The general’s gaze took in Scott’s naked body.. strung up, battered. Playing over the taut physique. His two men had worked it over well. Bruised, abused, hurting .. and it was only going to get worse.
But something was not right. That spirit? That toughness of mind? On top of the doggedness of that etched torso to keep absorbing the hits? That normal?
Facing down two determined torturers .. they’d put everything into the job. Unfazed though hurting. Unintimidated. That just some ordinary soldier? All that punishment and still finding the spunk to keep giving it back at these two guys?
Intrigued the general bit on a lower lip .. thoughtful. Eyes assessing the battered abs .. nodding at memory of how brutally that sjambok had taken his arse.
Thinking, working something out. The general’s eyes crept back .. up from the tight muscled torso .. peering into the sniper’s .. as if trying to read his soul.
— – – –
Scott saw the general’s gaze all over him .. devouring him. Engrossed. His eyes were all over Scott’s face. Reading his mind. As if peering into his core.
“I wonder …..?”
The general’s baton was gliding over Scott’s chest .. downwards.
“What have we got here?”
His eyes peered into Scott’s face again. His head cocked to one side. Enquiring.
“Have I been getting this all wrong …..?”
His face creased .. having second thoughts, thinking things through.
“Tough as nails ….”
The baton was playing around Scott’s exposed abs .. stroking them up and down.
“Built like this ….?”
The general was looking into Scott’s eyes again.
“Absorbed those beatings.”
An anxiety was starting to knot in Scott’s gut.
“Tough bastard …..”
The general was smirking into Scott’s face. A goading look .. like he had guessed a secret.
“Tough as nails …..”
The general was giving Scott a knowing look. He was beginning to fear the general was catching on .. working out what he was.
“You’ve trained to take torture? That your little secret?”
The baton had jabbed up under Scott’s chin. Forcing his head up. Stretched, upon his toes, Scott could do little more than snarl back.
“Even thinks he can face down a tazer …..”
The knot in Scott’s guts gave another twist .. the grin on the general’s face said he had caught on.
“And ordering this captain not to talk ….? Tazers be damned …..”
He had made up his mind.
“Takes a special kind of man, that. A SPECIAL kind of soldier ….?”
The general grinned. Forcing the baton up higher under the chin. Forcing Scott’s head back.
“Some tough dude ….?”
Scott felt his heart beating faster. The general had convinced himself. He was tempted to tell him to go get fucked. But he reckoned he’d said enough. Best keep his trap shut.
“Not the hired help.”
The general was smugly nodding into Scott’s defiant face.
“Well, well, well …. What have we got ourselves here ….”
The baton jabbed up.
Another hard jab made Scott lose his cool.
That only got the general to chuckle.
“SEEEAL?” he joked.
He stood back. His eyes took in afresh the muscled torso. Evidence of how much this soldier had taken was written all over his naked body. Badly bruised in his abs .. Mzama’s clubbing had left a painful memory on him there. But he’d taken it and was still full of spirit. Proof that this so-called “private” was hard as old leather. And afterwards that thrashing .. after his soldier had laid his sjambok into his arse .. how many times? He’d squealed. This punk had let rip. But who wouldn’t? This sniper had taken more than any simple grunt would do. And certainly more than any paid mercenary.
And still he had the guts to order Mwenye to keep his trap shut. Faced with having the shit blasted out of him. Knowing Mzama was charging up the tazers. And what that was going to mean. Ordering his captain to do as told .. prepared to face Mzama on his return. A run-of-the-mill grunt? A hired help? Just some private good with a high velocity rifle? Like hell!
“Got ourselves one of those .. what is you Americans call yourselves ….? .. When your government can’t admit they’ve sent in their Special Forces? .. Trainers. You a trainer, kid?”
The general’s eyes peered into Scott’s core through his eyes. Reading his mind. Searching for Scott’s secret.
“The land-of-the-free sent you in .. secretly .. under stealth .. a “technical advisor?”
Self-satisfied the general snorted happily to himself.
“Sent you to blow my brains out?”
Sneering he chortled. At this sight of a Special Forces guy whose mistake had got him into this.
Without turning round, not missing off his superior smirk into Scott’s glare, the general snapped off an order.
“Corporal, take the captain to a cell. Make him comfortable.”
Mwenye resisted as they dragged him to his feet.
“What you want with him? He knows nothing ….”
The general didn’t turn around. His smug eyes kept boring into Scott Daley’s face.
“Beg to differ.”
“Our American friend knows an awful lot ……”
Scott guessed he’d been rumbled. Defiant he smirked back into the general’s smugness.
“Wasting your fucking time …..”
Pleased with himself, the general shrugged.
“Time will tell …..”
He gave a quick glance at the soldiers guarding Scott.
“Pull him up. Off the ground.”
His eyes now travelled down the length of Scott’s muscular body as the soldiers jumped to it and started to haul on the rope .. watching the muscles stretch .. Scott’s toes lifting off earth. Eyes on inflamed muscle as it stretched. Gauging the hurt as the jerks pulled on bruised flesh. Assessing the growing strains as the torso dangled in the air .. pain hauled through battered ribs.
“Then go tell Lt. Mzama .. his tazers are needed here.”
— – – – — – – – — – – –