Cliff Ryder - The Ties That Bind

"I'd rather stand, if it's okay with you," Jason said.

"Not really," the Russian replied. He lashed out with one fist, and in spite of his size, the man was also gifted with surprising speed. Jason didn't have time to duck as the fist crashed into the side of his head, dropping him to his knees and filling his skull with a faint buzzing sound.

He felt himself lifted into the air and set on the metal folding chair. He shook his head to clear it. "Wow," he said. "You don't play light, do you?"

"I am Boris Ambros," the Russian said. "In Moscow, I am called the Siberian Bear."

"If the shoe fits…" Jason muttered.

"Yes, indeed," Boris said. "So, Mr. Siku, I want to reach an understanding with you. You are fluent in my language, so we will speak in the mother tongue. If you speak in English, I will break one of your fingers. Do it a second time…" he nodded in Tina's direction "…and I will break one of hers. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," Jason replied in Russian. "We have an understanding."

"Good," he said. "Now we can begin." He moved to stand closer to Jason, a slight smile on his face.

"I'm breathless with anticipation," Jason said.

The Russian laughed once more. "It is good that you have a sense of humor. We shall see if you still have it when we are finished here." He didn't wait for a reply, but dived right in. "You are Jason Siku, and you are a spy, sent here by your government. There is no question about this."

"I already told your men, my name is Doe. John Doe. I am not a spy, but a traveling salesman. I sell high-end personal submarines to the wealthy Inuit people along the coast here. Don't you know they're actually loaded with cash?" Conjuring up some saliva, he spit on the floor, barely missing the toe of the Russian's boots. "Can I get a drink of water? The standard of care in your cells is horrible."

Once more, the meaty fist lashed out, this time slamming into his jaw. Jason felt himself come out of the chair for a moment before he crashed to the floor in a crumpled heap. A groan escaped him as Boris picked him up again and set him back in the chair. It took all of his strength to not fall out of it again.

"You are Jason Siku, and you are a spy, sent here by your government. There is no question about this," Boris stated again. "They will not come for you. They never do."

Since he hadn't asked a question, Jason didn't bother with a reply. He knew what was coming and that he'd better start conserving his strength. When the silence stretched on for another minute or so, Boris said, "Good, you are learning."

He turned to Tina. "Your man is strong," he said to her. "And smart. See how he saves his energy? In time, I will break him. Then…I will break you."

That snapped Jason out of his stupor. "She doesn't know a damn thing," he said. "Why not stay where the action is?"

"I am already aware that she knows more than she has told you," Boris said. "I had one of my men run her fingerprints. It is interesting to me how a woman so young can have two identities. We will explore that later, I assure you."

Stunned, Jason said nothing. Had he been wrong about her all along? Who was she really?

Boris repeated his stock phrase once more. "You are Jason Siku, and you are a spy, sent here by your government. There is no question about this." He stretched his hands, cracking his knuckles. "You will tell me which agency you work for and you will tell me everything you have learned, and when we are done, you will tell me anything else I want to know."

Glaring into the man's eyes, Jason said, "Why don't you untie me? If you can beat me in a fair fight, I'll tell you everything you've ever wanted to know and more."

"Why should I?" Boris asked. "You will tell me anyway, and this way, the only blood on my clothes is yours."

"You're sure about that?" Jason asked. Even as the words left his lips, he lunged forward, snapping a kick at the man's knee. He felt it connect and Boris actually rocked slightly as the knee started to give.

But the angle was wrong and Jason didn't have enough momentum to break it or dislocate it. Before he could try another move, from his half-kneeling position, Boris sucker punched him in the solar plexus, and the air whooshed out of his lungs in a rush. Coming upright, the Russian followed up with an uppercut that took Jason directly under the chin, knocking him backward and half-senseless.

This time, the groan that escaped his lips was louder.

"Playtime is now over," Boris said, lifting him once more. "Now we do it slow, instead of nice and fast."

Before Jason could respond, the Russian slammed him down hard onto a steel table. From far away, he heard Tina gasp in shared pain. Boris quickly used leather straps on his ankles, then cut the rope tying his hands and strapped them down tightly, too.

His air was finally coming back and Jason said, "Normally, I prefer to do it slow, but are you sure we can't go back to the nice and fast way?" Even as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. He'd spoken in English.

Boris didn't bother with a reply, but simply reached out and snatched the pinky finger of his left hand and broke it like a winter-dry twig. Jason hissed in pain.

"That is the first time," Boris said. "You have lots of fingers left. So does she."

Jason knew it was useless. The mission was toast and sooner or later, he'd break. "Fuck you, Bear Boy," he snarled, returning to Russian. "You look more like a cub to me."

That did the trick. The Russian roared in anger and drove his massive fist into Jason's rib cage. Bracing for the impact did little to make it better, and he felt at least one rib, maybe two, crack beneath the onslaught.

Wheezing, he said, "Are you just going to beat me up? When are you going to start asking questions, maybe using all those tools you've got there?"

Boris took a deep breath. "Those tools are for someone else," he said, calm once more. "First question. What agency do you work for?"

"Several," Jason said, trying to make it sound like an admission.

"Which ones, then?"

"Let's see…there's P.E.T.A.," he said. "I just hate seeing animals mistreated or eaten. And mere's the V.H.F.T.S., that's the Vegetables Have Feelings, Too, Society, and then…"

He didn't manage to get the last one out as Boris once again punched him in the ribs. Nothing broke this time, but once more he was without air.

"Which agency do you work for?" Boris said again.

Trying to somehow swallow enough air, Jason tried to reply and found he couldn't.

From across the room, Tina said, "I can tell you that." Her Russian was flawless, he noticed.

She was trying to buy him time to rest, and get his wind back, he hoped, and she was also wrecking what little plan he had. If he made Boris angry enough to beat him unconscious, they might just toss them back in their cells and try again later.

"Tina, no," he said. "Don't."

"Please continue," Boris said, moving to stand before her. "You do not like to see your man mistreated."

"You're right, I don't," she said. "He told me who he works for. I don't work for them. Never have. Can't stand the government, you know?" Her voice tone and pitch had suddenly changed into full-on, idiot-blonde mode. "I'd rather be shopping or going to the mall or…"

The slap sounded like a rifle shot in the small room and Tina's voice was immediately silent.

"I prefer not to hurt women," Boris said, his voice low and deep. "But for you, I make a special exception." He slapped her again, and Jason almost felt it himself.

"You are Tina Kanut," Boris said. "At least, that is one of your identities. We do not think you work for anyone anymore. Who does your man work for?"

By craning his neck, Jason could see her hanging on the wall. Her head was lolling and blood trickled from where her lip had been split. Boris moved to the table and picked up a glass of water, then crossed back to Tina. "Here, drink this," he said. "It will help clear your head."