I have no recollection on how long my torture continued.

Periodically, Guest would stop the flogging and ask me the same simple question as to where the gold was hidden. When I shook my head, he would coolly order Tristan to carry on. Soon, through the fog of my pain, I was conscious of hearing Troy's screams, muffled by the wall that separated us.

Guest would leave and return later, apparently working both of us just as he had outlined.

I was practically hanging in the manacles when the flogging finally ended. The wall in front of me was splattered with my tissue and the metallic smell of my own blood was heavy in the air.

Guest ordered me to be unshackled and returned to the chair. They drug me across the room and propped me up, tightly retying me. It was only due to the bindings that I did not topple to the floor.

"Captain, we did not have a very productive afternoon," Guest said, sounding very disappointed. "I'm very clearly stating what I need, but you are not listening and responding appropriately. To say that you've let me down would be an understatement." Guest paused and put his hand under my chin, tilting my head up so that I was looking into his eyes.

I wondered if he was waiting for an apology. If so, he was going to be disappointed again. Even if I had been so inclined, I hardly had the strength to give one.

"Still nothing to say for yourself?" Guest let my head drop. "Unfortunately, it's almost sundown, and I need to focus on my nighttime operations which will begin shortly. But don't worry, Captain, I won't forget about you. I promise you that we'll take this up in the morning where we left off."

I had expected no less. Guest's words did allow me the ability to make a rough estimate on the time passage. I had now been held captive for almost a day. I would have been officially on leave since yesterday morning, due to return tomorrow afternoon. My absence would be clearly noted by tomorrow's nightfall. The key question was if anyone in the Afrika Korps would act on my disappearance.

My superiors and men would know it would be extremely out of character for me to return late. However, would they make a quick assumption that I had defected? Or, perhaps more likely that I had allowed myself to be captured by the Allies? In all the chaos, who could allow themselves to be overly concerned, with a missing Hauptmann? My unit frankly had more important issues with which to grapple, namely their imminent surrender.

"Captain," Guest asked. "You still with me?"

I moved my head just enough to indicate that I was still conscious.

"As I was saying, as much as I would love to trust you to spend a quiet night contemplating what's in store for you tomorrow, I can't take the chance to leave you to your own devices. I can't risk you escaping or making any noise that would interrupt the activities upstairs this evening.

"So as a special treat, I'm going to give you a little something to help you relax. It will take away the immediate pain of your back and assist you with sleeping. I believe you will find it most enjoyable. I've never known anyone to think otherwise."

I instantly became suspicious of Guest's solicitousness. He and I both knew that he cared nothing for my extreme pain. In fact, I knew that he was enjoying it.

"Tristan, once we are finished with the both of them, I want you to keep them locked in separate rooms down here. Troy can escape faster than Houdini from what I've heard. I don't want to take any chances with either of them."

"Yes, Mr. Guest," Tristan answered.

Guest continued on with his orders. "Retie the Captain's left arm so it is in position. And Cheri, darling? Bring me my personal kit, and no sampling of the candy inside, there's a good girl."

I didn't have the strength to oppose him, and Tristan quickly retied me.

Cheri soon brought Guest a small wooden box. He thanked her and then once again pulled his chair up beside of me, his "kit" resting on his lap.

When Guest opened the box, I could see that it contained several items that looked indeed as if they were from a doctor's kit. Despite myself, I wondered briefly if he had been serious about easing my pain. Then, realizing that the box contained something far different than laudanum or morphine, I quickly looked at him before looking down. I noted the position of my arm and as to why Tristan had re-tied it into the position that he had. I tried to pull away from him, but due to my bonds, I was unable to move far.

Guest removed a thin rubber strap from the box. Quickly and expertly he pulled it tight around my upper forearm.

"It should take me only a few minutes. You're young, strong and in good shape, with what appear to be virgin veins. Have you ever used heroin before, Captain?" His tone was casual, talking to me much as if we were in a café sharing coffee and a pastry.

"No," I said with true disgust. "I would never poison my body with such a drug!" Even though it was an open secret that Hermann Goring was a morphine addict, the thought of willingly taking illicit drugs was something that I would never consider acceptable. I had always held addicts in contempt. The thought of willingly taking illicit drugs, especially an opiate such as heroin, was repugnant to me.

Truth be told, the idea of all drugs turned my stomach. There had been rumors about German soldiers being given drugs to remove their fears and their fatigue in order to fight more viciously, but I had not seen any evidence of it in the units I had commanded, or in any of those near me. The thought of giving them drugs to make them better "warriors" was ludicrous, and in my opinion, more than a little desperate. Couldn't the idiots in charge realize drugs would only make the soldiers unpredictable and incapable of rationale thought? My soldiers were already superb warriors. They proved it every day by what they had accomplished with so little. It was an illustration that men needed leadership to motivate them to achieve, not drugs.

Guest tapped the crook of my arm. "Relax, Captain! You're as tight as Cheri was before the war." He laughed at his own joke until it became obvious from Cheri's scowl that she was not amused. "Ah, well, at any rate, you really should be more opened minded," countered Guest. "You may enjoy this more than you think. You ferociously dedicated men usually receive the most pleasure from opiates."

"I will not accept it willingly, Guest," I told him. I wanted nothing more than to escape my bonds and turn the needle that he was brandishing at me on himself.

"Maybe not now, but you'll change your mind once you experience it. Captain, please hear me out. Heroin will help you relax from all the intensity you have bottled up inside of you. The intensity which you have never been able to escape through combat or through women or with alcohol? This is the answer to that!"

I considered what he said. It was a truth and had been my reality since I had been a young man. It was also true that I had tried all avenues to relieve it, and all the ones that he had named. But yet, I had never been able to escape it. Now, at the word of a man that I considered for all intents and purposes to be an expert in the subject, here was the proposed cure. For a moment, I felt with sudden clarity that there might be some reasoning why men became addicted to drugs.

"You wouldn't even need as much heroin as I'm going to give you now for daily use. No, a smaller dose would do fine, just something to take the edge off a difficult day. And after all, an addiction is an addiction, Captain. I know that you're already addicted to nicotine."

"There is just a slight difference between cigarettes and heroin," I responded sarcastically.

"Is there?" Guest laughed at my ignorant denial. "I am sure that if offered you a cigarette right now, you would take it without hesitation."

I could feel my pulse increase slightly and my mouth start to tingle at the thought of smoking. I realized that Guest was quite correct, as much as it pained me to admit it.

"Everyone has their personal poison of choice. And when you can't admit that, when you make excuses for it, you're an addict." Guest was watching me with amusement. "Speaking of cigarettes, I found a lighter in your pocket. Beautiful piece of workmanship, not to mention valuable. Cheri begged me for it, but in the end, I have decided to keep it for myself." He looked at Cheri and then leaned in closer to me. "She would probably just sell it when she needed the cash. Not much appreciation for the finer things in life, that one," he whispered.

I looked at Cheri who either hadn't heard Guest's stage whisper or was beyond caring what he thought about her.

Guest was still interested in the lighter. "I have heard of soldiers taking things from the men that they've killed. A little souvenir from a vanquished English enemy, perhaps?"

"Hardly," I answered.

"Then how did you come into possession of it?" Guest took the lighter from his pocket and examined it. I glared at him, and my action was not lost on him. As if to irritate me, he snapped it open and lit it, before slowing closing it with a click. "I scarcely doubt Mr. James Lyon would just up and give it to you on the battlefield, one gentleman to another."

"It is of no concern of yours, Guest, but as a matter of fact, Sergeant Lyon did give it to me on the battlefield."

Guest raised his eyebrows. "My goodness, and I thought the days of a civilized war were over."

"Guest, I promise you," I told him calmly, "the lighter will once again be in my possession when I leave here."

"I don't think so, my good Captain. It now belongs to me and I'm right pleased to have it. Besides, you won't be leaving here in the foreseeable future."

Cheri cleared her throat, interrupting the conversation. When I looked at her I saw that she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other like an impatient child.

"May I have some now, Stuart?" asked Cheri, obviously fixated on the box that Guest still held on his lap.

"Not now, it's much too early for you, my dear. You have work to do tonight." Guest checked my vein again, tapping it lightly. "Very nice, almost where I want it. I want to do everything possible for you to have an easy and pleasurable first time experience, Captain. It's not often we have a virgin, is it, Cheri?"

Cheri didn't answer, her attention obviously still on the heroin that she couldn't have.

"You know, if I properly wanted to make you and Troy talk, I could make you both become heroin addicts. It's an ugly experience for someone to have to endure severe withdrawal symptoms. If only I had the time! But, as we only have a few days before the Afrika Korps collapses and the Allies find my gold, we don't." Guest looked at me with searching eyes. "You know, Captain, I really don't enjoy the torture."

"Really?" My stomach turned as I remembered the unconcealed pleasure in his voice as Tristan had started to beat me.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." Guest grinned. "But how I would absolutely enjoy the process of turning you into an addict. It would be a delicious experience for the both of us," he said, lightly licking his lips for emphasis. "After a few weeks of heavenly bliss, you would be unable to resist the deadly embrace of the drug." Guest's finger traced a light circle on my inner wrist. "You would do anything, and I do mean, anything for it. You would be like Cheri." Guest glanced over at the woman. "How did you become aware of the wonders of heroin, my dear?"

"I was a dancer in Paris, with the ballet. I found it helped me control any weight gain and take away the pain of dancing."

"Innocent enough, right? But now, Cheri will do anything for her next hit. Won't you?" Guest held up the needle and then laughed before snatching it away from Cheri's grabbing hand. "See, look at that! Desperate for it. You know, she loathes prostitution, but I wasn't going to just provide her unlimited drugs when I only occasionally took advantage of her body." Guest gave me a sidelong look and a wink. "Not that, she's not really my type, anyway."

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Guest what his type was. Then, I realized that I likely did not want to know. Instead, I looked again at Cheri. While her dress was hanging from her like a sack due to her extreme thinness, I could still picture a dancer's lithe body under it. Again, I felt pity for her. It was a shame for a woman with so much talent had ended up in Tunisia, selling her body to keep her demons at bay.

Cheri noticed my study of her. "Don't judge me, Boche. One doesn't know what one will do to survive. You were willing enough to buy time with me last night. I seriously doubt it would have been the first time you would have been with a woman such as me. I'm glad you passed out before you did anything. The thought of you being in my body fills me with disgust."

I looked away due to her crass words, and ultimately, the measure of truth that she spoke. I could see Tristan behind Guest preparing the drug for injection.

"She's right, Captain, you shouldn't judge her. You would be the same if you took heroin long enough. You would sell the body of your own mother for your next dose, never mind giving me the location of some hidden Nazi gold."

"There is no Nazi gold!" I nearly yelled.

Guest looked at me thoughtfully. "The gold isn't even yours so I don't understand why you're protecting it."

He leaned over and gently took my arm, checking the vein. His cologne overwhelmed me and I fought the urge to vomit.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have nice veins, Captain? Simply divine, so fresh, so untouched. It fills me with indescribable pleasure to think that I'll be the first to defile them. Don't be afraid. I've done so many injections that I'm an expert. I'll go slow and steady. And just for you, I'm using a new needle, nice and sharp, and sterile to boot. So no need to worry about anything." Guest caressed my inner arm with the alcohol swab, cleaning it.

"I'll be gentle. You'll feel nothing more than a little prick. And I promise, your arms won't look anything like Cheri's when I'm finished," Guest reassured me.

I couldn't stop myself from looking curiously at Cheri. I had noticed nothing odd about her arms and I wondered what the long sleeves of her dress were hiding.

Guest followed my gaze. "Have you never seen the arms of an addict, Captain?"

I shook my head. I had not.

"Darling, show him your arms."

Cheri slowly walked over and reluctantly exposed her arms. They were horrific, a mass of scars and open sores. Now, I understood why despite the heat she wore her sleeves long. It was an awful thing, and a small part of me went out to her, despite her role in my capture.

"The first time you have heroin is always the best. There's no breaking in period, nothing to get used to. Although, sadly, it's never quite as good afterwards. But that won't stop you from chasing that first high. The only negative is that you will probably be a bit nauseous the first time."

I looked at Guest quickly. His use of the word 'first' strongly implied I would be given the opiate more than once. The thought of that worried me. I would have no option or ability to escape if I was incapacitated continually with drugs. But then, I realized, that was likely part of his plan.

"Oh how I envy you! Do you remember your first time with a woman, Captain? How it changed your life? How amazing? How intense? Pleasure that one would could never replicate by any other method?"

I didn't answer Guest, though, of course I remembered my first time. Her name was Elsa and she was an Austrian acquaintance of my mother's. I was barely fifteen that hot summer when she arrived to visit, a visit that went longer than the weekend that she had originally scheduled.

Elsa seduced me one afternoon in the hayloft of the stables. Although, I remembered with a grin, it did not take much persuasion. Except for a few tentative kisses with girls my own age, I had never touched a girl, let alone have a mature woman offer sex.

My hands had fumbled when I had undressed Elsa. She was a handsome woman for her age, a few years older than my mother. I would always remember the beauty of her body as she lay against the hay. It was the first time I had seen a woman unclothed. In turn, it was also the first time I was seen nude by a woman. The experience with her, as brief as it was, was more pleasurable than I could possibly imagine. So pleasurable that it was almost painful.

I was with her several times over the next few years, experiencing her along with other various women I met. I visited her up until the time I was readying to depart for the Academy. It was then that I learned "estranged" and "divorced" had serious different meanings. I immediately severed the relationship with her, feeling betrayed and used. In hindsight, I realized that I had used her just as much, if not more, than she had used me, to learn about sex.

The realization of what sex with a woman could be had changed my life. I wanted to recapture that intensity again and again.

More times than I cared to recall, the desire to have a woman had become an almost single minded pursuit, derailing me to distraction. That pursuit had sometimes made me dangerous and reckless, far more so than I would have ever allowed myself to be in the pursuit of victory on the battlefield. And if I was perfectly frank with myself, sex had led me to where I sat now: Bleeding in front of Guest.

A thought formed, a realization which I had never had. Perhaps nicotine was not the only thing to which I was addicted.

"This will be better than sex," Guest said

I found his proclamation difficult to believe. I couldn't resist taking a jab at him. "Apparently, you must not have had much of a sex life, Guest."

"I have a wonderful sex life. With both men and women, thank you very much. Does that shock you, Captain?" Guest's eyes flicked to my bare chest and then up again. "I would be happy to tell you all about it, sometime. Perhaps show you?"

I could not hide my distaste and the faint blush that rose at Guest's words.

"No, then? You aren't shocked, Captain? A man of the world like you?" Guest laughed. "I forbid myself no pleasure in that arena and sample every delight. Regularly, I assure you. I would highly recommend the same approach to everyone."

I thought back to Guest caressing my face earlier that afternoon. Never mind the effects of the heroin, I thought, the idea of forced intimacy with Guest was more than enough to make me nauseous.

Still watching my face, Guest chuckled and touched my cheek again as if he could read my mind. "Don't worry, Captain. While it would be my delight to introduce you to yet another physical pleasure of a kind which you've never known, I won't take advantage of you in your weakened state. Even as much as I'm tempted by your dark good looks, your virtue is safe with me." Guest gave me a sly look. "Unless, of course, you were to ask me to take your virginity."

"And let me guess," I said, not able to stop myself before the words left my mouth, "just like with the heroin, all that I would feel in the process is a little prick?"

It took Guest a moment to process my insult. Instead of being angry, he laughed heartily. "Such a wit, you are Captain. You know, you just may be my type."

"I can assure you that you're not mine, Guest. I will never be even remotely interested," I said with disgust.

"You say that now, Captain. But the heroin will lower your inhibitions and open your mind. Eventually, you'll be willing to try or do anything," he said with a smile, his eyes lingering on my mouth. "Oh, how I look forward to that. Oh, how I really do."

I was looking forward to murdering Guest, I thought. Oh, how I really was.

"I'm giving you my best supply as a special treat," Guest continued. It's what I would use for myself. It's not the cheap trash that I sell upstairs to the locals and visiting soldiers. All you need to do is sit back, relax and enjoy. I will do all the work for you."

"I find you despicable, Guest. I look forward to killing you before I leave here."

The smile quickly faded from his eyes. "And I'm going to relish seeing you, a powerful and proud man, reduced to groveling before me. Begging me. If you haven't already realized it, you will not be leaving. I will be the one having the pleasure of killing you and Sergeant Troy. But only after I've finished enjoying myself with you."

"Mark my words, Guest. I am telling you that when I leave here, I will leave you dead. I am a man who stands behind my word. Now get on with it."

As Tristan handed Guest the syringe, I knew my eyes showed the cold fury I felt within. I locked eyes with Guest. He almost immediately looked away and turned his attention to my arm.

Guest gently grasped my forearm. So well had he prepared me, I barely felt the prick of the needle as it slid into the vein. I couldn't prevent myself from looking down to watch if only for a brief moment as Guest debauched me.

He was expertly holding the syringe at a slight angle, barely touching my arm. Only a slight drop of blood rose up on my skin where it was penetrated. There would only be a faint, if any, mark left when he was finished. No one would be any the wiser at what had happened that night but those who had witnessed it.

Contents expelled of the syringe, Guest removed it and gently wiped away the dot of blood that had risen with a clean cloth.

I felt the slow and gentle flush of fluid as it entered the vein, but nothing else. I waited for the feelings that Guest had described to come. Just as I had concluded that either he had been lying to me or that I was immune due to my superior will power, suddenly, I felt it. Like waves crashing through a barrier, the unexpected rush of euphoria and pleasure coursed through me.

My arms and legs began to feel heavy as the seconds (or was it minutes, or possibly even hours?) passed. I began to feel very drowsy, my head so heavy I could barely hold it up. Yet, I had no desire to sleep. To sleep would mean missing the incredible sensation I was experiencing for the first time.

Suddenly, a feeling of nausea rose up within me, derailing the culmination of my pleasure. Guest was already waiting with a bucket, into which I vomited what little I had remaining in my stomach. He took the cloth and lightly wiped my mouth, cupping my chin briefly for a moment. He leaned down, his breath warm on my face.

For a brief second I thought he was going to kiss me. I was too focused on the delicious feeling that was once again spreading through my body to even want to pull away. He eventually released me.

From what seemed a far distance, I could hear Guest order his men to untie me and remove me to a different room.

Unbound, I attempted to walk, but my legs had become leaden and it was too difficult for me to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Tristan and Nassir supported me as I staggered along, to what I assumed would be my cell for the evening. When they released me, I was vaguely aware of collapsing onto my back. I knew that I should be screaming in agony as my ravaged flesh made contact with the hard surface, but I felt nothing but the effects of the heroin.

I stared up at the ceiling, the room dimming around me. I cared about nothing in the least. For the first time in four years I felt liberated. I had finally escaped the war and all of its obligations. I had no fear of being killed, no thought of killing the enemy. There was no need to protect my men from imminent death or to will myself to follow irrelevant orders. I casually placed Germany aside along with my officer's oath and everything which accompanied it.

Though I was physically being held prisoner, ironically, I felt free for the first time in my life. I could not care about my family nor their fates. I was not troubled with concerns for my men, nor what would become of Germany after the war, not about my controlling father and his demands and expectations and certainly, I could not care about what mayhem the devilish Rat Patrol was going to cause next.

I put aside thinking of all others. For once, they could all take care of themselves, without me. I was too busy enjoying the heavenly feeling coursing through my body.

Anything could have been done to me and I would not have protested. My pride was gone, as was apparently everything with it that had made me the man that I was.

When I realized that, I had no problem admitting that Guest was correct.

The heroin was better than sex. Even better than the sex that I had enjoyed with Irene during our final night together.