Tom Clancy's Op-center Balance of Power - Tom Clancy [65]
Struggling weakly, Adolfo was dragged several feet and then they pinned him again, on his back. The sock was still jammed in his mouth. It was dark and tears of pain filled Adolfo's eyes. He could not see the faces of his captors. He fought to get free again but his efforts were like the wriggling of a fish in one of his nets.
"Save your strength," the man said. "You're not going anywhere-except to hell if you don't tell us what we wish to know. Do you understand?"
Adolfo looked up at the dark face. He tried to spit out the sock, not to respond but in defiance.
The man grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled Adolfo's head toward him. "Do you understand?"
Adolfo didn't answer. A moment later the man nodded to someone kneeling on Adolfo's knee. A moment after that he felt his right leg being lifted. Every part of him screamed as his bare foot was placed into the open grate of the oven, above the dying fire. He came violently alive and screamed into the sock and tried to withdraw. But the men held him there.
"Do you understand?" the man above him repeated calmly.
Adolfo nodded vigorously as he kicked and rocked and tried to get away. The man turned toward the others. They withdrew his foot and set it back down. The flesh screamed and he was viciously awake. But the pain focused his mind. He was panting through the sock and squirming under their grip. He looked up wide-eyed at the one dark face.
The man removed the sock and held it over Adolfo's mouth. "Who do you work with?" he asked.
Adolfo was panting heavily. His foot felt icy-hot, like ocean spray on a bad sunburn.
He felt them lift up the other leg.
"Who do you work with?"
"A general," Adolfo gasped. "An Air Force general named Pintos. Roberto Pintos."
"Where is he stationed?"
Adolfo didn't answer. It was time to wait a little before lying again. The one time Adolfo had met General Amadori-the real general, not this imaginary General Pintos-was at a meeting of nonmilitary aides in an airplane hangar in Burgos. There, the General had warned everyone that this day might come. That they might be found out and interrogated. He said that once the war had begun, it wouldn't matter what they said. But he cautioned them to hold out as long as possible for their own sense of honor.
Most men can be broken, he had said. The trick is not to be broken without confusing the enemy. If you are captured, there is nothing you can do to prevent being tortured. What you must do is talk. Tell the enemy lies. Keep on lying as long as you can. Lie until the enemy cannot tell the true from the false, the good information from the bad.
"Where is General Pintos stationed?" the torturer continued.
Adolfo shook his head. The sock was crushed back into his mouth and he felt himself jerked forward on the left and his foot placed into the ferocious heat. His struggles were as frantic as before. But while the pain was awful and it drew sweat from every inch of him, there was one thing comforting. The pain in his right foot was not so blinding anymore. He held on to that thought until the pain in his left foot tore it from his mind and sent sheets of anguish up and down his entire body. Except for his right hand. He felt nothing there. Nothing at all, not even pain-and that scared him. It made him feel a little dead.
They pulled his foot from the fire and dropped it back down. They pinned him again. The dark face came close to him again. The tears in Adolfo's eyes smeared the black shape.
"Where is Pintos stationed?"
The sheets of pain had become a constant burning, but it was less intense. Adolfo knew that he could hold out until the next round-whatever the next round was. He was proud of himself. In a strange way he felt free. Free to suffer, free to resist. But it was his choice.
"Ba-Barcelona," Adolfo moaned.
"You're lying," the torturer replied.
"N-no!"
"How old is he?"
"F-fifty-two."
"What color is his hair?"
"Brown."
The torturer smacked Adolfo. "You're lying!"
Adolfo looked up at the face and shook his head once. "No. I speak the truth."