A month later...
It's been about a month since they were put in that forsaken chamber. Thankfully they let Ducky have it easy due to his old age, and instead he works as the camp doctor. The rest of them were thrown into some kind of metal box, pumping a constant gas into the room, making it extremely hard to breathe. It won't be able to kill them, but only cause mental panic and duress. Every day they bring one of us out and interrogate us for information. For some reason they don't use any physical torture such as beating, burning, or cutting them, but instead use psychological methods like water boarding or drowning to torture them.
Every day a small part of themselves is lost through the torture. Maybe that's what their goal is, to drive them insane, give them no will to live. Even though they've had very little progress in a month, they could be there for who knows how much longer they can survive the psychological duress.
"Good, good!" Martino urged as Tony caught another tennis ball. They've been training for a month and already the results are showing. Tony has become stronger, faster, and is quickly learning aspects of combat such as countering a punch and able to think ahead of your opponent. Right now he is trying to enhance his senses, reducing the need for sight and increasing his ability to smell, feel, and hear. He's wearing a blindfold and earplugs, and Martino is throwing tennis balls towards him from all different directions, making him not only catch them, but throw them back perfectly.
"Haha!" Tony exclaimed. Martino had been thinking whether or not to cover his face with a bandana just to wipe the smirk off his face. Martino threw one of the tennis balls his hardest at Tony's face, but much to his surprise Tony actually caught it. "You know, this reminds me of the movie 'The Karate Kid' where the master train-" Tony was cut off by a tennis ball to the face. "Never let your guard down." Martino chuckled as he went to go set up the mats for another sparring match. Tony grumbled to himself as he took off the blindfold and earplugs and followed him.
Thirty minutes later Tony was circling Martino who was wearing a blindfold and earplugs, tasked with the same challenge to land a punch. Tony was being more cautious this time, thinking of how Martino would counter him. Immediately he threw a jab at his face, causing Martino to grab it. Seeing his chance, Tony brought up his other arm to grab his and jumped towards him, bending it in an awkward position. In a matter of seconds, Tony had Martino to the ground and had landed a punch to his face. As he was about to take another, Martino bucked his hips, then using Tony's unbalanced weight to his advantage, forced his arms off the ground. Moments later, Martino had Tony in a sleeper hold. "Good job Tony, you actually landed a punch this time. But there is still much to learn, young padawan." Martino snickered as he released Tony. "Crazy ninja guy." Tony muttered as he went to get a drink of water. "You have no idea." Martino chuckled as he went to set up the firing range.
At the firing range...
"Alright Tony, same deal as yesterday. Shoot to kill, you only need one bullet to kill, so only use one." Martino instructed as he flicked a switch, releasing twelve pigeons into the air. Tony brought up his two Glock 23's and fired off six rounds from each without hesitation nor delay. Seconds later, twelve dead pigeons fell to the ground, a bullet hole between each of their eyes. "Did I do well." Tony joked as he reloaded his weapons. Chuckling, Martino released twelve more pigeons and took two of his own Glocks, closed his eyes, put the Glocks behind his back and fired eleven times. Another moment later, twelve dead pigeons fell to the ground. Tony had his mouth wide-open as he watched Martino shrug his shoulders as if it were nothing. "Now that's what I call two birds with one stone, Probie." Martino chuckled as he closed Tony's mouth. Tony growled as he walked back to the house to eat lunch, leaving a chuckling Martino to pick up the pigeons.
Journal Entry 34
I still cannot believe I'm writing these journals. Never once had I ever thought about keeping a diary or journal before, but Martino suggested I do so to help ease the stress and to keep logs of my progress. Surprisingly, it's working. This past month has been grueling on my mind, body, and soul, but I won't give up. I have to save them, my team, my family. I train not for my own benefit, but for them. I won't give up until every single one of them are out of that godforsaken camp. God knows what's happening to them there, and every day more guilt builds up inside of me. Martino says It's a good thing I wasn't captured, and I can't help but agree. That still doesn't help but make me feel that I haven't done enough, that they could have been saved. Martino is constantly pushing my patience, constraint, and discipline, making sure I just don't take off to try and save them. I am confident I have grown stronger, my abilities to fight have improved dramatically. But there's something Martino isn't telling me, and I get this nagging feeling that now matter how hard I train, Martino has this certain edge about him. Something about his fighting that cannot be attained through mere training. I have brought this up numerous times, but each time he just shrugs me off, telling me that in due time I will learn soon enough. I caught him one night in the kitchen, reading some kind of book, it looked ancient. But before I could get a good look at it, he just put it away.
I completely trust Martino, but I can't help but feel betrayed by the fact that he's withholding information from me. Does he not trust me? I'm starting to worry about them, Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Autopsy Gremlin, Ducky, Abbs, even Breena. I know Ziva and Gibbs will definitely be resilient if not immune to any interrogation they might use, but what about poor McGee? He's just a wee probie, or Ducky, he's so old and fragile. Martino tells me that only when I'm truly ready will he actually let me go, but I don't see what else he has to teach me. My senses are better, I'm faster, stronger, and my fighting is improving each day. I'm going to confront Martino about this tomorrow, ask him both what else he has to teach me, but also what he's hiding from me. I will get an answer tomorrow, no matter what the consequences may be.
Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr.