Milwaukee Deep

Time remaining…27:42:12…

Colonel David Fanning was strapped to an electrified chair as an indication of what lay ahead. The blow pushed his body back into the hard frame so he hurt from the front and from the rigidity of the chair - before he could take breath he received another blow to the body.

“Crane’s dead, Fanning, and you’re out of time,” said Lieutenant Tasker with all the menace he could muster as he looked over towards the mirror in the interrogation room, “now this is your last CHANCE!”

The Colonel spat blood onto the floor but some still managed to coat his chin – he looked up at Tasker.

“There isn’t enough time,” he said almost triumphantly.

“Don’t you worry about that – now where IS IT?!”

Fanning stared at the Lieutenant. He didn’t say a word.

“I don’t want to torture you, Colonel, but you leave me no choice.”

He took a deep breath and decided to give Fanning a taste of what he could expect. He walked over and flicked the switch to send a surge of current into the chair and through into the now quivering body of Fanning.

He again spat blood onto the floor.

“Go fuck yourself,” he finally replied once he’d stopped shaking.

“I won’t be the one being fucked, Fanning,” said Tasker.

“Yes you will, unless you start running now,” suggested Fanning with a gruesome smile revealing his blood soaked teeth.

Tasker looked hard at the Colonel. This tough bastard, military through and through, even in the face of impending death and certain failure, was going to stick to his guns. Dumb but determined.

“Colonel, even if the bomb goes off, it’s not going to help you. Crane’s dead and you’ll join him long before the 30 hours are up. What do you think you’re going to achieve?”

“A soldier’s death. A famous victory,” Fanning wasn’t sure whether to swallow the blood gathering in his mouth or spit again, in defiance. He decided to spit.

“A famous victory? Who the hell do you think is going to win?” Tasker asked.

Fanning looked up, but he didn’t respond.

“Do you think there’s going to be a monument to you somewhere?!”

“I’m a patriot. I don’t need memorials or medals. I just need to know I’m doing the right thing.”

“How do you figure killing ten million of your fellow Americans is doing the right thing?”

“New York is not America, it’s another country, full of fags and foreigners. America will thank me for getting rid of this plague.” Fervour was writ large on Fanning’s face.

“So, you genius you, you’re planning to fight terrorism aimed at America by launching the biggest imaginable terrorist attack against – America. Have I got that right, Einstein?”

Fanning said nothing. Patriots don’t like it when you take the piss.

“You’re going to burn for this Fanning, you know that?”

“We’re all going to burn but at least my death will have meaning.”

“Well, let’s see if I can make it any less meaningful.”

Fanning looked puzzled but didn’t ask his captor what he meant. Tasker opened his phone and dialled.

“Sir,” he said, “I need you to do something …” as he walked out of the room, leaving Fanning still strapped to his electrified chair, and bleeding.

“Had enough? Well we’ll start again,” snarled Lieutenant Tasker, “Now I’ll ask you again – where is the bomb?”

Fanning was silent.

“Do you really want me to flick the switch again, Colonel?” asked Tasker as he again flicked the switch.

Fanning hurt from the body blows and the stinging electrical charges that surged through his frame.

“ANSWER ME, GOD DAMN IT!”

What seemed like hours lasted only a few moments for the Colonel.

“It’s not going to happen,” he finally whispered through his swollen, bleeding lips.

“Well something is, either you’re going to talk or you’re going to croak.”

Tasker reached over to the switch that sat in the centre of the table.

The Colonel tensed in anticipation.

The Lieutenant flicked the switch to on.

The pain was immense.

Fanning screamed out in agony - the electric current seared every inch of his body.

Tasker watched as his prisoner twisted and turned in his chair – then flicked the switch to the off position.

Fanning looked up at Tasker – his left eye had swollen and the right was not far behind. He spat out the blood that had sat at the back of his throat – his nose still bleeding, his body ready to collapse yet again.

“Now do you want to talk?” Tasker asked calmly.

Fanning shook his head to indicate no.

Tasker threw the switch again.

“I’M NOT FUCKING AROUND ANYMORE, COLONEL!”

Fanning convulsed in pain – the electric shock rushing through every vein in his body.

The Lieutenant stood up, the chair falling back onto the floor as he did so. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at Fanning.

The Colonel was still under immense pain – Tasker had not yet turned off the switch.

“We can go on all night, Colonel – if you’re going to let New York burn, then I’m going to torture you for hours.”

Finally Tasker flicked the switch to the off position.

Fanning collapsed in his chair.

“I don’t get you, Colonel. Crane’s dead, yet you still won’t talk.”

With all of his might Fanning looked up at the man standing over him.

“Crane may be dead, but his legacy will live on,” he gasped.

“You may be right, Colonel, but you won’t be alive to see it.”

“Then kill me ALREADY!”

“Not yet,” replied Tasker, “We’ve still got work to do.”

The Colonel clenched his hands, gripping down on the armrest - he held on for dear life as another flood of electricity ran down his spine.

“Tell me, God damn it!” screamed Lieutenant Tasker, “where is it!?”

Fanning almost collapsed in his chair, the only thing holding him in his seat were the leather straps across his body.

Tasker stood over his prisoner. He checked his watch - time was running out.

He knew his captive would not be able to sustain another shock – it was now make or break.

“This is the last time I ask this of you, Colonel,” Tasker said in a quiet and calm manner, “After that I’m not responsible for what happens.”

Fanning held his breath. Tasker’s phone rang. He left the room to answer it. When he returned he held the phone to Fanning’s ear, “Here’s someone you might want to say goodbye to.”

“Hello, David?”

“Margaret? Where are you?”

“Travelling, we’re in a plane. Just us. They said we’re going to New York.”

“Who’s us?”

“The whole family. The kids, your parents, they even took your dad out of the hospital, Peter and Evelyn and their children are also with us and even your sister and her family. What’s going on David?”

“It’s a game, Margaret, just a game. Everything will be all right. I’ve got to go now. Love you.”

Tasker removed the phone from Fanning’s ear and closed it.

“Right, shall we start again?”

“OK. But first we deal. I tell you and I face no charges and my family is not punished in any way, shape or form. Agreed?”

“You drive a hard bargain, but OK, it’s a deal,” said Tasker in as authoritative a voice as he could muster. He knew it was a promise he had no authority to make and one that was not likely to be honoured.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t, but I’m being forced to trust you and risk the lives of ten million people. All you’re risking is the lives of every one of your family. Do you want to take the chance and take the deal or do you want to guarantee your family dies with New York?”

The sigh signalled Fanning’s defeat. “The subway, it’s on a train. I put it on a train, one o’clock…”

He fell forward and only the straps holding him to the chair stopped him from crashing to the ground.

“Fanning,” screamed Tasker, “don’t fucking die on me now, you bastard.”

Tasker slapped Fanning’s face, willing him to continue his confession, but not even Tasker, with all his science and trickery was going to get a corpse to talk.

“Oh, fuck.”