Family Care

By:AliasCWN

Chapter 5

Mark Hitchcock pulled at the ropes holding his wrists to the table. He'd already tried the ones holding his ankles numerous times to no avail. The knot on his right wrist gave just the tiniest bit and he concentrated on it desperately.

The German officer had ordered him locked in a cell when he first arrived and Hitch had hoped that the talk of interrogation had just been a ploy to frighten him. He hadn't liked the look in the officer's eyes when he talked about the previous prisoners. Hitch had taken the opportunity to get some much needed rest while he waited to see what would happen next. He had been awakened from his nap by voices outside the window to his cell.

The German officer was examining the horses he had taken from the dead Arabs. His men led them around in circles while the major watched them move. Occasionally he would have one of them stopped so that he could run his hands over its body. One by one the animals were led away, some in one direction and some in the other. The officer seemed to be very impressed with one in particular. Hitch watched him examine the horse inch by inch, paying particular attention to the feet. Each hoof was picked up and inspected as if it was something fragile. When he finished the major had the horse taken in a third direction.

It wasn't until he had sent the last horse on its way that he turned toward the window where Hitch stood watching. The officer smiled at the sight of the prisoner watching him. With an order to his men the officer stalked off toward the front of the building.

Hitch saw the smile and tried to cover his reaction. The look on the Major's face made him suddenly feel cold. He turned away from the window and sat down on his cot. The guards came for him a short time later. He heard them marching along the hall long before they reached him. The sharp tap of their feet in unison was like a nightmare come true. All of the times he had been captured it had never been a good sign when the commander demanded such rigid discipline. When they reached his cell they had been all business, quickly securing his hands and shoving him out into the hall. The march to the interrogation room was done in perfect precision. Hitch dragged his feet just for spite.

He suspected that the Major might have a cruel streak and the actions of the guards only enforced that theory. They continually looked around before daring to relax even a little bit. He already knew that he wasn't to be trusted after the incident with the Arabs. Many of the clerks they passed turned away and lowered their eyes rather than look at him as he was marched past. A few of them gave him sympathetic looks or looked uncomfortable as the guards rushed him along the hall. The guards bulled their way past anyone they met as if they were afraid to keep the Major waiting.

Hitch did a quick guess at the time. If he was right there was still several hours of daylight left. He knew he couldn't expect any help before dark, if then. He didn't even know if the others had been able to figure out what happened to him. The attack had been so unexpected that he hadn't had any time to try to warn the others. He had sensed a movement behind him and the world had gone dark. He woke up tied to the horse following the Arabs across the desert. He knew, given time, they would find him. He just didn't know if he could hold out until that time. He hoped that he would be able to endure whatever was to come until the others arrived.

The interrogation room looked similar to others he had seen. Like many of them it contained a single piece of furniture in the middle of the room. It was the choice of furniture that presented the main difference. Usually there would be a sturdy wooden chair where prisoners would be tied during the questioning. Once in a while there would be a hook in the ceiling where a prisoner could be suspended with his toes just touching the floor. But this room was slightly different. This room contained a heavy wooden table about eight feet long. There were ropes attached to each leg and arranged on the tabletop so that they were within easy reach. The table itself had only a few dark stains from the previous prisoners. Hitch assumed that some of them might have been wounded. The ropes, on the other hand, were stained dark with blood.

Hitch was escorted to the table and ordered to climb onto it. His guards crowded around and pushed him flat once he was seated. The rope binding his wrists was undone and each wrist was secured above his head with the ropes attached to the table. He was pulled down the table until his feet stuck out over the edge. He expected them to tie his ankles but they surprised him when they started to unlace his boots. He tried to resist but they held on. First one and then the other boot was removed and tossed into a pile in the corner. Only then did they secure his ankles to the table. The ropes were pulled tight and double checked. As soon as he was secured the guards hurried from the room, leaving him alone.

Hitch twisted his head to look around the room. He noted where his boots had landed so he could find them in a hurry if the chance arose. The pile of abandoned boots in different sizes was a mute reminder that he was not the first to be brought to this room. He shivered as he thought of the other prisoners leaving without their boots. The image of the Major inspecting the hooves of the favored horse filled his mind. There had been something very deliberate about the inspection of the feet.

A sergeant stepped into the room and regarded Hitch with hooded eyes. He made a careful inspection of the knots holding Hitch to the table. Satisfied that they would pass the Major's inspection, he stepped back to watch the prisoner. Looking toward the door, the sergeant moved closer to Hitch. Speaking in a soft, hesitant voice, he told him to keep his voice down.

Since he hadn't spoken Hitch was confused.

Keeping his voice low the sergeant leaned toward Hitch. "I would suggest that you tell the Major everything he wants to know."

Hitch shook his head no.

The sergeant sighed and glanced at the door again. "It is only a suggestion private, but take my advice, answer his questions. The Major has a very unpleasant way of convincing prisoners to talk."

"I can't do it." Hitch answered.

"Then prepare for the worst thing you can imagine and double it." The sergeant warned.

` "I guess I'll have to." Hitch answered. "Cause I can't tell him anything other than my name, rank and service number."

"You will tell him that," the sergeant answered, "and much more."

Hitch shook his head in denial but he was starting to have his doubts.

The sergeant looked at him with something like sympathy. "I wish you luck then, I have seen the others after the Major finished with them."

Hitch was about to answer when the sergeant stiffened and stepped away from him. Footsteps in the hall drew closer and paused in front of the door. Hitch tried to twist around to see who was coming.

"Is something wrong Sergeant?"

"No sir, I was just checking the ropes to make sure they were secure Major."

"Are they?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, then we can begin."

The Major stood just inside the door. In his right hand he held the leather riding crop he had been carrying earlier when he greeted the Arabs. As he stood and looked at Hitch he idly slapped the leather whip against the side of his leg. His eyes jumped from Hitch to the door. "Has the sergeant been telling you about my interrogation methods?"

The sergeant struggled to keep a straight face but the Major had eyes only for Hitch.

Hitch kept his mouth shut.

"No?" The Major smiled. "Then perhaps I should explain." The Major continued. "You see Private; I come from an old German family. We have been known for generations for our horses; we breed, train, and show them." He nodded toward the sergeant. "Ask the sergeant, he knows how I feel about the horses I keep."

"He spends countless hours training them to do whatever he asks of them." The sergeant confirmed. "In the end they always obey his every command, even the high spirited ones."

"I'm not a horse." Hitch responded.

"No, you are not." The Major agreed. "But I have discovered through repeated experimentation that the same methods work on humans. In the end, they all give me what I want." The Major glanced toward the pile of boots.

"I suggest that you give it some thought." The sergeant urged when the Major paused.

"Can't." Hitch answered.

"Sergeant, leave us." The Major ordered.

Looking relieved the sergeant hurried out the door and closed it behind him.

"Now it is just us." The Major observed. "Are you comfortable?" When Hitch didn't answer the officer shook his head. "I guess it doesn't matter, soon you will be in too much pain to be comfortable." The Major walked around the table and examined the knots on each wrist and ankle. "Very good, I think we are ready. Are you ready Private?" He smiled when Hitch didn't respond.

Slapping his leg with the riding crop, the officer walked to the foot of the table and stopped.itchHitch H

Hitch raised his head to keep an eye on him.

"As I said Private, I have discovered that some methods work as well on humans as they do on horses." He paused to study his prisoner. "Do you know one of the weakest points on a horse?"

Hitch shook his head, trying to keep the major talking and delay the inevitable.

"Their feet." The Major explained. "If something happens to their feet they are helpless. They can't move around. They can't run or protect themselves. If a horse's foot is badly damaged they will lie down to take the weight off of the other feet. Hurt all four of their feet and they just give up and die. Once they are down they lose the will to live."

"I don't have four feet and I'm not a horse." Hitch repeated.

"True." The officer agreed. "You aren't a horse, and it's also true that you don't have four feet. But the two feet you do have are important to your well-being, don't you agree?"

Hitch shifted uneasily as the officer bent for a closer look at his bare feet.

"As with a horse, you won't be able to walk, stand, or move around if something were to happen to your feet."

"But I won't lie down and die because of it." Hitch argued.

"Won't you?"

"No."

"I guess we shall see." The Major suggested. "Perhaps it is time we got started."

"No rush, I'm not in any hurry."

The Major laughed. "A sense of humor. I wonder how long that will last. This is going to hurt me worse than it does you Private, or maybe not."

"I'm guessing not." Hitch answered as he braced himself for what was to come.

The first hit sent pain all the way up his left leg. He bit his lip to keep from yelling. The coppery taste of blood flooded his taste buds. Before he could relax from the first strike the second one sent red hot arrows shooting up his right leg. One foot and then the other felt the bite of the crop rhythmically for the next ten minutes. Hitch was gasping for breath by the time the Major paused.

"How does that feel Private?"

"It tickles." Hitch managed to gasp.

The Major smiled. "Perhaps you would like a little more encouragement?"

"Is that what you call it?" Hitch asked in as normal a tone as he could manage.

"Of course." The Major answered. "I want something from you and you don't want to give it to me. In order to get you to cooperate I need to offer some encouragement."

"I could do without the encouragement. It won't work anyway." Hitch insisted.

"You are already struggling to breathe through the pain. Imagine what it will feel like after an hour of this, two hours, a day."

"No thanks." Hitch replied. He let his head drop to the table, too tired to hold it up any longer. His eyes slid shut as he involuntarily did what the Major suggested; he imagined the pain after an hour. It wasn't a pleasant thought. The pain was bad now; he couldn't picture it after a day.

"Tell me what I want to know." The German urged.

"No."

The Major nodded. "Very few of those that I have questioned have given in this soon. I had hoped that you would be one of those though. I really hoped to get a chance to try out that new horse today."

"Go ahead Major, maybe you'll fall off and break your neck, save us both a lot of trouble."

The Major responded by hitting the sole of Hitch's left foot again. The beating continued for the next three hours paused only when the Major stopped to ask questions or when Hitch passed out. His periods of unconsciousness were getting longer in duration and occurring more frequently. The pain had long ago covered his body in a fine sweat and as the sun set and the air cooled he began to shiver uncontrollably. His teeth chattered so hard that he could no longer repeat his name, rank, and service number in a manner that could be understood. Finally, after he had passed out for the third time in less than an hour, the Major decided to call it a night.

"That's enough for tonight Private." The Major told a totally exhausted Hitch. "I will have my men take you to your cell so that you can try to rest."

The prisoner groaned in relief.

"I know." The officer said in a soothing tone. "Rest will be hard to come by with these feet, but you must try. We will begin again tomorrow."

Hitch groaned again.

"I can't understand you Private; is there something you want to tell me?" The Major leaned closer so he could hear if Hitch spoke. Hitch turned his head away. The Major sighed, "You are a stubborn one. But don't worry Private, we have plenty of time and I will break you eventually." The officer shook his head sadly. "The trouble is, you usually have to break the stubborn ones, they just aren't trainable." The officer smiled. "Oh I know that some people say that isn't so but I have found it to be the truth in my experience. The problem is, once you break them you destroy their spirit, the very thing I most valued in the beginning. I've had to destroy more than one fine animal because its spirit was broken."

"I'm not an animal." Hitch managed.

"Ah, there it is, that proud spirit! You aren't broken in spirit yet, but there is still more to come. Give me time Private, I will break you yet."

Hitch closed his eyes and shut out whatever else the Major had to say.

A moment later he felt hands untying the ropes that held his wrists. He tried not to scream as they moved his feet to get to the knots. He cried out once before giving in to the darkness that rushed to meet him.