These next several chapters contain graphic images of Vaughn's torture. If you don't with to read about those topics, I would suggest not reading these next chapters.
Chapter 168: That Which Does Not Kill Us
"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will." – Mahatma Gandhi
"Never, never, never give up." – Winston Churchill
"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." – Eleanor Roosevelt
"To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage." – Lao-tse
"I stopped eating…Sloane had them start bringing food in again…I'm not sure why. He was quite satisfied that he broke me…I'm not sure what he had planned after…I mean, I was basically useless to them. I was so far gone…I didn't think it mattered. Sydney had been my reason for eating…my reason for trying to get through it, but with that gone…it didn't matter…I'd lost all hope…"
Flashback
Sloane was sitting at his desk in his office, talking to Irina when Thug #1 walked in.
"Yes Paul?" Sloane asked as he saw him enter the room.
"I'm sorry to interrupt Mr. Sloane…You instructed me to give the prisoner food and water yesterday and again this morning…"
"Yes, I did," Sloane said looking at him.
"When I went to the cell today, the food and water from yesterday was untouched…I don't think he's eating sir."
"Well…I'm not done with him yet…"
Irina turned to Sloane, "What more do you want from him? He cracked…he's useless…"
Sloane smiled, "Well…that may be true, but that doesn't mean he can't suffer more…Cracking is just one more step…now…now he'll believe anything I tell him…"
"Are you going to kill him?" Irina asked.
"Eventually," Sloane explained nonchalantly, "But, I have so many more plans…my ultimate goal would be to deliver him to Sydney…after he's dead…" he looked off, "Perhaps in parts…I could send a part a day…"
"Is that wise?"
"Do you have some attachment to Mr. Vaughn?"
"Of course not…I'm concerned that this vendetta will cloud your judgment and wind up getting us all killed…"
Sloane smiled, "Paul, if I want to toy with Mr. Vaughn more, he needs to eat…make him."
Irina piped up, "Let me…"
Sloane turned to look at her, "Why?"
"Because I will make him eat…and I can do it more effectively…more efficiently…he'll eat…" she said with a treacherous smile.
Sloane returned the smile, "Alright…this could be very interesting," he said. He turned to Paul, "Paul, take Irina to Mr. Vaughn's cell…"
Paul nodded and Irina followed him out.
On the way, Paul turned to look at Irina, "What are you going to do?"
"Make him eat of course…"
"How?"
"I have my ways…"
Paul was silent then and just directed her to the door. He opened it and turned on a single light that illuminated the cold darkness of the room.
"Just let me know when you're done…I'll open the door…"
She nodded and stepped inside, waiting until the heavy door closed before she made any movement.
Once the door was closed and she heard footsteps indicating that Paul had moved away, she surveyed the man in front of her. He lay motionless on his left side; his back to the door, his breathing shallow and labored, his back covered with angry red marks from all sorts of different torture methods. She could see dried and new blood on the floor; traces and splatters littering the hard cement. He was shaking slightly, she wasn't sure if it was from shock, fear, the cold or a combination of all three was probably the most likely. She found it odd that he was lying on his left side, because if memory served, that was the shoulder that was dislocated. She moved closer, seeing the food and water that was untouched as Paul had said.
She leaned down over him, checking to see if he was conscious. His eyes were closed and if she listened carefully he seemed to be mumbling, the words were unintelligible. She pressed two fingers along the side of his neck, checking his pulse, and his body jerked away from her contact.
"Shh…it's ok…" she said quietly.
He flinched again when she tried for the second time to check his pulse, but he didn't jerk away from her. His pulse was thready and erratic, his chest rising and falling in pain. She could tell by his breathing that he had internal injuries. She placed one hand on his neck and the other on his right shoulder and attempted to roll him on his back.
He yelped as she moved him, his tortured back hitting the cement. He pulled away from her, but it only caused him more pain.
"Just relax…let me check your wounds…then we'll make sure your back isn't on the floor…just a few minutes." She pressed a hand to his shoulder to indicate she wanted him to stay down. He whimpered softly, but stayed were he was, he didn't have the energy to move anymore.
Irina worked her way down his body, checking for injuries that wouldn't be outwardly seen. Once she completed her analysis, she moved back to him, and gently eased him up so that his head was resting on her thigh. He moaned softly for a while but then seemed to settle into the position.
"Michael," she said slowly, "I need you to listen to me…you're injured very badly…we need to get you out of here…I'm going to call Sydney…but you have to hang on…you have to eat something…because otherwise, she won't reach you in time…" she stopped, looking down at him, "Michael…do you understand?" she asked.
He seemed to register that someone was calling his name. He looked up at her.
"Michael?" she asked again. His left eye was swollen shut, but she managed to get him to look at her with his other one.
He smiled at her, which she thought was strange, but it was a good sign she supposed, "Michael…I'm going to help you eat, ok? You need to eat…"
His voice was raspy when he finally talked, "I'm sorry…"
She looked at him confused, "For what?"
"I love you…I'm not mad about Sark…I…I don't understand it, but I forgive you…not that…I just…" he trailed off.
Irina looked at him strangely, "What about Sark?"
"You and he…I hope he's stronger for you than I am…I'm sorry…I just…I can't anymore…I'm weak…I'm not strong enough…" small sobs began to emanate from him as he continued, "Sloane was right, I'm weak…I broke…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"
"Michael…what are you talking about?"
"Sydney, I'm so sorry…please forgive me for not being strong enough…I just want you to be safe…I never…I never meant to hurt you…"
"Michael…" she stopped, realizing that he thought she was Sydney; "Sydney loves you…"
"I love you…I'm sorry I let you down…I'm sorry I can't…I wish I could hold on…but why would you want…" he sobbed again and coughed, blood coming up with it.
She dabbed at his mouth, sitting him up slightly, so he wouldn't choke, "Michael…Sydney does not blame you…"
"You do…you will blame me, it's my fault…I just hope that I was there for you before…or after Sark…I…" he broke off again.
Irina sat dumbfounded. Vaughn was obviously delirious, the pain, the fatigue, the sleep deprivation, the malnourishment finally taking it's final toll. She needed to get him out of here…fast.
"Michael," she started, "Sark is not with Sydney…he has never been with Sydney…he may have a rather unhealthy obsession with her, but he knows that if he ever touched her, I'd kill him…"
"Sydney…please…just…leave me here, before they find you…I don't want them to hurt you…just go…"
"Michael, Sydney is not…" she stopped. Switching tactics was in order, "Michael, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere…you need to eat…will you eat for me?"
He didn't say anything, but he let her help him with the water. She put the glass to his parched and chapped lips and tried to get him to take a sip. Most of it wound up getting coughed back out, his throat rejecting the liquid after so many days without it. Eventually, she managed to get some down his throat, and he seemed to be swallowing better. She broke the bread into tiny pieces and soaked it in the water before giving it to him. He allowed her to do it for about half of the bread before he shook his head, mumbling that it was enough.
She didn't press, at least he got something, and any more and that might have come back up as well.
She sat with him for a while longer, just letting him rest, letting him relax.
Vaughn looked up at her every now and then, but he didn't say anything else.
Finally, Irina realized, she had to go, otherwise Sloane would get suspicious; "Michael…I have to go…"
"It's ok," he said oddly calmly. "I love you…"
"Michael," she said sternly, "DO NOT give up…do you here me? You wait for Sy– you wait for me to come back for you…"
"Mmm…you are everything to me…" he said, a small smile breaking through.
She swallowed; she had to say it to him. If he believed she was Sydney, she had to tell him, "I love you too…I have to go…you hang on…"
She eased him down which caused a cry of pain. She said softly, "Should I turn you?"
He nodded tiredly.
She gently eased him back to the position he was in when she found him, "Are you sure that doesn't hurt your shoulder more?"
"Nah…can't feel it anymore…" he stated.
She nodded resignedly, "Ok, you hang on…I'll be back for you…just a few more hours…just hang on a few more hours…Sydn–I love you Michael…please hold on for me…"
He made a small noise, she wasn't sure what she had told him had registered, but even if it had, there wasn't much time. The way he had been talking to her, it was like he was giving up, surrendered to his own demise, and that was something she couldn't allow to happen.
She stood and regarded his form before grabbing her cell phone and dialing it.
The phone rang, "Hello?"
"Hello, Sydney…" Irina said.
"MOM?" Sydney asked surprised.
"Sydney, you have to listen to me. If you want Vaughn back you must listen to me now, I don't have much time."
Sydney was silent for a moment and then replied, "How do I know this isn't a trick? How do I know you haven't all ready killed Vaughn and that this is a trap for me?"
Irina was silent a moment as well, looking down at the broken form of Sydney's lover on the cold, damp, cement floor, and then said in an even tone, "You don't…but you'll have to trust me if you want Vaughn alive. I told you Sydney; truth takes time. I meant that…"
"What does that mean? How am I ever supposed to trust you again? You've betrayed me more times than I can count, and that's just me. I mean–"
"Sydney!" Irina yelled, trying to keep her voice controlled, but not having time to argue with her daughter. "You must believe me. Do you want Vaughn or not?"
There was no moment of hesitation this time, "Yes."
"All right, here's what you do…Vaughn is being held in a warehouse just outside of Old Town Prague…Clementium is on Na Rybnicku Street, the warehouse is 47 blocks east of there. When you reach the warehouse, approach it from the southwest corner – that is the most vulnerable point. There's a door…there will be four guards…which is less than any other door. Once inside…you'll need to follow these exact instructions…because one wrong turn in these corridors, and you'll never find him in time. Straight ahead of you when you get in the door, you'll see another door, go through that door, then take a right down the hallway. About three meters down from that is another hallway, take a left, then one more right five meters away. This is the part of the warehouse where Vaughn is being held. He is in room 147. Follow the same route out when you have him. You'll encounter at least two guards at the first door and two in the hallway. There is one that guards the facility where Vaughn is held, but none outside his door. Do you have all of that?"
"Yes," Sydney said.
"Good…" She was about to hang up, but added, "And Sydney…"
"Yeah?"
"Hurry…" With that she hung up the phone, looked at Vaughn one more time and banged on the door for Paul. When he opened it, she handed him the empty glass and the half-eaten bread and he smiled at her accomplishment, risking a glance to the man on the floor.
As he walked with her back to Sloane's office, he asked, "How did you get him to do it?"
She smiled mischievously, "I have my ways…"
He smiled, completely oblivious to her actual 'way.'
End Flashback
