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‘England? Bah! No Englishman would be crazy enough in his head to go into a war zone!’
‘Just checking.’
‘Trust me - you’re not the first imperial spy I have caught in my net! I know the look! Small, slimy, greasy-looking fellows with shifty eyes and-’
‘Hey!’ I had to admit this fellow was getting my dander up. Being called fat was one thing. But this? This was below the belt! ‘No need for that! Why don’t you just start and torture me already?’
Come to think of it, that would also happen below the belt. But what the heck! I’d better get it over with.
The officer took a step closer, his eyes burning with patriotic zeal. ‘You won’t feel so cocky once we’re through with you!’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Oh yes, indeed!’ Stepping back again, the colonel beckoned to the man with the bloody gloves, who in turn stepped forward, holding out a - wonder of wonders - knife. The colonel took it, lovingly running his index finger along the blade. ‘Excellent,’ he whispered. Then he turned to me.
‘You see, my friend,
there are a myriad of ways of extracting information from prisoners. A thousand refined methods exist to cause the human body a maximum of pain. Dozens of experts have written treatises upon the subject, and infinite variations have been developed to suit any and every situation.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘However, there is one method which, above all others, will ensure that a man spills every last one of his secrets. A method that tortures not only a man’s body, but also his pride, and hope for the future.’
Lowering the knife, he slid it down over the front of my tailcoat, down over my belt and between my legs, until he reached a certain point between my thighs, where my trousers had already been severely mistreated.
‘Try to guess of what I speak,’ he hissed with diabolical menace.
‘Oh, I think somehow I’ve got a pretty good idea.’
‘Ha! Then cower in fear, for I have no mercy for spies and other vermin!’
Cocking my head, I looked up at him. ‘You know…you rebel fellows should try working out that little tiff you have with the government. If you’d got to know each other, I think you’d find you are a lot more alike than you probably believe.’
‘Ha! I am impervious to your imperialist propaganda!’
‘How nice for you.’
‘Speak, or suffer the consequences of your actions, royalist scum!’
He pressed the tip of the knife down.
‘Ahrgl arghl argh,’ I said, dutifully.
‘Ha! Now that you feel the pain, you’re not so cocky anymore, are you?’
I smiled up at him. ‘I’m not quite sure. Could you let me feel a little more?’
The man’s face grew grim, but there was a glint of respect in his eyes. ‘You are a brave man!’
‘Dear me. I have no idea why everyone seems to be labouring under this misapprehension.’
‘But no matter how brave a man is, he cannot live through this! We will break you yet! Carlos!’
‘Yes, Sir?’ The man with the bloody gloves saluted.
‘Take over from here! I must go to the refectory and see what the men have found in their baggage. Maybe that will give us a clue as to what these spies are after. I shall expect a full report when I return.’
‘You may rely on me, Sir!’
