It had now been more than two hours since they had strung David back up.
"Okay. We're back in." Nods all around.
They opened the door and entered the darkness. David was exactly where they had left him, dangling from the ceiling in tattered clothes. What was surprising is that he had somehow managed to fall asleep.
The sound of the door clanging had awakened him with a start. He started to protest his innocence but petered off. Richard was standing in front of him with a mug of orange juice and a plate of corned beef, a slice of cheese, and bread.
"Oh good, you're awake," He moved closer. "I was worried we might have woken you."
The look on his face would've been comical if it were so macabre.
"You hungry? I know you are. The food in here sucks."
They stared at each other for a moment. The silence between them stretching on for what seemed like eons, even though it couldn't have been more than five seconds.
"You know what, let's get you down for a bit." Richard motioned for his men to lax the chains.
They came forward and gently lowered him down onto the floor. McCormick brought David a chair, and once he was seated, Richard gave him the mug of orange juice. David sucked it down rapidly, draining it in a matter of seconds. Then, he gave him the small plate of food.
Ravenously, he dug in. For several seconds the only sound was of him tearing into the food. He finished, and he unashamedly licked the bowl clean.
"Thank you." He murmured.
"You're welcome."
Sighing, Richard leaned forward on his elbows.
"David, we don't like treating you like this, but you have to cooperate."
He stood and proceeded to stretch his shoulders. He picked up the bucket and placed it next to the container of water.
"I'll tell you what. You give me the location of one, just one weapon's cache, and I'll, and I'll get you a warm blanket and a proper meal. What do you say?"
This was a vital part of the process. Punishment without reward is pointless. The subject needs to feel like he has something to strive for. If he complies, he will get rewarded. Prolonged and acute pain will erode even the strongest of loyalties.
David was clearly warring with himself, but after a moment, he let out a trembling sigh.
"I don't know anything."
The silence in the room that followed could've cut meat.
"Okay. Okay," Richard moved forward and pried from David the mug.
"That's okay."
"Please, I don't know-"
Whatever he was going to say was cut short as Richard kicked the chair out from underneath his feet. The others in the room proceeded with their functions. McCormick filled the bucket with water, and Jameson got the hood and rag.
"We did try to be nice, David." It was hard to speak, considering how hard he was fighting to keep him pinned.
With considerable effort, they managed to get the hood over his head and pressed the rag to his face.
"Last chance David, this is your last chance to help yourself. Where is the next attack's coming? What does the prince have planned?"
No reply. Growling, Richard started pouring the water. Again, David thrashed and gurgled violently. While the subject is undergoing to the dehumanization process, repeatedly stating the means to salvation is crucial. The subject needs to understand that the fear and pain can stop if he complies.
"Give me one location, and I will stop this!" Sounds of choking. "Give me one location, and I will stop this!"
After what seemed like an unusually long twenty seconds, they pulled the rag from his face. He vomited up water and coughed severely before breathing in deeply. While this was going on, McCormick refilled the bucket.
"Again!" Richard snapped
"No!" David was desperately trying to free himself.
"Give me one name, and I will stop this.
They pressed the rag back up against his face and continued to pour water.
"Wait! Hold up," Richard motioned for them to stop. "He's trying to say something."
"Spies." David was speaking softly.
Richard's blood turned to ice, and he did his utmost to keep his emotions under control
"What do you mean? Haddock has spies in our camp?"
David hung his head and drew in a ragged breath. He was beaten and bloodied, dehydrated and exhausted. With an exercise of will, he raised his head to look his tormentors in the eyes. He laughed spittle and shook his head.
"No, but you have spies in New York. We've found some of them."
Richard's mind was racing. The only spies who had direct knowledge of the inner workings of the army were scattered throughout the continent. The only spies in New York who had direct knowledge were even fewer. Dread began to coil and wrap itself around his spine and he worked to keep his emotions under wraps. The only spy with direct knowledge of Washington's camp and was located in New York, and was close enough to the Major was Astrid. It had been months since she submitted an intel report. He had quieted his anxiety by chalking the disruption up to increased security measures implemented by the Major, but could it be that the reports stopped because she was captured?
"Explain."
David laughed and spat a glob of blood at their feet.
"We placed the Loyalist Tavern under surveillance; we long suspected it was a hive of rebel activity."
With each word, the drumming in Richard's ears grew louder and louder.
"With such a large concentration of army officers eating, sleeping, and drinking there, it seemed a logical choice for a clever rebel spy to make a nest."
David broke off speaking as a series of coughs racked his body, and after a few more seconds of hacking, he again sucked in a deep, ragged breath.
"One day, we noticed a woman had been hired. A blonde little thing with an Irish accent. We observed her for more than a month, and then one day, we finally caught a break. She finally broke her pattern."
Richard was barely breathing now.
"We followed her into the woods hoping to discover her cutout, thus proving she was indeed a spy. But all she did was rage against a tree with an ax for an hour. After that, she went back to her place. "
Richard almost sighed with relief, but he cut off the noise and regained his composure before David could notice.
"We thought nothing more of her, until..."
His words trailed off as exhaustion began taking hold of him.
"Until? Until what David?" Richard grabbed his head and shook him vigorously.
Before David could speak, the door burst open with violence.
"Enough!" The voice cracked like a whip through the air. "Release him at once."
Richard looked at General Arnold in blatant surprise, mouth hanging open.
"Sir, what are you-,"
He broke off and tried again.
"Sir, please, we've almost-"
"Major Tallmadge, was the order unclear, or do you simply wish to be executed for insubordination."
Richard, Tallmadge, flinched, and stared at Arnold. He stared back at him.
"I asked you a question, Major."
Arnold's voice was glacially cold.
"No, sir."
Major Tallmadge motioned for David to be cut loose. Arnold stepped forward and appraised the situation; disgust etched on his face. With a shake of his head, he addressed the bruised officer.
"Lieutenant Bragg, you have my sincerest apologies for how you've been treated. Rest assured, your nightmare is over."