Chapter 6
Decker positioned himself in front of Crane, dragging the cat o' nine tails over Lee's naked chest.
"Many people confuse the 'cat' with a Roman scourge or flagrum. I prefer this beauty, it inflicts a significant amount of pain, but it doesn't cut through to the bone quite so quickly. All that blood loss is counterproductive to questioning. Can't get any information off a dead person, now can I, Lee?"
Lee didn't answer, steeling himself for what was to come.
A deranged laugh escaped from Decker. "What's the matter, Commander, cat got your tongue?"
The sadist moved the whip lovingly across Lee's face with a sickening grin.
"I should show you some delightful photos I have of a beautiful, excuse me, a formerly beautiful woman who betrayed me. Boy, the cat really tears through tender flesh. Pity she lost her sight, but then again, she no longer can look into the mirror at her mutilated face. Oh, the exquisite joy each lash brought me."
The excited gleam in Decker's eyes was nauseating.
The man is almost drooling, what have I gotten myself into this time? Please God, give me the strength to hold on. And I wouldn't mind if You gave Admiral Nelson a guiding hand in finding me.
"Decisions, decisions, where shall I start?" Decker turned his back on Lee retreating a few steps to finish off a glass of iced tea. With lightning speed he then lunged forward and struck, causing Crane to yell out in pain as the handle came crashing down on his already throbbing shoulder. Decker had shifted his grip on the cat o 'nine tails while he finished his drink. The pain was bad, but Lee was sure a lash of the whip would have been far worse.
"I find the cat has its place but I don't believe it would work very well on you. I have something special planned, I'm sure you will enjoy it, Lee."
The two fat guards had returned and waited patiently by the door for their orders. Each had a stupid grin on his face. Right then Lee nicknamed them Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Decker motioned them forward.
"I believe our guest still looks overdressed, please take care of it. Then place him on the chair."
The guards removed the ankle chains and yanked off Lee's shoes and socks, then unbuckled the belt in preparation for the removal of the pants.
"Let him keep the shorts, after all, Lee is an officer and a gentleman. My, my I thought you would have been a boxer man," Decker taunted as the men carried out their orders.
Soon Crane had exchanged one confining position for another. Metal bands bit into flesh as his ankles and wrists were secured to the chair. A wide thick leather band held him around the chest. The worst was the thin cord that surrounded his neck, ready to choke him if Lee moved his head forward more than an inch or two. This isn't looking good, Crane. You really stepped into it this time. Lee worried about the metal helmet, still positioned above his head. It brought a flood of memories of the brainwashing he received that resulted in an unsuccessful attempt to kill Nelson. What did the maniac Decker have in store for him?
Decker hummed as he placed the rubber tubing around Lee's left arm to bring up a vein, an IV standing at the ready. With professional care, Decker got it started.
"Sorry I had to poke you twice; it seems you're a bit dehydrated. If you're wondering about the IV, I found in the past the drug in the smaller pouch you are now receiving would burn the vein and destroy it, causing intolerable pain. Now, I don't mind that at all, but my subject would pass out before the drug could prepare him. Mixed into and diluted by the saline solution, it takes a little longer to be successful, but gives us time to have a little fun.
"A colleague of mine developed a marvelous compound. It has such a long scientific name I just call it the FW compound. I'm sure you will appreciate it. It's wonderful, only takes a minute amount to be effective. Let me demonstrate."
He produced a small vial from the metal cart, containing a liquid whose viscosity resembled motor oil. Having previously put on latex gloves, Decker removed the stopper and almost lovingly poured a thin line of the dark substance on Lee's right thigh.
Lee was shocked by how cold it felt as it touched his skin, but seconds later, it started to heat up. It wasn't even a full minute before the affected area felt as if it was on fire and the feeling spread over the entire leg. The intensity of pain increased as the burning sensation traveled deeper into the limb. The agony was unbearable and Lee was unable to stifle his moaning. The leg began to shake as the inferno continued its path through the thigh, without the pain letting up.
He pulled at the restraints, trying anything to stop the burning feeling. As he pushed forward in a futile attempt to escape, the thin cord around his neck began to strangle him. It forced Crane to lean back even as he continued his attempt to break away from his bonds. The moans grew louder as he gasped for air, the ferocious pain making it hard to breathe. It felt as if the leg was being shoved into a roaring blaze and held there. He fell forward in a vain attempt to escape. His vision was beginning to gray as the cord continued to choke him. Lee knew he soon would pass out if he didn't pull back, but at least that would stop him having to endure this agony.
Suddenly another liquid drenched the flesh and the torment was over. Peering at his thigh, he saw only a thin red line. There was no blistering, no flesh peeling away from the bone, the evidence of a third or fourth degree burn. The appendage still shook as the nerves sought to recover, but there was now only a mild feeling of discomfort.
"Just so you know, Commander, this little experiment lasted precisely three minutes. Imagine what you would have experienced at ten minutes, thirty minutes. Oh, and if you think fainting like a little girl will help you, I have an arsenal of stimulants to bring you back to consciousness. The only way to stop the burning is with the antidote I used. The trembling will subside soon and the redness should disappear quickly. There is no permanent harm at first, but you should know as I continue, each application will lead to nerve impairment. Can you imagine not being even able to feed yourself because your hands shake so badly from your destroyed nerves? Someone would have to dress you and take care of you like a little baby."
"I'm not telling you anything, no matter what you do to me," Lee bluffed, trying not to tremble at that idea. For the first time he was afraid of being unable to withstand the torture.
Decker laughed maniacally. "Brave words, but a waste of your breath. You'll give me what I want from you."
But I've got a little secret. I don't give a damn if you do talk. That would just be icing on the cake. You interfered with two of my capers and cost millions of dollars and almost wrecked my reputation. Now, I'm getting my revenge. It'd be so easy to kill you but I want you to suffer. By the time we're done, you are going to wish you were dead.
Decker turned away, hiding the smile on his face.
All during Lee's ordeal the drug continued to drip from the IV, working its way into his system. Now that the horrific pain was gone, he began to feel the effects. He was becoming disorientated, his face had a dazed expression; the drug's hypnotic qualities had begun its job.
Decker increased the amount of the drug being mixed into the saline solution then walked away to instruct the guards. While they adjusted the metal device on Lee's head, Decker spoke to the technician, who had been standing silently by the door, to ensure everything was ready. He was pleased with the rapid job the two men had done with the video and pictures received from Santa Barbara. He would start with the audio, the helmet had excellent speakers built in it.
"Lee, you think a great deal about your crew, don't you?" Decker's tone was tender and soft, just one friend to another.
He wanted to keep silent, but found it hard to resist. "They're the best."
"They care about you, they respect you, is that what you mean?"
"Yes. And I feel the same way about them." Don't say anything, be careful, it's some sort of trick. I can't let him know how much I admire my crew.
"Are you sure that's how they really feel?"
"Of course, they're the best I ever had." Shut up, keep your mouth closed, don't give him anything to work with.
Decker again increased the flow from the IV. "Maybe you should hear what they are saying about you behind your back. Relax and listen."
He made a motion towards the technician. The tech punched a couple of keys and voices started coming through the speakers.
"What a jerk, trying to be my buddy! Like to punch him in the face." It was Kowalski.
"Thinks he's so great. Someone needs to be taken down a peg or two."That was Riley.
There was a sneering sound, and Lee recognized O'Brien's voice, the words scornful. "What a show off, don't know how the admiral puts up with him."
One after the other, members of the crew voiced thoughts he would never have expected to hear. Next to speak was Sharkey, expressing the opinion that Lee was "always thinking about himself," and that he, Sharkey, couldn't stand to be around him. Sparks was glad the skipper wasn't around; Maxwell thought he was sneaky and underhanded, and not to be trusted. Worse still was Will Jamison: "Comes back hurt, and wants attention. I could enjoy myself if he would stay away." This was followed by something that sent a chill through his heart: "Hope he never comes back. It would put us out of our misery if somebody killed him." That came from easy-going, happy, Patterson, everybody's friend. But the words that blazed through his brain were next: "It was a big mistake having him as captain." Admiral Nelson's voice. Quiet, calm. Condemning.
"So what do you think now, Lee? How can you trust what they say to you, when you know how they really feel?"
Don't believe him, Decker's the enemy. "No, it's a trick. My men would never say those things."
Decker signaled the technician again. He slightly increased the volume and replayed the clip.
"It's no trick; you can't help but recognize the voices! They've been playing you for a fool. Even Admiral Nelson, the man you think of as a father, doesn't want you around."
The drug flowing through his body was making it hard to resist Decker's words. Lee barely felt the needle entering the vein and the cannula being taped tightly to his other arm. Once more he heard the hurtful words from the men he trusted and called his friends.
After the clip was finished, Decker was ready.
"Their own words betray them. You can no longer trust these men. Who knows what they will do. I would be very afraid of what they'd do to you."
Lies, this has to be lies. "No, they are loyal to me. We've been through too much together."
"Loyal? I don't think so. They know where you are. That's why it was so easy to capture you. They betrayed you. They don't want you back on the boat. In fact, I just spoke to Admiral Nelson. He wanted me to do this."
"I don't believe you. It isn't true!" He was saying the words, but already there was not much conviction behind them, nothing to contradict the evil that Decker was spouting. The drug was effectively opening Lee's mind to his captor's devious words.
Decker once more donned the latex gloves and picked up the vial filled with the FW compound, pouring a zigzag line on Lee's right thigh, this time allowing more of the oil to spill onto the skin. Within seconds the painful burning started, worse this time due to the increased amount. It didn't take long for Lee to start jerking in the chair in a futile attempt to escape the unrelenting fire spreading throughout the leg.
At Decker's nod, the man at the computer again keyed up the audio, this time with just a few comments.
"Someone needs to take him down a peg or two. If we're lucky, he'll never come back." And again, the most distressing of all: "It was a big mistake having him as captain."
Even though his head was held in place, Lee was able to look down at the thigh expecting to see it engulfed in flames. His entire leg shook as the nerves reacted to the compound. No words were strong enough to describe the agony he was experiencing. Lee's breath came in short gasps as tears fell down his cheeks. He began to black out, grateful for the relief unconsciousness would bring. Just as his eyes started to close, Decker injected a strong stimulant into the prepared cannula on the right arm. He cried out as the drug immediately took effect, preventing that avenue of escape.
Lee withstood the agony as long as possible.
"Stop it, just make it stop!"
"Your crew wanted you to suffer, but I'll take care of you." Decker applied the cooling antidote, releasing Lee from his agonizing torment. "You can trust me. You may rest now. The guards will take you back to the cell. Someone will bring you food in a while, I'm afraid you couldn't handle anything in your stomach just yet."
Decker's personality had done a total switch; becoming concerned and almost tender. He disconnected the IV as Tweedledee and Tweedledum released Crane.
"Careful when you stand up, Lee, your leg will be weak. And I'm sorry but your left arm will probably bother you for several hours. There will be a burning feeling from the drug. I'm afraid it will cause you some discomfort. You must have treated the crew very harshly for them to hate you so much."
It was difficult but Lee managed to stand under his own power but needed assistance to walk. Between the lack of sleep, the beating and the two sessions with Decker, he felt drained of energy. The only thing keeping Lee conscious was the amphetamine.
The man sitting by the key board looked confused as Lee leaned heavily on the guard at his right side, almost dragging the leg as he left the room.
"Sir, his leg shouldn't be any weaker than the left, unless I'm unaware of an injury?"
"Power of suggestion is a wonderful thing. Just a couple hours with the drug and already it has the man susceptible to my words. It should be interesting watching the surveillance in the cell to see if Crane has any imaginary pain in his left arm."
"You told him how caustic the drug in the IV was."
"Mind games - the worse it would do is make you feel a little warm at first. The drug causes the brain to become pliable, suggestible. With its help, I'll become someone he trusts, so I'm letting him sleep and eat. Meanwhile he will replay what he heard today, laying the seeds of mistrust. With a couple well-chosen words and phrases, the brave captain of Seaview is going to be turned into a babbling coward petrified of his own shadow. Boris's three-year-old son is less afraid of the bogeyman hiding in his closet at night then Crane will be when I'm finished with him. The conditioning will leave Lee terrified of anyone around him, sure that they mean to inflict an agonizing and prolonged method of death upon him.
"You heard me also telling Crane about the debilitating effects of the compound if subject to prolonged usage, it was another lie for him to deal with. There are no lasting effects, only a few moments of mild spasms. Can you imagine what he's thinking, not knowing how much or how many times I'll use the compound on him? Wondering what will happen to him as his strong physique breaks down, robbing him of any independence.The thought of that is priceless, I don't have to mutilate his body for revenge, and his mind will do it for me. "
"Are you going to have another crack at him tonight? Boris is still working on more audio, and I've got some video ready but I need more time to finish it. That Tompkins guy did a great job with the camcorder. He even pretended to be a reporter and interviewed several people about working on Seaview and at the Institute. Lots of material to work with, and Boris is a talented mimic who can fill in a missing word or two. "
"If all goes as planned, Alex, the two of you can return to Russia by the end of the week. I'll be off to India when this is over, and my dear uncle can resume playing master of the castle once more. Our guest will not be disturbed any further today. He needs to consider what he has heard, starting the doubting process. Tomorrow we'll have three sessions, so make sure the video is ready. You know how I want it set up."
"Yes, sir, it will be ready."
Three hours later, Lee was brought some food, a bowl of thick soup and a hunk of crusty bread, with an apple and glass of milk. At first he was suspicious, worried it could be drugged. In his muddled state it was hard to think clearly, but he was able to reason out Decker would have no need to be sneaky when Lee was at his mercy. Having been without nourishment for nearly two days, he tore into the meal with relish. A glass of milk never tasted so good. He tried not to gulp it down. The juiciness of the apple also help quench his thirst. He scraped the last bit of soup out of the bowl with the bread and settled back on a straw mattress trying to get comfortable because of his ribs. His arm burned, but it was a controllable discomfort if he kept his mind occupied with other thoughts. Lee wasn't so wired since the stimulant was beginning to wear off, and having food in the stomach also helped clear his head.
He thought about all he heard today. It had to be a trick. He couldn't believe what Kowalski had said about him; hadn't they got past their confrontational first meeting? Was he still holding a grudge? And O'Brien; Lee had treated Frank, maybe not as a younger brother, but as a friend who he encouraged and guided on his path to promotion. Did Frank really see him as conceited? Sharkey had always been the admiral's man, but hearing Francis say he couldn't stand him hurt. The Chief did get overly enthusiastic with his suggestions at times and as captain, Lee often had to reel him in. But these were command decisions; there had never been anything personal about the rebukes.
The most troublesome remark was Admiral Nelson's. It was unbelievable he would utter those sentiments. The admiral was a second father to Lee, having a guiding hand in Lee's life since the sixth grade. Nelson had told him Seaview was his, the only man he ever had wanted to command her. It was unimaginable that his 'dad' would want to take the boat away from him.
Decker was playing with him, trying to manipulate him, attempting to get Lee to reveal some secrets. He had the bruises from the beatings to prove it. But why had he stopped questioning him?
No, I won't believe it. All this can't be true. He's playing with my mind, trying to break me. I've got to remain strong.
The heavy cell door was unlocked and Tweedledum came in to remove the food tray. He first tossed a quart bottle of water to Lee.
"The boss said to give you this and let you sleep."
Lee caught the bottle with both hands and placed it next to him. He rubbed the left arm, trying to relieve the burning pain the sudden motion caused. The guard picked up the dishes then left, grinning when he saw what the prisoner was doing. Lee waited until he was alone. He opened the container and took several large swallows. He was more confused than ever. Why would he get the extra liquid? The saline solution the IV was enough to avoid the dangers of dehydration. This present was for his comfort.
Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, he tore off a corner of his well-worn blanket and poured some of the precious liquid into the piece of material. Lee wiped dry sweat from his face and neck, leaning back against the wall enjoying even this little bit of comfort, wishing he could wash the rest of his body. But it was insane to waste the limited resources. Crane wet the cloth and placed it on his aching arm and held it in place, then re-wet the blanket piece once more and put it a little lower on the forearm hoping to relieve the rest of the burning sensation. Lee had a few more sips then tightly closed the lid, firmly holding it to his chest as he lay down to rest. Sleep would stop the disquieting thoughts running through his head. He would be stronger, more rational tomorrow and be able to make more sense of it all.
It took a long while before Admiral Nelson's voice and hard to accept words left his mind and then the nightmare started.
There was a hooded person using the cat o' nine tails on Lee and somewhere in the back, voices encouraging the man to hit harder. That faded away to him being tied to a spit, slowly roasting over a roaring fire, while several crewmembers cooked hot dogs on sticks.
Lee jerked awake pleading with his men for help. With shaky hands, he drank water and tried to calm his pounding heart. It must be night for the cell was almost in complete darkness. There was only a beam of light coming through the slot at the bottom of the door where a tray of food could be passed. The light helped chase the monsters away as Lee tried to shake the nightmare from his thoughts. He pulled the thread worn blanket tightly around him, trying to ward off the damp chill from the stone walls.
Too bad I don't have that campfire to warm this cell, just don't want to be hogtied above it. Come on, Crane, you've endured tougher places than this; at least you are dry and safe from animals, at least the four-legged kind.
Lee took a final swig and laid down trying to fall back to sleep. His eyelids soon drooped and his breathing slowed as he drifted off.
The second dream brought him abruptly awake. He was in the middle of a crowd being shoved from person to person as they berated him. Lee could only partially remember all that was said. Patterson's words, that quiet and easy-going man, came first. "Put us out of our misery if somebody would kill him." How could Pat want him dead? He always had a smile for the captain when they passed each other in the corridor on Seaview. And Lee could not erase the admiral's words as he roughly pushed him away. "It was a big mistake having him as captain." That had to be a lie; the two men had forged a relationship stronger than friendship. Nelson wanted him on Seaview, didn't he?
Lee had no way to figure the time or how close it was to morning and the next session with Decker. He weighed the water bottle with his hand, estimating about a cup left. He was torn. Should he finish it or save the rest for tomorrow, not knowing if it would still be in the cell when he returned? He guessed there was perhaps two hours left before the torture would begin again. Making up his mind, Lee drank half the remaining contents; he would empty the bottle at first sound of the guards coming for him. He settled back on the straw, grasping the bottle to his chest. It was a small thing, but something Lee could control. He was the captain of the water bottle and he had made his decision. Nelson couldn't take this command away from him.