Step one: successful!
The cuffs were open and lay innocent next to Mac. Now being quiet and alert. He crept to the wooden door. Meanwhile Mac found out, that one of the Taliban who was responsible for the nightshift became careless and slept in person. Through the cracks that let some light into the little room the guard could look inside but just as well Mac could look outside. This night the guard also started his shift, brought something unidentifiable to eat for Mac and came back a quarter of an hour later to collect the tin plate. Later he controlled if Mac was asleep, then he sat down outside next to the door and slept a few minutes afterwards, like always.
In the nights before Mac got to know the mechanism of the door lock. It was as easy to open as his cuffs. The door didn't jar or squeak. Very beneficial!
The last days the Taliban took him very often out of his cell. They brought him into the room with the tile floor or in another one that looked like a lab. Mac saw that he was held in a compound that had an inner courtyard surrounded by buildings on all four sides. They all were single-story without any basement and the big entry was always open. Even though Mac didn't know anymore of the wider surroundings he guessed that this place was far away from any civilization. Wicked animals or dangerous people yes or no, he would try to flee! His kidnappers were much more dangerous than everything that could await him outside. At least he was sure of that.
By now he knew that he should build explosives for the group. Their own technician who made the complicated IED's was killed in a gunfight with soldiers. Since Mac defused the bombs Brown was sure he also could build them. Basically he was right, but Mac wasn't willing to do that. Not at all. Once when he listened and responded to build a bomb, he thought about doing it in a suicidal action to get rid of the whole group. Brown declared that only one man would stay with him until he finished the construction. Then he had to give the device to the man and only after that the rest of the Taliban would return. He knew Mac's plan. Mac denied building a bomb after that declaration. His refusal was punished with a hard beating. His abductors knew who to do that. They avoided fractures, but his whole body hurt.
Carefully he now looked through the cracks. The guard slept soundly. Determined he opened the lock and short after that also the door. He looked around. No one to see, everything was dark and quiet. Mac sneaked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Even the way was longer he stayed in the shadows of the buildings to reach the gate. Still no one there.
Step two: successful!
He scampered onto the road outside and found himself on paved road. The way led straight through a long gorge. The stars and the moon shone bright, no cloud darkened the nightly heaven. He could be detected very easy when he stayed on that road, but the flat stony surface on both sides didn't show any hidings as well. No bushes, trees or rocks. Mac thought about it. Should he try to climb up at the sides or the sheer rock walls behind the compound? No, that seemed to be too dangerous. So, he ran with the principle 'hope' as his basis. The hope normally dies last but for Mac it died very soon. Again he couldn't get even 100 miles between him and his former prison when the lights went on. Screaming, aggressive calls and one single shot that aimed exactly in front of his running feet.
Step three: failed!
Again!
Mac stood still he didn't have the power to go back by himself. It wasn't necessary, they came to catch him. Without resistance he followed his kidnappers. In the courtyard he saw Brown aiming with a gun at the head of the unobservant guard. Mac's energy came back instantly.
"Don't do that! Please! It was my fault, I tricked him, he didn't do anything wrong."
The leader of the group laughed derisively and shot.
"Don't worry, if you're so eager to take the fault for this incident on you, you should get your just deserts."
He simply nodded to his men. They knew what to do. Four of them grabbed Mac, ripped his shirt off, bound his hands very tight with a rope and pushed him into the direction of the room with the tiles. Mac's feet denied going farther. The room meant pain and he had enough of that.
But he stood no chance against four men, so they pulled and pushed him into the small room, turned his face to a wall and forced his hands above his head. They hinged the rope around his wrists on a hook. His feet barely touched the ground. Mac tried to look behind him, but what he had to endure next he knew without seeing it. The unmistakable sound of a whip cracking in the air told him, what punishment awaited him. Mac's heart started galloping and seemed to jump out of his ribcage, his eyes widened with fear and his hands were cold but sweating. He couldn't do anything against it.
When the first hit came down on his back, he flinched, but stayed quiet. He just exhaled loud, but didn't scream. The pain was surprising, suddenly and ran through his whole body like fire. Never before he felt something similar. Merciless the whip hit his back again and again. On different spots, nearly not two lashes on the same place. The men exactly knew how to do it. Mac didn't count the strokes, the pain was too intense. The exhaustion and tension of the last days overwhelmed him finally. After some more he couldn't control his feelings anymore. When the whip hit his back next time, he screamed. The men around him laughed, encouraged that they finally had forced a cry out of their victim.
When the torture was over, Mac only was half-conscious. Without resistance he was dragged back and thrown into his small cell. Unceremoniously they dropped him to the ground. Mac stayed there, panting. His back was on fire, but he felt that his skin broke only on a few small spots. Presumably it wouldn't even scar. They only wanted to punish him, not to break him completely. He should work for them, so he had to be able to do that. Never in his life, Mac thought that he would experience this method very well used by the Taliban by himself.
A silent cry shook his body. He couldn't give up! Although he had nearly no hope that his last unit would find him, he didn't want to be a traitor. He had to try the next escape attempt very soon. Maybe, hopefully they didn't expect that and maybe he could surprise them.