody is breakable Agent Spade, it's simply a matter of time and the amount of pain put on one's body. After a certain period of time one would do anything to make the pain go away. Anything."

"Then tell me about it, tell me what happened to him."

Flashback

He could feel the pain – every last muscle in his body seemed to ache all over and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't even able to shift into a more comfortable position – he couldn't do anything against the pain. He desperately wished for some sort of sedative, something to soothe the pain, but he wouldn't get any of those things. He needed to pull through this, needed to endure the pain – there was nothing else left for him to do.

He knew they would come back, he knew they would hurt him again – they would hurt him as long as he would not tell them what he knew about Elizabeth and if he did they would kill him. He knew what this was all about, Elizabeth had told him. All this pain was simply about breaking into his mind, breaking his will – pushing him to the point where he would finally give in and tell them everything they wanted to know.

He was afraid – he couldn't keep that from himself, although he had sworn to himself he would be strong and just endure. But the injuries they had brought on him, the injuries he could still feel – his throbbing legs, lying in a completely wrong angle and causing spasms in his muscles, the cuts on his forearms and back and the blood from it, which had flown onto the bedsheet under him, sticking to it and causing it to hurt even more, when he tried to move in bed.

The most uncomfortable thing right now, was his broken wrist. He was still bound to the damn bed and he was not able to move his hand anymore, trying to keep his circulation going. The steel wire they had newly attached to his arms cut into his already injured wrist and it really hurt like hell. He couldn't do anything about it. The one thing he could have done was to scream in pain, but he wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

He was thirsty, he was so goddamn thirsty. The last thing he had to drink had been a cup of coffee about two hours before he had left from work to get home. He had no idea how long ago that was, but as he was in desperate need of some water, feeling the dry tickling in his throat he couldn't seem to get rid of. But he wouldn't ask them for some, he wouldn't ask anything from them. He got a chance right at that moment as the men returned to the room.

"Agent Taylor – have we been able to change your opinion?"

He didn't answer the question, unwilling to talk to his attacker. He wouldn't give him any form of satisfaction, he wouldn't talk to this man like under given circumstances it was actually possible to have a normal conversation – which was exactly what his assailant seemed to believe. As he spoke up again however, there seemed a slight tone of annoyance in his voice.

"You can make this as pleasant or unpleasant as you want it to be – it's all your decision. All I am asking from you as an answer to a very simple question. What do you know about Elizabeth Tejar?"

"I don't know anyone with that name."

"Come now, Agent Taylor, stop lying to me. That's not very polite, I haven't given you any reason to treat me like that."

"Yeah, except from kidnapping, locking me up in some dark room and torturing me – no, you didn't give me any reason."

"I didn't do any of those things. I'm only asking you questions."

"Well – I won't answer your questions."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Then I don't see any other option than to leave you alone with the two gentlemen you already have come in contact with."

Danny swallowed hard, but didn't say a single thing. He was afraid, but he told himself over and over again not to have anyone notice that fact. He needed his strength to stand up against his opponents as long as he could – at least literally.

"And I will once again have the politeness to tell you what is going to happen to you. The tool the man next to you is holding in hands is a branding iron – I don't think I need to tell you what he is going to do with it."

He had burned himself once – he had been a child when it happened, playing with Rafael. They had rushed through the kitchen where his mother had been cooking dinner. He had put a hand down on the hot stove and it had hurt like hell. The scar was still visible on his hand...

He couldn't imagine what this would feel like. The last time he had been surprised by the pain that rushed over him when he had hurt himself, but this would be done to him intentionally – he knew what was going to happen next and he had no chance to escape it.

"Any second thoughts, Agent Taylor?"

He didn't want this to happen, he didn't want to be hurt like that, but he knew he couldn't prevent it. These people weren't fair, they had no sense for dignity and justice. He could tell them whatever he knew and they would kill him immediately, probably injure him none the less before they would do so.

"I didn't think you would have."

Seconds after Adamén had decided to give a last remark to Danny's unwillingness, the hot iron was brought down on his already beaten and throbbing body. He could hear the sickening sound of the metal connecting with his exposed flesh and the agonizing feeling of pain left him with nothing else to do, but scream.

End of flashback