aspects of the interrogation over to the others, standing by only to ask
the questions themselves.
Tombstone remembered very little of the details of that hour, but the
pain, the sheer horror of being deliberately and methodically hurt while
being physically helpless, took more of a toll on his mind than on his
body.
Hsiao removed his glasses and polished them on a flowered shirttail.
“Once again, Commander. We know that Jefferson has both antiaircraft
missiles and a close-in defense system called Phalanx. What we need to
know is if those systems are operational while your ship is in port.”
The air stank with the by-products of the interrogation, with the
sour-mingled stenches of vomit and feces, urine, blood and burnt hair,
and fear.
“Go … hell …” Tombstone’s lips were swollen and bloody, and the
words came out cracked and distorted.
Hsiao nodded to Phreng. “Again.”
Tombstone watched through swollen, slitted eyes as the grinning That
extended the prod again. The contacts brushed against the tender skin
of his armpit.
When the ragged echo of the scream had died away, Hsiao shook his head
sadly. “Don’t think you are helping anybody by being so … noble,
Commander.
We have all the information we need, courtesy of three of your seamen.”
He pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages.
“Yes, here we are. Signalman Third Class Charles R. Bentley. Radarman
Third Class Frederick K. Paterowski. Seaman Ernesto Rodriguez. These
men told us everything we wanted to know. They were quite thorough in
their rundown on Jefferson’s defensive systems. We know, for instance,
the operational parameters for the VPS-2 search and track radar
incorporated in the Phalanx CIWS.” He read the letters from his
notebook, letting each fall like a blow. He flipped the notebook shut.
“All we require from you, Commander, is verification. You are an
aviator. Your life depends on the way your ship’s defenses work each
time you approach the Jefferson for a landing.
If you give us this verification, I promise you that you will spare
yourself a great deal of unpleasantness!”
Tombstone remained silent.
At this point he wasn’t entirely sure why he was holding out. Concepts
such as duty and defense of country seemed remote indeed each time
Phreng’s thumb came down on the cattle prod’s firing button.
What was not remote was the purpose behind those questions.
“Shall we talk about aircraft approach procedures, Commander? What if
a That helicopter wanted to land on Jefferson’s flight deck? Who would
they call? What would they have to do?”
The silence was broken only by the harsh wheeze of Tombstone’s
breathing.
So many of Hsiao’s questions were like that … questions which could be
assembled into only one pattern that made any sense at all.
These bastards were planning some sort of attack against the Jefferson.
Possibly they were terrorists, possibly something else. All Tombstone
knew was that the lives of his shipmates might well be riding on whether
Hsiao got the verification he demanded.
“You are being needlessly stubborn. You must know we will get what we
want sooner or later.” Hsiao gestured to Phreng for the cattle prod.
Stepping close to Magruder, he slapped the rod against his open palm for
effect. “I will have the information I require, Commander. I will have
it out of you! You can give it to me freely or I can tear it word by
word from your broken body, the way a fisherman guts a fish!”
When Tombstone still didn’t answer, Hsiao shook his head. “Perhaps,
though, we are following the wrong approach. We hold two friends of
yours prisoner, you know. Lieutenant Commander Bayerly … and your
pretty friend, Pamela Drake.” He paused and smiled. “You see, we …
how do you say? Hold the aces. I’m sure you don’t want your lover
subjected to the same sort of treatment that you have been
experiencing.”
The words were as sharp as the discharge of the prod. Tombstone
wrenched wildly against his bonds, summoning all his strength in a
useless struggle against them. Hsiao, standing only two feet away,
laughed up at him. His need to strike back drowned everything else.
Summoning what moisture he could in his dry mouth, Tombstone snapped his