The colonel’s instructions were clear. Hunt had brought that stranger in for a reason. He wasn’t on any database. Had kept himself under the radar.
That had to mean something. Expert bomb maker. Sniper. Hunt had his reasons. This unknown rebel was in the inn for some reason.
“Find it out.”
The colonel ordered. Who was this sucker?
“Loosen his fucking tongue.”
Is there still a risk out there?
“OK, motherfucker. What ya got to say for yaself?”
A hand had reached in under Garth’s head. Cupped him by the chin. A hand yanked his head back. Garth was still encased in the hood. The move had come as a surprise. And his neck was being twisted backwards to snapping point. A foretaste. He was up for ti now.
He grunted. Teeth clenched at the strain building in the back of his neck.
“Got the wrong guy …..”
He managed to grunt out the answer .. twisted through the pain. Contorted by the weakness. Robbed of air.
He yelled out. A knee shot up and blasted into his unsuspecting gut.
“Wrong answer, motherfucker!”
His head was released. A hard thud thwacked against the side of his head. Head ringing from a hit with a knuckled fist. Reward for telling these thugs what they didn’t want to know.
“Give the fucker ten. See if that jolts his memory.”
Garth was shaking his head. Denying he was involved.
“You’ve got the wrong ……”
A flame-thrower incinerated his arse .. unseen. Garth cried out. The pain threw his leg forward. Shock threw his head up, his neck cracked as he flung it back up. Shockwaves tore up his backbone. Shock threatened collapse.
Too late he heard the evil swish repeated. Whooshing at him from behind. Some stinging instrument of torture zeroing in on his backside. In shock he was shouting out before it hit. Blasted up his arse. Heatwaves pounded like fiery surf up his back. Sweat poured off his hair. Snot snorted out into the hood.
No time to reckon what was hitting him. Again. That menacing whoosh. Smacking his near-bare backside with crippling force. Incinerating hard muscle. Burning agonies blasting over his back. Weakening shudders trembling down his strong muscled legs.
What the ……!
No chance to think. It was back for another bite! Whooshing through the air. No hope of that fighting back. No chance to gasp out the truth. The sting took his breath away. Couldn’t tell them he had nothing to do with this. His backside took another lip-biting blast. Did they even want to know? A will-crunching strike to the hard muscled flesh of his arse. Silencing his tongue.
Stinging. Biting. Hit with some smarting cane. Jolts of electricity alive in his spine. He yelped at the sharp bite taken out of his backside .. stinging red-hot. Flames shot down his thighs. His knees wobbled. Crippling torture. His torso shaken .. ricocheting blasts of fire tore through the muscles up his back.
Here came the next one …..!