The woman is like a tropical thunderstorm. Once the lightning has broken, the rain doesn’t stop falling. The only thing different with this storm is that it squirms quite a lot.
Adie
Most countries have finally agreed that ‘water boarding’ is a form of torture. I can whole-heartedly confirm that. I’ve only been subjected to it once, and once was enough. Thankfully, my delightful father Geraud, and my equally delightful brother Alain thought it was far too tame, mostly because it didn’t leave any lingering marks, so they never bothered with it.
It’s not a new concept. It was used in the Spanish and Flemish inquisitions, in the Philippine-American War, World War II, the Algerian War, and the Vietnam War. It’s been carried out by the Japanese, the Germans, the British, the Americans, and just about any other country who was desperate to glean information out of a reluctant prisoner. This is because it works. Most victims of this kind of torture don’t make it past fifteen seconds, and with good reason.
My one brief experience with it is seared into my memory forever with burning clarity. It isn’t something you can forget. The torture is so intense, you firmly believe you are going to drown.
The whole process doesn’t take very long. You’re strapped down tight to a wooden board which is then placed at an angle, so that your head is lower than your feet. Sometimes they use some kind of material to cover your face, and sometimes they don’t. When the bad guys come at you with a bucket load of water that they pour all over your mouth and nose, it doesn’t take long to reach the part where you can’t breathe. Let me tell you, it’s fucking frightening. One of the most important things in this world is oxygen. Without it – we’re all dead. When your lungs, mouth and throat are filling up with water and there’s no air in sight, you’re in for a very rocky ride. Basically, you’re inhaling water, and water really isn’t meant to be inhaled. Your body thinks it’s drowning, and you gag, over and over again. Your throat swells, your lungs and nose are on fire, and everything fucking hurts.
I suppose the best way I can describe it is as a kind of slow-motion suffocation. It’s dangerous. Hell, even when it’s done right, it’s a controlled dancing-with-death kind of thing. It’s basically a hideous form of torture that can be used again and again until the victim capitulates – and they will. There isn’t anyone who’s going to take that for long, trust me.
I meant what I said to Ione about not having her here for more than a day, though. I want this done and dusted within twenty-four hours. Although I don’t want to have to do anything too extreme, I will if he pushes me. I’m positive it won’t come to that, though. James is fiercely protective of both his friends and family. He’d rather suffer himself than watch anyone else be tortured. I know this for a fact because I’ve seen it firsthand.
Waterboarding will be the absolute last resort. If he messes me around, then I will go there. If he doesn’t come running after seeing video footage of that, then he’s the biggest asshole on the planet. I can’t imagine it will take him more than a few hours to get here, but we’ll see. If we start slow, with any luck Ione can be released within a few hours. He’d better get a move on, though. I won’t hesitate to use something nasty if he intends to drag his heels, although I’d prefer not to inflict that upon his poor sister. She’s far too pretty and delicate for me to fuck up. She’s the kind of girl that might be traumatized for life after this kind of shit, and I have a feeling she’s already halfway there. That’s not what this is about. I just want Lois.
There’s this feeling of connection with Ione, though. It feels a little like Déjà vu, even though I know I’ve never met her before in my life. Something inside me feels insanely guilty for what’s about to go down, and the mere idea is crazy. I never feel guilty about anything, and I’ve done a lot worse than this. This is child’s play. Even if we go with my worst-case scenario - it’s water, for Christ’s sakes. Normally, I’d be at it with knives and needles, doing my best to make a mess. She’s getting off easy.
The strange thing is, even though I’m a sadist who greatly enjoys watching people suffer, I like to feel that they’ve earned the punishment. When I’m tackling bad guys, I have no problem inflicting all kinds of nasty shit upon them. Torturing innocents, however, just isn’t my bag. I’ve done that for too many years at the behest of my father and brother. They made me into a monster, but now that they’re out of my life, I intend to try and make amends – once I’ve finished with Ione. This is just a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. I intend to have Lois delivered to my doorstep by this time tomorrow, or there will be trouble. James knows not to mess with me. He’s seen me in action plenty of times. He’ll hijack a plane if necessary, but he’ll be here before any really bad shit goes down.
Settling back into my leather seat, I look out of the window and study the world below me. There is a sea of twinkling lights out in the distance, but I can’t discern much else. We are still too high up. Night has fallen, there isn’t a cloud in sight, and the world looks like a vast wasteland from where I’m sitting. It’s pretty, in a darkly ethereal way. It suits my mood.
I like flying. It’s peaceful in the jet, and it gives me a chance to catch up on my thoughts. At the moment, I have Ione’s cell phone in my hands and I’m itching to send James a message, but thankfully there’s no signal up here and she hasn’t given me the code yet. It won’t take long to get it. After a brief spell with the whip, she’ll tell me anything I want to know. Including all of her previous sexual encounters, should I want to know those details, and I have a feeling I might. The woman makes me curious. She is definitely not your average female. The woman went down fighting, and she nearly got the drop on me. Maybe tormenting her for a few hours will be fun. We’ll see.
Spinning the pretty pink iPhone around in my fingers, I wonder if she’s got anything juicy on here. She doesn’t look the type but looks can be deceiving. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll have lots of naughty things on here - really fucking dirty and depraved things. Some of those things she’s going to love, and some she’ll hate, but at least she’ll be left with some mementos of our time together. Maybe she can show them to her therapist in a few months’ time. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in that room.
Placing it back in my pocket, I sigh. There’s no point contacting James until I have something to show him. He’ll try to talk me down, otherwise. He’s good at that, and he’s had a lot of practice with me, but it won’t wash this time. I don’t want to hear his miserable excuses. I’m going to snatch his wife and make her mine. There will be no negotiations on the matter.
Swirling the ice around in my glass of sparkling water, I take several sips and then close my eyes. Tiredness is still beating at my eyes from yesterday’s cocktail of drugs, and I suspect I won’t get a lot of sleep for the next day at least. Talking about sleep, maybe I should go and check on my captive. She should be waking up shortly, and it wouldn’t do for her to get up to any mischief. As she’s tied hand and foot, there’s little chance of that happening, but it’s always good to check, right?