CHAPTER SEVEN: Wednesday, January 9, 2013, 11:16 a.m.
When John later awoke, he had no idea how much time had passed. His head was aching and throbbing, and his side burned. The smell of the freshly baked bread enveloped him, piercing through his nostrils as he awoke. He knew he must be back at the deli. His mouth was gagged, a blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes, and both of his arms and wrists were tightly tied to the arms of the chair by what felt like a rough, natural fiber rope.
Viktor Durchenko, who had taken over for his brother and cousin, saw John beginning to stir. He was the oldest of the three Durchenko brothers. He was also the biggest and without much of a conscience. "That will be the last time I let you sleep," he said.
John instinctively turned toward his voice even though he couldn't see anything because of the blindfold. He recognized that this voice was different than Anton's. John surmised that he must be one of the Russian brothers.
"Why did you go to the deli yesterday? Viktor asked, pulling the gag out of John's mouth.
"The sandwiches," John laughed at the obviousness of the question. Sometimes his sarcasm came out much too quickly.
Viktor punched John in his stomach. "Let me rephrase. Who are you working for? What do you want?"
John gasped for air. As he pushed against the restraints, he could feel the blood on his face from his head wounds. They hurt but were tolerable. In his past, he had endured much more than this. "Take off this blindfold so I can see who's hitting me," John said. He heard nothing in response. There was no noise at all. He wondered if the Russian had left when he was trying to catch his breath. He knew he had to wriggle free of the ropes if he hoped to get out of this situation, but he was going to be cautious in case they were watching him. He really needed to get the blindfold off.
Sometime later, John heard a cell phone ring.
"Hello," the Russian voice said. It was yet another different voice, so John surmised that it was the third brother, Boris. He was just a short distance away.
John was surprised he was in the room. He could usually feel other people's presences. But right now he felt nothing.
"Yes," Boris said.
Okay, John thought, this one wasn't the boss. The boss must be calling in the orders.
John continued to sit. "So, what did the boss say?" he finally asked.
"He said to torture you until you disclosed who you were working for and what you wanted," Boris answered.
"I was just visiting an old friend of mine, Miss Ester. She used to make me special sandwiches. I just got back in town, so I wanted to visit her again. You all are making a lot more out of this than necessary," he said. Then he felt the blindfold being ripped off his face.
"So, why does a man who is visiting an old lady in a home feel the need to wear an ear piece with a tracking device?" Boris asked.
John was surprised that the Russian had found his earpiece in his jacket pocket. Pushing his ankle against his boot, John was relieved that the syringe was still tucked in there. "That's just my cell phone," John answered. "I was forever losing my phones, so the wife made me start wearing an ear piece. She's the untrusting type, so she likes the GPS to be able to know where I am," John tried his best at making an innocent face as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Try again, Mr. Reese," Boris said. "Ah, yes, he said to be careful."
John stopped talking. The Russian had apparently heard Finch on the other end when he found the earpiece.
"Don't worry, we stomped it and disposed of it properly. We certainly don't want more people joining us until we know exactly who you are working for," Boris said.
John didn't answer. He knew another lie would only worsen the situation.
John thought that if he could get the Russian closer, then maybe he could head-butt him. But he knew he needed to get free of the restraints first. At least without the blindfold the playing field was beginning to get a little bit more even. Now he could see what was available in his surroundings to help him with his escape. The rope was thick but could be worn away against an edge. This would just take time, he thought, but he wasn't sure how much time they would play with him before they decided to just kill him.
Hours passed, and there was no conversation between him and Boris. Then he heard someone entering the room. It was Viktor again. The two brothers began talking in their native language. Then Boris left, leaving Viktor to stay with John. "So, what's next?" John asked.
Viktor gave no response. He began taking things out of his pocket and placing them strategically on a table for John to see. He had brought all sorts of instruments of torture. This made John pick up his speed trying to inconspicuously fray the rope.
Then Viktor began eating a sandwich and drinking a beverage as he stared at John. John recognized the white bag with the red cursive D.
John felt hungry but was slightly troubled because he knew they weren't going to give him any water. This was a classic approach to breaking someone. Hunger passes, but dehydration wreaks havoc on the body. Viktor approached him. He held a large knife in his hands as he walked behind John.
"And so, Mr. Reese. You believe you are strong. I suspect you are from the looks of you," Viktor said as he looked John up and down. He continued to pace around John in a circle. "Just so we are clear with one another, we suspect you are working for the cartel. If that's the case, then you're worth more to us alive than dead. However, it angers us that you would have the audacity to go to the old lady. We won't kill you, but what we will do to you will certainly make you wish we would go ahead and end your miserable life."
John knew he had been in worse situations and had escaped, so at this point, Viktor was more of an aggravation to him than anything else. "So, what's your play, Viktor?" John asked, stressing his name so Viktor would know that John knew.
John's lack of respect for him angered Viktor. He walked agitatedly over to the table and picked up a cross-peen hammer. Pausing to inhale deeply and apparently level his emotions, Viktor then came back to John.
John thought to himself that this didn't look good.
Viktor grabbed John's left index finger and pulled it straight against the arm of the chair.
John tried recoiling his fingers into a fist, but Viktor pushed down on the back of his hand. This pressure forced his fingers to flex out straight. In an instant, John felt the pain of the impact of the hammer hitting his index finger.
"I want to be clear with you, Mr. Reese. I am the only one in this relationship who gets to ask questions," he said as he paused to look at John's face. It seemed to please Viktor that he had just caused John some pain. "You are expected to answer my questions, or more of the same will occur."
"I am not afraid of pain or death," John calmly answered.
"That may be the case, but I enjoy inflicting pain and death. So maybe we're a perfect pair," Viktor answered.
John gave no response.
"So here are the rules of our play. I just love honesty, don't you, Mr. Reese?"
John gave Viktor a small sneer.
"While you are visiting with us, you will do as you are told. Just in case you are wondering, you will show respect to us. And…oh, well, we will offer you no food or beverage. We will break you," Viktor malevolently said.
John concentrated on trying to gain a full understanding of this man before him. He had always believed that the most efficient way to lose a fight was to act without knowing the enemy. He would not act yet. His play was to know this enemy before him, and then take him down.
"Oh, I might have told you an untruth. We will certainly give you drink. A Russian favorite, eh?" Viktor taunted as he walked back to the table. With his back to John, he began pouring something into a glass. "You will show your manners and drink."
Approaching John with the glass full of a light brown mixture, Viktor's smile was larger than before. He picked up his cell phone and made a call, speaking into it in Russian.
Viktor came close enough that John could smell the vinegar in the glass. He knew the tactic. Vinegar speeds up dehydration. They wanted him broken sooner rather than later. Viktor stood in front of John smiling, saying nothing.
Several minutes later, the Duncan brothers entered the room. They were wearing dirty aprons. Both were wiping their hands on brown paper towels.
"Derzhi yego," Viktor commanded. Both men then grabbed John by the head and pushed his head back.
John clinched his mouth closed.
"Frank, you pry his mouth open. Jarrod, you hold his head," Viktor ordered.
After several minutes of pressure on his mouth, Frank was able to get John's lips parted. Jarrod continued holding his head back. Viktor approached with the glass full of apple cider vinegar and what looked like a turkey baster. Squeezing the rubber handle so the vinegar filled the baster, Viktor held up in front of John's face the baster full of the vinegar. He then thrust it into John's mouth alongside his cheek to the back of his throat.
John's gag reflex kicked in, but the Duncan brothers held him tightly. The next thing John was aware of was the awful taste of the vinegar as it ran down his throat. His gag reflex continued to activate against the pressure of the Duncan brothers.
After the baster was empty, Viktor put it back down into the glass and filled it up again. He turned back toward John and his cousins. "Frank, "Otkrytʹ rot snova!" he shouted.
Frank responded by prying open John's mouth again.
John was feeling sick. He wanted to vomit.
Viktor inserted the baster back into John's mouth, again against his cheek and all the way back to his throat. He continued pushing down on the rubber handle to make the vinegar emerge into John's throat. John tried closing his throat to prevent anymore vinegar from going down. Viktor saw what he was doing and pinched his cheeks. The vinegar ran down his throat. It sickened his stomach more. They stood there laughing at the apparent color change in John's face. Viktor laughed the loudest and seemed to be enjoying the treatment the most. "My budem slomatʹ yego," he laughed. Grabbing John by his cheeks again, he laughed, "Did you get that?"
"We will break him," John whispered in a raspy, low tone.
"Ah, so our boy knows Russian," Viktor said.
John closed his eyes. He heard the door open from behind him and Margaret calling her brothers. They let loose of John. "Lunch crowd," one of them said to Viktor.
Then it was just John and Viktor alone again.