A/N Sorry about this chapter folks. Hope to have had the interrogation over, but looks like it will finish up next chapter. This is a bit of a filler, but hopefully one that will whet your appetite for more, shortly. Thanks again for all the reviews. Please please, I'm begging you plleeeeeeze. If you've enjoyed the story so far, any kind of comments or reviews would be deeply appreciated.
Same disclosure as before. All glory and honor to Carnival, ITV, Masterpiece PBS and Julian and Jessica Fellowes.
John was sitting in Robert's stateroom, his eyes still feeling a bit heavy from lack of sleep. He'd managed to get a little over an hour of shut-eye and once he'd washed up, changed his uniform, and made himself a bit more presentable marched over to see Robert and report to him what had happened overnight.
Bates wanted to get there bright and early so he would make sure to be the first to tell Robert about Doogan.
He wasn't surprised really how Robert reacted to the news.
"Doogan… why of course. Typical left footer. They can't be trusted Bates. Should never allow them in the army. Irish Micks can't be loyal to the crown. Damn Papists! They're all bred to be traitors."
Bates just sat in the chair and stared at Robert, wondering at what point in his tirade Col Crawley would recall that Bates was half Irish. He tried not to take it personally and chalked it up to Robert's tendency to speak first whatever popped into his brain with no filter between his brain and his mouth. But still he inwardly bristled at Lord Grantham's words. His tendency to stereotype groups of people, in particular the Irish and Catholics, was one trait of Robert's that John did not appreciate.
And so he sat and said nothing, while Crawley rambled on until he finally paused, a look of horror crossing his face.
Here it comes, John thought… He's going to remember in 3…2…1.
"Oh dear Lord! Bates! My God man…I forgot… You know I wasn't talking about you. I just lost my head for a moment. If I caused you offense, I deeply apologize." Robert's face reddened in embarrassment. He truly regretted what he'd just said.
"No offense taken, Sir." Bates dismissed Robert's faux pas with a wave of his hand. "Shall we move on to the question of Doogan's interrogation? I'd like to conduct it alone if that's all right with you, sir? He was in my squad and I'm hoping he'll be more willing to speak to me as an individual rather than to a group. Plus, there is our shared Irish heritage…"
Bates couldn't help sending a dig Robert's way and took some pleasure in seeing the colonel's wince slightly in reaction to what he'd just said.
His face still flushed with embarrassment, Robert nodded in agreement. "Of course, you're right again Bates. I think you'd be the most logical person to question Doogan, for a number of reasons. I'd like to make up a list of questions, however that I want answered. Give me an hour and come back here and I'll have them ready for you."
"Yes sir. I'll return then at 0900 hours then?"
"Right, that will be perfect Sergeant."
John used the time before he was to report back to Robert to write down questions he would have for Mick also. He didn't want to read them off a piece of paper, planning on taking a more conversational approach initially. If that got him nowhere, then he knew he may need to be prepared to take a hardline with his former team member. He wasn't prepared to become violent with the man, but he knew he could intimidate Mick and that's the most Bates hoped would be required to get Doogan to talk.
He'd gone down to the brig straight from Robert's stateroom, to inform the guard there that he planned to interrogate the prisoner at 0930 and to have Mick ready.
The list of questions Colonel Crawley gave Bates fairly well mirrored his own, so John found it easy to focus on the few discrepancies between them and add them to his own set of questions.
As 9:30 approached, Bates felt a slight bit of apprehension at the thought of interrogating his former compatriot.
Aside from their shared heritage, John had always regarded Mick fondly. An above average scrapper, someone Bates would want to have his back. He had a hard time coming to terms with the idea that the ginger haired soldier with a ready sense of humor was in actuality a cold blooded, would-be murderer and traitor to the country he'd once swore to defend.
Those thoughts were still spinning around in his head when he found himself far below deck, in the depths of the Dunottar, where the brig was located.
John nodded to the sentry posted and indicated he was ready to talk to Mick. He was escorted to a small, dank room with a light bulb hanging from the ceiling… a wooden table and two chairs on opposite sides. The door appeared to be made of steel with a small rectangular sliding window at eye level. There was no door knob or latch on the inside of the door. Entrance and exit were totally dependent upon the outside guard.
The room smelled of sweat and urine and John was taken aback at the smudges of what appeared to be blood on the table top. He felt a bead of perspiration form on his upper lip as the enormity of what he was about to do broke clear in his mind.
Had he been a naïve fool assuming that he would get what he wanted from his former mate through something more resembling a chat over tea than an actual interrogation of a prisoner? He knew he must get the truth out from Doogan. But how far was he willing to take it to achieve that goal?
John's thoughts were interrupted at the sound of shuffling feat and the clank of metal chains. He looked up and his mouth dropped in shock as he regarded Doogan. The man was near unrecognizable. His face was bloodied with his left eye swollen shut. Dried blood trailed from his nose, and Bates could see that his lower lip had been split open. His hands were cuffed and his ankles were loosely shackled.
John felt the bile rise to his throat, sickened at the treatment Mick had endured, but before he could say anything to the guard he was cut off.
"'Ere you go Sergeant Bates. Here's your mick, Mick." The guard chuckled at his own joke as he pushed Doogan to sit down.. "We softened him up a bit in anticipation of your talk with 'im." Again, the man fairly beamed with pride over his handiwork.
"You can leave us, then." Bates growled at the guard. A frown crossed the soldier's face. He had expected some sign of appreciation or gratitude from the Sergeant, not to be dismissed so abruptly.
"Knock on the door when you're ready to come out then Sergeant Bates." He spun around quickly, not waiting for a reply, and left the room, slamming the door shut.
For a minute they said nothing. The silence hung between them, thick and unyielding. John swore he could hear his heartbeat and wondered if Mick could too. It felt like a standoff… First person to speak was the loser… John cleared his throat but remained mute.
Finally Doogan folded. "How's your side?
"I'll live," John smirked.
"Well, good on that then." the private sighed. "I expect you want to know…why, Sergeant Bates". Mick's head was down as he was unable to look John in the eyes. "I expect you also want to know who's behind it."
Bates nodded slowly. ''I do indeed, Mick. You've got to tell me the truth. Neither one of will leave this room until you do."
Doogan chuckled. "Really Sarge? What are you going to do to make me talk? Have more of them "guards" have at me again? You seen what they done to me while I've been in British custody. Are ye curious what they all will resort to once they know they've been tasked to beat the truth out of me?
"Doogan, you know I had nothing to do with what happened to you earlier at the hands of that guard!" Bates was indignant that Mick would even think that. "And I've no intention of resorting to any type of physical duress against you. Just tell me the truth. Help me understand why you did it and who's behind it?"
Doogan heard a slight pleading in John's voice. He knew that his former sergeant was a fair fellow, a decent man and a dedicated soldier. But he didn't know what Mick knew… hadn't seen what Mick had seen. If he had, perhaps they'd be on the same side right now.
"Aye, so it's the plain and simple truth you're after Sarge? Oh, I can tell you the truth, but I doubt ye'll be able to hear it as such."
"Try me," Bates responded.