Read Online Tiger by the Tail by John Ringo, Ryan Sear - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Ringo, Ryan Sear
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mouth.
There was a surprised splutter, then a hideous gurgling sound interspersed with muted, choking noises as she was forced to ingest liquid instead of air. Mike gave it a ten-count, then stopped, watching as she coughed and choked. There was a gagging sound, and water sprayed out through the cloth as she tried to clear her lungs. More Cantonese could be heard through her sobs.
“What do you want? Why are you doing this to me?” Vanner translated in an emotionless tone. “Other stuff nonessential. Not enjoying this, boss.”
“Got it.” Mike gave her a few seconds to catch her breath, then bent down to her ear again.
“All you have to do is answer my questions. Why are you here? Why did the pirate take you with him?”
“I—I don’t know—I’m telling you, I’m just a whore—”
“Wrong answer.” Mike secured the cloth and began pouring again. This time he got to eight before she choked, spluttered, then started to convulse.
“She’s vomiting! Turn her!”
The two Keldara lifted the chair, and Mike moved the table away and cleared the cloth so they could flip her face-down. A thin stream of bile drooled from her mouth, and she gasped for air, hanging by her restraints from the chair, her wet hair hanging in front of her face.
Mike let her go until she had calmed down, and was quietly sobbing.
“Second part,” Mike told Vanner. His intel chief displayed more phonetic Cantonese on his laptop as MIke squatted down. He pushed the curtain of hair aside to look into her face.
“That is awful, isn’t it? All that water . . . it feels like you are about to drown. All you have to do to make it stop is tell me what you are doing here, and it will, I promise. Just answer my questions, and this will all end.”
Her teeth chattering, the woman gasped out a short, choppy reply.
“I don’t know what you want,” Vanner translated. “Please stop . . .”
“I am afraid we cannot do that.” Mike stood and motioned for the Keldara to set her back on the table. “How’s her oxygen level?” He asked.
“Steady at ninety-three percent,” the medic replied.
“Let’s go again.” The cloth was placed over her face, which was a bit harder this time, as she tried to whip her head back and forth until Adams restrained her. In return, Mike gave her a fifteen-count of water this time. When he let up, her convulsions were much harder, her arms and legs straining against her restraints as she flopped on the chair.
“Shit, she’s defibrillating! Let her go, boys.”
“No heartbeat detected . . .” the box chimed in slightly Swedish-accented English. “Charging . . . Stand clear . . . Defibrillating . . .”
The woman’s back arched as the current shot through her, then she collapsed back on the chair, screaming as she expelled the liquid from her lungs.
“—ENGLISH! I SPEAK ENGLISH! JUST STOP, PLEASE!”
Mike nodded to Vanner and the others.
“See how easy that was?” He wiped her face off. “So, you’ve understood everything we’ve been saying?”
“Yes . . . I learned at nun school . . . in Pengmankat.”
“If you don’t want more, tell me what I want to know.”
“I do not know what is in the box, I swear!” the girl gasped, clearly trying not to cry. “Yeung Tony was told about it from a man he met in Phuket. The man told him it was being smuggled north, and if he could get his hands on it, the man would pay well, more money than Tony had ever seen. Tony found out what ship it was on and sent his men to grab it. They did, and he was about to contact his buyer when you people showed up and started killing everybody.”
“And you are absolutely sure you do not know what’s inside the box?” Mike casually raised the canteen over her head again.
“NO! No, please, I swear!”
“Who’s the buyer?” Mike asked then raised the canteen again as she paused.
“A dealer named Arun Than. Yeung was to sail to Hong Kong once he had the box, and Than would contact him to set up a
There was a surprised splutter, then a hideous gurgling sound interspersed with muted, choking noises as she was forced to ingest liquid instead of air. Mike gave it a ten-count, then stopped, watching as she coughed and choked. There was a gagging sound, and water sprayed out through the cloth as she tried to clear her lungs. More Cantonese could be heard through her sobs.
“What do you want? Why are you doing this to me?” Vanner translated in an emotionless tone. “Other stuff nonessential. Not enjoying this, boss.”
“Got it.” Mike gave her a few seconds to catch her breath, then bent down to her ear again.
“All you have to do is answer my questions. Why are you here? Why did the pirate take you with him?”
“I—I don’t know—I’m telling you, I’m just a whore—”
“Wrong answer.” Mike secured the cloth and began pouring again. This time he got to eight before she choked, spluttered, then started to convulse.
“She’s vomiting! Turn her!”
The two Keldara lifted the chair, and Mike moved the table away and cleared the cloth so they could flip her face-down. A thin stream of bile drooled from her mouth, and she gasped for air, hanging by her restraints from the chair, her wet hair hanging in front of her face.
Mike let her go until she had calmed down, and was quietly sobbing.
“Second part,” Mike told Vanner. His intel chief displayed more phonetic Cantonese on his laptop as MIke squatted down. He pushed the curtain of hair aside to look into her face.
“That is awful, isn’t it? All that water . . . it feels like you are about to drown. All you have to do to make it stop is tell me what you are doing here, and it will, I promise. Just answer my questions, and this will all end.”
Her teeth chattering, the woman gasped out a short, choppy reply.
“I don’t know what you want,” Vanner translated. “Please stop . . .”
“I am afraid we cannot do that.” Mike stood and motioned for the Keldara to set her back on the table. “How’s her oxygen level?” He asked.
“Steady at ninety-three percent,” the medic replied.
“Let’s go again.” The cloth was placed over her face, which was a bit harder this time, as she tried to whip her head back and forth until Adams restrained her. In return, Mike gave her a fifteen-count of water this time. When he let up, her convulsions were much harder, her arms and legs straining against her restraints as she flopped on the chair.
“Shit, she’s defibrillating! Let her go, boys.”
“No heartbeat detected . . .” the box chimed in slightly Swedish-accented English. “Charging . . . Stand clear . . . Defibrillating . . .”
The woman’s back arched as the current shot through her, then she collapsed back on the chair, screaming as she expelled the liquid from her lungs.
“—ENGLISH! I SPEAK ENGLISH! JUST STOP, PLEASE!”
Mike nodded to Vanner and the others.
“See how easy that was?” He wiped her face off. “So, you’ve understood everything we’ve been saying?”
“Yes . . . I learned at nun school . . . in Pengmankat.”
“If you don’t want more, tell me what I want to know.”
“I do not know what is in the box, I swear!” the girl gasped, clearly trying not to cry. “Yeung Tony was told about it from a man he met in Phuket. The man told him it was being smuggled north, and if he could get his hands on it, the man would pay well, more money than Tony had ever seen. Tony found out what ship it was on and sent his men to grab it. They did, and he was about to contact his buyer when you people showed up and started killing everybody.”
“And you are absolutely sure you do not know what’s inside the box?” Mike casually raised the canteen over her head again.
“NO! No, please, I swear!”
“Who’s the buyer?” Mike asked then raised the canteen again as she paused.
“A dealer named Arun Than. Yeung was to sail to Hong Kong once he had the box, and Than would contact him to set up a
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