It's based on 24 and its characters, but I've added a twist, so don't shoot me at once for "messing Jack up".
It was an experiment and I really like how it worked out, twisted as it is.
I hope you'll enjoy the read and I'd love to hear your thoughts/comments on it.
Thank you.
Interrogation
techniques.
He was getting tired of this.
They had been at it for hours and yet the
suspect hadn’t uttered a word. Not even a sound, despite everything they had
already done to him. Even Burke wasn’t getting anywhere.
The man just simply wouldn’t talk.
He was in agony, that much was certain.
Jack lost his temper suddenly and he lashed
out, his fist colliding solidly with the man’s jaw.
More than once!
A split lip, a bloody nose and a cut brow
later, Burke managed to pull him off with the help of two guards and they
manhandled him out of the room to let him cool down. Burke went back in to keep
an eye on the suspect while the guards ‘escorted’ Jack out of the building for
some fresh air. When they finally let go of him, Jack turned, drew his gun and
shot one of them in the leg for twisting his arm that hard. He turned the gun
on the other, leveling it with his head.
“You,” he snarled, “are fired. Get the hell
out of here before I change my mind.”
The guard swallowed hard but backed away
without a word. He slipped back into the building, running into the doctor who
went out, holding something hidden behind his back.
“Jack,” he said quietly, “let me help you.”
“What with?” Jack snarled, wondering if he
should holster his weapon or not.
“To calm down. I have something that will
help.”
He took a small step forward.
Carefully.
“Will you let me help you?”
“That depends.”
The doctor brought his arm forward,
producing a can from behind his back.
“I think you could use this.”
For a long moment, Jack’s eyes remained
glued to the can, but then the doctor drew his attention away from it.
“You can have it if you promise to be
calm.”
“I promise.” Jack replied softly.
“Then put away your gun.”
He did and accepted the can.
It was cold.
Ice–cold.
He snapped it open and put it to his lips,
taking a long swig from it.
“Not too greedy, Jack,” the doctor warned,
“you know what happens when you get greedy.”
Jack emptied the can in long but slow gulps
after what he handed the empty can back to the doctor for him to ‘dispose of
the evidence’.
“This is our little secret, now isn’t it,
Jack?”
He nodded.
“Now, go back inside and be a little more
civilized.”
Again he nodded.
The beer had already given him a pleasant
buzz and he felt better.
Lighter.
He went back inside and went straight into
the interrogation room.
“Burke, I wanna do this my way. Go get my kit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go!”
Burke stopped the IV and shut off his
equipment, pushed up and left the room.
“You’re gonna wish you never met me.” Jack
snarled to his suspect.
Moments later, Burke came back with a large
suitcase which he put on the table in the corner.
“What do you want to start with?” Burke
asked, opening the case.
“Sensory deprivation.” Jack stated, eyeing
his suspect.
Burke pulled out a pair of blackened
goggles and put them on the suspect, blinding him completely. Next he put
headphones on his ears and nodded to Jack. The suspect was ready to begin.
Jack walked over to the control panel and
chose the music he wanted to use after what he switched it on, setting the
volume to the loudest possible.
Seconds later, the suspect began to writhe
about, his hearing assaulted by the extremely loud music in his ears. He shook
his head, trying to get the headphones off, but that wouldn’t do. Next Jack
threw another switch, turning on the goggles, which were in fact two tiny
little screens on which a video played. The video that went along with the
music he had chosen started up and the suspect yanked on his arms, trying to
break free.
The volume was so high Jack and Burke could
easily hear it as well and Jack started to dance, humming along until the
chorus line came up.
He sang the chorus along at the top of his
voice.
“You know I’m bad, I’m bad, you know it,
you know it.”
Burke sat quietly, trying not to react.
Even when Jack started moonwalking around the room. It had taken him a lot of
practice to not react when Jack used
his own torture techniques.
They were – to say the least – unique.
After an hour of the sensory torture, Jack
shut off the music and the video, removed the goggles and headphones and got in
his suspect’s face again. The man was sweating and breathing hard, his eyes
puffed and red, his cheeks wet with his tears.
“Talk to me!” Jack yelled.
Still no reply.
“Burke, strip him.”
Burke got up and picked up a pair of
scissors after what he started to cut the suspect’s clothes off him.
Jack went over to the case, hesitating
which of the items to use.
He eventually went for a long goose feather
and turned back to his suspect, wasting no time on starting to tickle him.
The man squirmed around in his chair, but
remained silent.
“Shoes.” Jack ordered.
Twenty minutes of intense feather tickling
got them nothing more and Jack tossed the feather onto the table.
“Damn you,” Jack yelled, “talk to me!”
The man shook his head.
“Okay, you’re asking for this.” Jack
snapped, pushing off on the arms of the man as he had been leaning onto them.
“Burke, the colors.”
Burke went over to the case again and came
back with a tray filled with small bottles.
All different colors nail polish.
Jack picked the first one, a flashy pink
one and signaled to Burke to hold the man’s hand.
It took some effort to get him to stretch
his fingers and hold them in place for Jack to be able to paint the nail. The
color screamed at them and Jack grinned a devilish grin, put the bottle down
and picked another one, a nearly fluorescent Green, and painted the next nail.
He picked a bright yellow after that and a screaming blue for the fourth, never
relenting until he had painted the last nail in an ugly purple.
Burke let go of the man’s hand and he
pulled it back, clenching his fist, but the polish was a fast drying type and
all he managed to do was smudge the polish on his thumb a little.
“Talk to me, or I do your other hand as
well.” Jack yelled.
Still nothing.
“Burke.”
Burke went around to the other side of the
suspect and pinned his other hand while Jack picked out the colors he was going
to use this time. Green, orange, red, white and black. He took his time to do
it right, he didn’t like the messy jobs some others did.
The man still refused to talk to him when
he had finished his second hand.
“Get his feet.” Jack ordered dryly.
He saw tears form in the suspects eyes but
still, he wouldn’t speak.
He stubbornly refused to speak.
One foot down, his toes looking like a
rainbow from hell, the man still wouldn’t answer his questions, so Jack painted
the nails on his other foot as well, making it even worse on his prisoner.
“You can stop me anytime you want,” Jack
barked, “all you have to do is answer my questions.”
The man was crying big fat tears now, but
he still refused to speak.
“Get me the other kit.”
Burke retrieved a smaller case from the
large one and put it down on the table.
Jack turned to it and opened it, revealing
the contents to his prisoner.
His eyes went wide in shock and he shook
his head.
“Talk to me.” Jack warned.
The man shook his head and swallowed his
tears.
“Paper towel.” Jack said, holding out his
hand.
Burke put a towel in his hand and Jack
wiped the man’s face with it, drying his tears and wiping the moisture off his
cheeks. He reached to the small case and pulled out a first item, flipping it
open and checking the color. It would do. He took the brush and ran it across
the powder while Burke grabbed the man’s head, holding it firmly so Jack would
have no trouble doing what needed to be done. He applied a thick layer of
powder and leaned back to check it. It was just about perfect.
Next he added a touch of blush to the man’s
cheeks, smearing it out lovingly.
This was his favorite part.
After the blush, came the eye shadow. A
screamingly green green. And the
finishing touch was the sparkly blue lipstick.
“Now
will you talk to me?” Jack barked, “Or should I continue?”
The man shook his head.
“What ‘no’?” Jack barked.
“Talk?”
Again the man shook his head.
“You friggin’ piece of shit, you’re making me do this.”
He pushed up angrily and went back to the
case.
He retrieved an electrical device which
looked a lot like a baby-bottle heater and set it down next to the case,
plugged it in and turned it on. Then he retrieved a large jar of wax.
He put the jar in the device and let it
warm up, searching for the rest of his tools.
He needed a spatula and the sheets and he
also needed the scented moisturizing lotion.
The heater bleeped twice and Jack retrieved
the wax, screwed the lid off and tested the warmth, pulling his finger back
hissing in pain.
“Too hot.” he hissed.
Burke kept his cool.
The suspect on the other hand was starting
to lose it.
He struggled against his bonds and wriggled
about on the chair.
“Burke, get his pants.” Jack ordered dryly.
Burke quickly cut the man’s pants off him
and tossed the cut up garment to the floor along with the shredded shirt.
Jack approached, carrying the jar of wax,
the spatula and the sheets. He deposited everything on the table and went back
to the case to get the lotion. He stopped in front of his suspect, a look of
sheer misery on the man’s face.
“This is a non-stop procedure,” Jack
warned, “once I start it, I can’t stop until I’m done. Do you understand me?”
The man nodded.
“Do you want me to do this to you?”
The man shook his head.
Fervently.
“Then talk
to me.” Jack yelled.
Much to his surprise, the man shook his
head again.
“Fine.” Jack snarled, “Have it your way.”
He picked up the pot of wax and the spatula
and knelt down in front of the man.
His ankles were tied to the chair so he
couldn’t get away from him and Jack smeared the hot wax on his leg, applying a
thick layer. The sheet came on and he yanked it off as soon as he could.
The suspect gasped in pain and strained
against his bonds but not a word was spoken and Jack continued waxing his legs.
First he did the man’s lower legs, from the
knee down.
He could still stop at that if he had to.
“Will you talk to me now?” he snapped as he finished.
The man shook his head again.
Jack continued with his upper legs and gave
him another chance to give up the information they needed.
Still the man refused to speak.
So Jack tackled his arms.
It didn’t take long but it was damn
painful.
He knew, he had tested it on himself a long
time ago.
Still nothing came from the suspect.
By now, the wax wasn’t as warm as it should
be, so he took a moment to reheat it, leaving it less long this time around.
When he came back, he tackled the guy’s
chest.
It was covered in a thick layer of curly
hair and he took his time to rid the man of every last one of them.
His prisoner gasped and writhed in pain,
yanking on his bonds and shaking his head in disbelief at the amount of pain
Jack was inflicting on him, but yet he would not talk to them.
He signaled to Burke who untied the man’s
left arm and pulled it up over his head, wrapping it over so his hand touched
his right shoulder, presenting his armpit to Jack who proceeded to apply wax
there as well, ridding the man of every last scrap of hair. His left arm came
back down and was secured again and Burke repeated it with his right, so Jack
could tackle the other armpit as well. When the man still refused to talk,
Burke picked up the scissors again and cut away the man’s briefs.
Eyes opening wide in horror and shock the
man tried to pull free again, but not a word crossed his lips.
Jack reached down and applied a first strip
of wax.
The man gasped and thrashed in his chair
but would not speak.
So Jack continued, ridding the man of every
last bit of pubic hair he could reach without touching him.
Still he wouldn’t cooperate.
Jack leaned his elbows on the man’s knees
and hung his head for a moment.
When he looked up, he was just about as
desperate as the man in front of him.
“Look, I really don’t want to do this to
you, but I will if I have to.”
He left a blank.
“Don’t make me do this.”
The man shook his head.
Still not a sound escaped him.
Jack reached for the spatula with one hand
and for the man’s privates with the other.
“Look buddy, I’ll give you one last chance
to talk to me.” he said, lifting the man’s cock out of the way and revealing
the hairy pouch underneath.
“Talk to me or I will wax your balls.”
The man shook his head, eyes wide in
despair.
“You don’t want me to do this buddy.”
He kept shaking his head.
“Talk
to me!” Jack bellowed.
More shaking.
Not a word though.
“Fine.” Jack snapped.
He covered the man’s balls in wax and
applied the sheet to it, then yanked it off without hesitation.
The man’s eyes opened as wide as they ever
would and his jaw nearly dislocated itself, but still not a sound came from
him.
There was nothing left for Jack to do.
Not a single hair on the man’s body left
except on his head.
He sighed heavily and pushed up, putting
his gear away again and turning to Burke.
“I’m gonna have to do this Burke.” he said
apologetically.
He knew it was hard on Burke to do what he
was planning, but he sucked it up and came over.
Just then the intercom buzzed and Bill’s
voice crackled over the speaker.
“Jack, could I talk with you for a moment?”
Jack met Burke’s eyes, he knew what to do
until he got back.
He went into the observation room and
closed the door behind him, waiting just one step into the room.
He didn’t like it when Bill called him out
of an interrogation like that.
It had better be important.
“What’s going on here, Jack?” Bill asked
sternly.
His entire attitude screamed ‘I’m not
liking what you’re doing’ and Jack instinctively pulled up his defensive wall.
“He’s not talking to me, Bill, I’ve tried
everything I could think of.”
He looked through the observation window.
“I was just about to give him my clown
routine when you called me.”
“Jack.” Bill said coldly.
He snapped his head back and met Bill’s
eyes again.
“Yes?”
“He’s not talking to you?”
“No, he’s not.”
“Do you know why he’s not talking to you?”
“Well, because he’s a terrorist and-”
“No, Jack,” Bill sighed, “that’s not why he’s not talking to you.”
He sighed again.
“Jack, he’s not talking to you …” he
dropped his head and shook it slowly.
“He’s not talking to you because he can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Jack asked, not understanding
what Bill meant.
“Talk.”
He sighed again.
“The man can’t talk, Jack, he’s mute.”
Jack’s jaw dropped nearly all the way to
the ground.
“But … why didn’t he say something?”
Bill threw his hands in the air.
“Because he can’t, Jack, he can’t
talk.”
“But …”
“Have you been drinking, Jack?” Bill asked
suddenly.
Jack’s eyes went blank and his shoulders
drooped a little.
How come Bill always knew?
“Come on, let’s get you to the clinic, you
need to lie down.”
“But …” Jack opposed, turning back to the
big window.
“I’ll take care of him, Jack, don’t worry.”
“But he won’t talk.”
“Jack, he can’t, okay. He needs to use his hands to be able to communicate and
since they are tied to the chair, there isn’t a thing the man can do. But
that’s not your problem, come on, I’ll take you back to the clinic and the
doctor can give you your pills and you can lie down for a while. I’ll take care
of him, you have nothing to worry
about.”
Bill closed the distance and carefully put
his hand on Jack’s shoulder, turning him to the door.
For a moment Jack resisted, but when their
eyes met again, Jack saw that eternal concern on Bill’s face and he followed
the guiding hands without further hesitation.
~~~
The doctor knew what they were there for
and he helped Jack onto one of the beds at once, handing him his teddy bear
before reaching for the syringe.
“A little bee sting, Jack, you know there’s
nothing to be afraid of, right.”
Jack nodded bravely but hissed at the sting
of the needle.
“Okay, lie down now, it’s okay.”
Jack stretched out on the bed, cuddling his
bear in his arm but reaching for the bedside table with his other.
He couldn’t reach it though and he moaned
softly, tears forming in his eyes almost at once.
Bill came up to him and picked up what Jack
was reaching for.
“Be a good boy now, Jack, and get some
rest.” Bill said softly as he presented the object to Jack.
He nodded quickly and sucked the pacifier
between his lips, sucking on it with a passion and closing his eyes, cuddling
his teddy even closer to him and tucking his head into the pillow.
“Sweet dreams, Jackie boy.” Bill said,
caressing Jack’s hair for a moment.
He turned and left with a heavy sigh when
Jack’s breathing leveled out.
What were they going to do with him?
He was such a good agent, but the moment he
touched alcohol, even just a sip of it, he lost touch with reality.
He sighed again and went to holding,
releasing the man Jack had been interrogating, offering him a change of clothes
to replace the ones that had been cut to pieces and their deepest apology.
It would be yet another law-suit they would
have to deal with.
The end!
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