Making It

His desperate wish that this had all been a dream was crushed when he woke up to a throbbing in his temple and a sharp pain in his side. The room was bare Dark walls matched a dark floor. The one window in the room was barred and gave no warming light through it's small view to the outside world.

Jonah fought his instincts to lay back down and sat up. He was shaky and his stomach hurt like mad. He crawled over to the wall and leaned against it, using its support instead of relying on his own weakened strength. He drew his knees up to his chest and had the insane desire to cry. He tried to remember the last time he cried.

When Grandpa died. He came home for a couple weeks. He remembered wiping the mascara lines off his mother’s face and walking her up to the casket. Shannon had been there too. He had felt guilty for noticing the way her black dress clung to her hips. Her dark hair stood out in sharp contrast to the calla Lilly’s at the back of the room. She grabbed him in a hug, and he smelled her perfume while crying for his grandfather.

His body was screaming in pain, everything hurt. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Jonah held on tight to the way she looked, smelled, felt in his arms. God he missed her.

Jonah knew that he would never give in. It wasn't his nature. Besides, why would he risk an entire mission? There was not enough pain in the world to make him betray his friends, not enough.

Jonah heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps and cringed, moving farther away from the door. Light became visible as the door opened.

"Good morning” Nine sounded cheerfully polite, as if he was a maid begging entrance for room service. "Did you sleep well? How's the cot? Satisfactory?" He placed a bowl on the stone floor by Jonah.

"Brought you some breakfast.” Jonah’s stomach grumbled, and Nine chuckled. He waited, but Jonah made no move toward the food.

"You know you're hungry, eat. I didn't poison it." Jonah refused to obey Nine in any command. He sat there and stared at the blank window.

"Jonah," Nine began, sidling closer to him. "My job is to break you, make you give up whatever information the DGSE wants. That is going to be hard to accomplish if you don't eat. You see, if you don't eat, then you die, and that would be a shame. So, eat up."

Jonah laughed to himself. He had no intentions of obeying this man.

"If you refuse to eat this food,” Nine stared at Jonah. "I will tie you down, pry your mouth open with a jaw clamp and let it slide down your throat." Jonah still refused to move, yet his swollen eyes showed a hint of fear.

"I promise you will not find that a pleasant experience. Do you know what a feeding tube feels like when it scrapes your esophagus?” Nine's voice was angry. “Just eat the food.” Two forces battled inside the soldier. Eating would mean admitting defeat, but not eating meant death, something he wasn’t exactly ready for yet. He reached a shaky hand for the bowl, but the metal was yanked away quickly.

“You didn’t say please.” Their eyes met. Two men, fighting for the upper hand. “Ask nicely, and I will allow you to eat.” Jonah pushed his lips together as tight as he could. There was no way he was begging for anything from him.

"Don't try my patience,” Nine looked rather cross. "Ask for it." Jonah cocked his head to the side and folded his arms. Not gonna happen.

"Child!” Jonah first heard the blow, fist connecting with jaw, then he felt his lip split, the blood leaking down his chin.

You'll never get me, never break me, never have me. I win.

Nine placed the bowl on the floor beside Jonah, who was feeling rather pleased with himself.

Try it again. Jonah thought. Come on, see if you can make me beg.

"I'll give you a few minutes to finish your food,” Nine exited the room, letting in a surprisingly warm draft of air. Jonah mused over the whereabouts of his fellow colleagues while he choked down cold mush.

Aadan Carter had been Jonah's friend ever since they were stationed together at Versailles, three years ago. They were close, and if there was one person who would never give up fighting for Jonah, Aadan was it. Hopefully, he had reported the coordinates to their Lt. McCabe. Hurrah for the cavalry.

"Are we done yet?" Nine asked. He waltzed into the room. As usual Jonah refused to answer; he just sat there, staring into Nine's black eyes, perfectly motionless. "Ready for the days festivities?"

Jonah thought about what would happen to Nine when he was rescued. More specifically, he thought about what he would do the sadistic jerk.

"Something funny?" Jonah hadn’t realized he was smirking.

"Before this day is up, I promise, I'll have you talking."

Don't bet on it. Nine kicked the food bowl out into the hall.

"Get up,” he commanded, standing by the door. Jonah, still spitting fire, refused to move. "Don't play coy with me." Nine moved closer to Jonah, now standing right above him.

"How are those ribs?" Nine aimed a kick, but Jonah rolled out from foot's reach. In a breath Jonah was on his feet and heading toward the door.

"Nowhere to go Jonah." Nine remarked calmly, leaning against the wall. Jonah was at the door when another figure stepped in his way; a huge bulking man grabbed Jonah around the throat and lifted him off his feet, pressing his back against the wall. He could feel the hard stone wall pressing into his shoulder blades as his hands closed over the powerful arm and tried in vain to release the death grip from his neck. Black spots flashed in front of his eyes, throat constricting violently, feet scrambling on the wall, trying to find support.

"Enough!" Nine said, and the big man dropped Jonah. "No one touches him but me, understand?" The man sneered at Jonah and left. Jonah wrapped his hands around his throat, trying to massage back some feeling.

Nine looked angry. "Idiot boy! You think you can run away from me and not get punished? He almost killed you, and I almost let him!" Jonah's throat was sore, that man had a tight grip. Nine removed something from his pocket and moved towards Jonah.

"Open your mouth,” he demanded.

Not near done, Jonah did nothing. Nine had enough, he sank his fist into Jonah's stomach, causing his broken rib to shift and Jonah to groan in pain, doubling over. While in this position, Nine forced a small pill in the boy’s mouth. One knee constantly pressed into his abdomen, Nine squeezed his nose shut while slamming Jonah’s lips closed.

"Once this hits your stomach you will throw up everything you've ever eaten. If you can't behave yourself, then I'll have to withhold privileges, like food." As he was talking, Jonah felt his stomach lurch and twist in ways he never knew possible. Nine smiled as he walked out of the room. Minutes passed and the walls started to spin.

Jonah barely had time for one coherent thought before the contents of his stomach were emptied, again and again. He felt as if there was nothing in him, and yet he was still retching. By the time his stomach was empty, Jonah was weak, shaking and sweating profusely. All the color had drained from his tan face, and his eyes were glassy. Nine came back and laughed at the sight before him.

"Come Jonah,” Nine commanded, snapping chains on his wrists and pulling the boy to his feet. It hurt too much to walk upright, so he bent over, desperately trying to find relief. When they reached the end of their destination, Jonah tried to pull back but was yanked into the room. As much as he wanted to be strong, Jonah started to shake; he didn’t want to hurt anymore. This was turning out to be harder than he thought.

"On the counter.” Nine forced the boy on the metal and smirked as the touch of cold on his bare back took the breath from Jonah's lungs. He snapped the manacles in place with lightening speed and pulled them taught. Jonah gasped softly. The chains were tight enough to break the skin and threatened to pull his arms out of socket.

"Do we really need to go through this again Jonah? Just tell me where your camp is!" Jonah couldn't resist, he met Nine's eyes and spit in his face. Nine raised his hand as if to strike him. He hesitated when Jonah closed his eyes, anticipating the blow. Instead of hitting him, Nine ran a hand over the smooth face. Jonah turned his head, uncomfortable at the sudden change in Nine's behavior.

"Look at me,” he demanded grabbing Jonah's jaw and forcing his face. "Do you like this? Do you?" He slammed Jonah's head into the table, and the boy saw stars flash across the ceiling.

"Do you enjoy this pain?" Jonah refused to say anything, but his mind was screaming. Nine released Jonah's face and massaged his chest, looking for the rib he knew he had broken the night before.

"I don't understand. I've been doing this torture thing for awhile now but it still perplexes me." He found the rib and pressed down. Jonah groaned low in his throat and clenched his teeth.

"What is the reason? Why? Is there anything really that important to go through this much pain for?" Nine snaked a hand under Jonah's head and grabbed a fistful of hair, bending his head at an uncomfortable angle. "Tell me Jonah, what's the reason for it? What is your reason for not giving in?" Nine, still forcing his head, rolled a finger under the protruding rib. Jonah fought back the desire to scream and exhaled deeply, a tear rolling down his face.

God, please, make him stop!

"Tell me Jonah, and I'll stop this, what's your reason? What's your pathetic, stupid reason for not breaking huh? Maybe to prove how macho you are, a real flag in the name of manliness. Maybe you're scared about what will happen if you do. What is it!" On the last line, Nine once again slammed Jonah's head into the counter.

Jonah's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was on the verge on unconsciousness. He whispered an answer.

"What was that?" Nine asked, genuinely pleased with the response. "What did you say Jonah?"

"Honor,” Jonah whispered louder.

"Honor,” Nine said, with amusement in his voice. "Really? A more dangerous reason than pride you know. Honor can be changed, molded into something it's not. Some may not think what you're doing is ‘honorable’ others may, it's all a matter of conjecture." Jonah was panting as Nine took a step back. “How many times have your countrymen picketed your war? How many soldiers have come home expecting praise and found persecution?” Nine laughed and smacked Jonah lightly across the cheek. “Has anyone even told you thanks?”

"It’s not about thanks.” Jonah was speaking with his full voice, and spoke every word, dripping with bitterness. "I know what honor is, always have. Maybe it's something you should read into someday."

"I don't need honor,” Nine stated matter-of-factly. "I get paid by the French. I owe them no allegiance, just my services."

"You have no allegiance to give anyone. You're a shell with nothing redeemable underneath skin."

"Ah, that's not nice Jonah,” Nine grinned. "If you think I'm bad now, wait until you get to know me better. Well, honor can't really be all that important can it?" No response from Jonah. "Oh come now, you are going to talk to me aren't you?” A pipe dripped water to the floor. Fine Jonah, let's see just how important honor is to you shall we? Get up." Nine unchained Jonah's arms and legs and forced him to his feet. His stomach was still twisting, and the sudden movement drove Jonah to the border of vomiting once again.

"This is my first time with this particular method,” Nine said as he positioned Jonah's shoulders onto the upright steel frame. "I am very anxious to find out how effective it is." Nine fastened Jonah's wrists and ankles to the frame.

"It's actually a very simple idea,” Nine commented as he attached the floating harness to Jonah's middle, snapping the metal in place. "You see, as the cage is lowered into the water, the floating harness forces the middle of the body upwards, towards the surface, while the arms and legs are being held down by the cage.”

Nine, satisfied that Jonah was securely strapped in, took his place at the controls for the cage. "Would you like to say anything before we begin?"

"You’re pathetic." Nine didn't bother with a reply, just put a smirk on his face and lowered the cage slowly into the water. The temperature of the water shocked him into clear headedness. Jonah could feel his wrists and ankles being driven to the bottom of the pool, while his middle was refusing to obey, and floating towards the surface. The discomfort quickly turned to pain.

His body was being forced into a long arch, pulling at his already sore muscles, stretching them. A rainbow of agony. He would have moaned if he wasn't submerged in water. Jonah's throat was beginning to ache with the lack of oxygen.

He used to go swimming with Shannon in the lake behind her house. She could always hold her breathe longer than him. He figured she would be his last thought as his eyes rolled back, and his lungs screamed even louder for air. Finally, Nine pulled the switch and the cage jumped upwards, out of the water. It rose so quickly that Jonah's body slammed down toward the bottom of the cage.

As soon as air was in his mouth, Jonah's head started pounding. His lungs took in great gulps of air as his head angrily throbbed. His eye sight was blurred, and the water he had swallowed rumbled threateningly in his stomach.

"Have anything to say now Jonah?"

Yea, but you really don’t want to hear it.

"Not speaking? Fine then. When you're ready to break, just yell at me in between dunks, okay?" And with that, Nine threw the switch, and once again, Jonah was thrown to the bottom of the pool. For the next hour, Jonah and Nine continued to play the game. So many times Jonah was on the verge of screaming when he came out of the water, but he held it back, somehow. He was starting to get very cold and shook uncontrollably. Exhausted and knowing he couldn't continue for very much longer, he resigned himself to death.

"Don't be a fool Jonah,” Nine stormed over to the cage. He unchained the boy and threw him to the ground beside the pool. "Just tell me where the camp is!" No answer. Nine grabbed Jonah's throat and forced his head in the water, the boy was so weak he could barely fight him off. After an eternity, Nine yanked his head back up to the surface.

"I'm not leaving here today until you tell me where it is, or you're dead. Take your pick."

Jonah looked carefully into Nine’s eyes and slowly sunk his own head back in the water, his choice obvious. Nine spread his own knees and straddled the boy lying beneath him. With his free hand he found a deep purple bruise and drove the heel of his palm into the center. Taken by surprise, Jonah screamed, drinking in a mouthful of water. Quickly, Nine dragged his head up. Jonah's stomach convulsed and he threw up, propping himself up by his forearms, too weak to rise up. Jonah saw black and knew he was gone; he heard more than felt his head hit the concrete before he blacked out.