Ep.#6 - "Head of the Dragon" (The Frontiers Saga) (5 page)

“I will discover their fears and use them to extract the information we need,” Mister Dumar explained.

Jessica stared at him for a moment, then looked at Tug. After a moment, she looked back at Dumar.

“I swear, no harm will come to them,” Dumar promised.

“I get to be there,” Jessica insisted.

“You do not trust me?” Mister Dumar challenged.

“No, actually, I don’t,” she admitted. “But don’t take it personally. I don’t trust most people.”

“Do you trust me?” Tug asked.

“You, I do trust. But I still have to be there.”

“Very well,” Mister Dumar agreed, “but you must promise not to interfere. If the prisoners believe they have a sympathetic person in the room that might intervene on their behalf, it will strengthen their resolve.”

“It won’t be my first interrogation,” Jessica stated as she strode off toward the exit.
It will be my second,
she thought.

* * *

Mister Dumar calmly entered the interrogation room, followed by a man dressed in a lab coat, Tug, and Jessica. The four Ta’Akar noblemen, including the captain of the Loranoi, sat in a row on the opposite side of the secured table, their hands and feet securely fastened to the arms and legs of the bolted down chairs in which they sat. Dumar scanned their faces briefly in passing, taking note that, while the first three noblemen appeared somewhat nervous, the Loranoi’s commanding officer did not, or at least he was keeping his apprehension well hidden.

Tug and Jessica took their positions standing against the far wall beside the exit. As he began to unpack the utility bag carried in by the man in the lab coat, Mister Dumar began to speak calmly to the prisoners in their native language of Takaran, with Tug translating every word in a barely audible whisper for Jessica as the interrogation began.

“Gentlemen,” Dumar began as he set an electronic device on the table facing away from the prisoners, “I regret that circumstances do not allow us the time needed for a normal interrogation.”

The man in the lab coat placed several electrodes onto the head and neck of the first, most junior of the four prisoners, connecting them to leads that came from the electronic device Mister Dumar had set up on the table.

“I usually enjoy the process immensely,” Dumar continued as he opened up a medical kit and withdrew two vials and two pneumo-jet syringes. “Unfortunately, due to the dispatch of your new, ZPED equipped communications drone, time is of the essence.” Dumar had not yet looked at any of the men directly as he had spoken. Instead, he had focused his attention on the preparation of the pneumatic syringes. Finished with his task, he looked up at the row of prisoners, his eyes fixing on the one on the left to which the electrodes were currently attached. “We shall begin with you,” he stated calmly.

“I am Ensign Garamond Dentone, of the house of Dentone,” the first prisoner volunteered in earnest, “son of Garrick Dentone, lord of the…”

“I care not who you are,” Dumar interrupted with an obvious degree of irritation, “nor from which noble lineage you hail.” Dumar placed the pneumo-jet syringe against the prisoner’s neck, moving it until the positioning light changed from red to green. “I only care about the number, position, and strength of the ships in the imperial fleet, and what ships, if any, have been equipped with the new zero-point energy device.” Dumar pressed the button on the syringe. There was an almost inaudible hiss as the pneumo-jet syringe delivered its payload into the prisoner’s external jugular vein.

“What was that?” Ensign Dentone demanded. “What did you give me? I demand to know…”

“There is no need to make demands, Ensign,” Mister Dumar stated. “I have just injected you with a rather fast acting poison,” he explained as he walked around the table and placed the syringe down. “You now have three, maybe four minutes before it begins to take effect.” Dumar looked the prisoner over in a glance, adding, “In your case, perhaps four. You do seem a bit
over-nourished
.” Dumar almost smiled as he pointed at the other syringe on the table. “This syringe contains the antidote, which acts just as quickly if not more so. Again, in your case, even slower with your additional mass.” Dumar set the syringe down and looked the prisoner in his eyes. “Tell me what I want to know, and you will have your antidote.”

“But I don’t know anything,” the ensign insisted. “I’m just a sensor operator. You probably know more about the imperial fleet than I do.”

“How many ships already have the ZPED installed?” Dumar asked.

“I don’t know!”

Dumar looked at the screen of the electronic device, as if the young ensign’s answer were being tested. He turned his head toward Jessica and Tug, casting a disappointed look their way.

Jessica held her ground, not yielding to the temptation to intervene. However, Mister Dumar had promised not to harm any of the prisoners, and Tug had sworn that Mister Dumar would keep his promise. It had to be a bluff.

Dumar turned back to the ensign. His color had grown pale, and he had begun to perspire. “How many ships are currently in the Takaran home system?”

“I don’t know! We’ve been on patrol for three months! How would I know that?”

“How many were stationed there when you left?”

“I don’t remember! Oh God!” The ensign was sweating even worse than before, and his skin was beginning to take on an ashen hue as he fidgeted in his seat, trying in vain to wiggle out of his restraints. “Please, you have to believe me!”

Dumar again looked at the electronic device. “I’d love to do just that, Ensign, but I’m afraid my little electronic friend here tells me otherwise.”

“Please, give me the antidote!” the ensign pleaded.

“Tell me how many ships there are!” Dumar demanded.

“I……I……uh…” The ensign began to look around the room as if he had forgotten where he was. Without warning, his torso convulsed once, tightening up suddenly, and his head flipped backward with his jaw clenched tightly closed. His breathing quickened and all the color seemed to drain from his face and hands. His body convulsed several more times, after which he went limp, sliding down in his chair, his restraints preventing him from falling all the way down to the floor.

The prisoners next to him continued to stare straight ahead, not wanting to look, not wanting to witness what was bound to be repeated with them.

Jessica started to move forward, but Tug’s hand on her arm closed tightly, communicating his objections.

“Trust him, Jess,” Tug whispered, “as I do.”

She watched, still not having lost her composure, as Mister Dumar removed the electrodes from the first prisoner’s now still body, being careful to avoid the saliva now oozing from the ensign’s mouth. He sniffed the air, his face cringing at the foul aroma. “Uh oh,” he stated, “it seems our young ensign’s final act was to lose control of his bodily fluids.” He sniffed the air again. “Perhaps his solids as well, eh?” he added with a lilt. “Most embarrassing, but then again, I guess that is to be expected.”

“You cannot do this,” the next prisoner objected as Dumar attached the electrodes to his head and neck.

“Oh, but I can,” Mister Dumar insisted. His voice was so relaxed, it appeared as if he were enjoying himself. He picked up the syringe with the poison from the table and injected it into the next prisoner’s external jugular vein. “And I will, until one of you tells me what I want to know.” Dumar set the syringe back down, picking up the one with the antidote. “Your turn, Lieutenant. How many ships have had the ZPED installed?”

“There were eleven ships in the Takaran system when we departed,” the lieutenant immediately answered.

“Lieutenant!” the commander, who was the next prisoner over, objected.

Dumar looked at the electronic device again, then turned to the third prisoner and smiled. “Nice try! You almost had me convinced. But surely, it cannot be that easy to extract information from a Takaran nobleman. After all, you are honorable men, loyal to the empire and to your leader, Caius the Great, are you not?”

“I swear to you, I am telling the truth!” the lieutenant insisted. He, too, was beginning to get pale and sweaty.

“How many ships are currently using a ZPED?”

“There was only one, the Campaglia. But she was destroyed in the battle of Taroa. The Avendahl was just arriving for her refit when we left.”

Dumar looked at the electronic device’s screen on the table and once again shook his head in dismay. “Do you really think me a fool? Do you truly believe I am so easily deceived?”

“I am not lying; I swear it! To the best of my knowledge, I have spoken only truths!” The lieutenant suddenly became pale, broke out in a cold sweat, and then vomited. A moment later, he too was limp, hanging to one side of his chair and held in place only by his restraints, the smell of his urine and feces being added to that of the first prisoner to fall.

“It is so difficult to get the correct dosing with this poison,” Mister Dumar said to Tug. “Clearly, this man was in much better physical condition than the previous one.” His face seemed unaffected by the acts he had committed or by the two men that had just fallen victim to his poisons.

“This isn’t working,” Jessica mumbled.

“Please,” Tug began to object.

“No, this is wrong.”

“Jessica, please,” Tug pleaded.

“No, this stops now!” Jessica ordered.

Dumar quickly grabbed the pneumo-jet syringe and moved behind the third prisoner. “This does not end, not until we get the information we need!”

“You cannot simply kill indiscriminately this way!” Jessica demanded.

“These people have killed thousands, perhaps millions, in the last few months alone!” Dumar argued. “I will kill them all one by one if I must. I will get answers!” He injected the third man with the poison.

“Jesus!” Jessica exclaimed, turning from side to side. “Nathan’s gonna have my ass for this!” She turned to Tug. “You, you son of a bitch, you promised this wasn’t going to happen!”

“How many ships are in the Takaran system,” Dumar asked the third prisoner.

The third prisoner, a commander, looked Dumar calmly in the eyes. “There were eleven ships in the Takaran system when we left nearly three months ago. The Avendahl was just beginning her refit. The Campaglia took just under four months to complete hers, and the Avendahl is identical in design to the Campaglia, so I suspect it will take the same amount of time to complete the Avendahl’s refit. That is all I know; I swear. Now please give me the antidote. I do not wish to die.”

“Give me the makeup of the fleet in the Takaran system,” Dumar ordered.

“Give him the antidote, Dumar!” Jessica ordered.

“Besides the Avendahl, I am not sure. Maybe two cruisers and seven frigates.”

“That’s ten, not eleven!” Dumar objected.

“Give him the fucking antidote now!” Jessica repeated.

“NO!” Dumar shouted.

Jessica drew her sidearm and pointed it at Mister Dumar’s head. “Give it to him, or I’ll splatter your fucking head across the wall!” She quickly stepped to her left, getting clear of Tug as she sensed him trying to position himself to respond. “Make like a statue, Tug,” she threatened, “or so help me, I’ll drop you as well!”

The third prisoner began to convulse as his color left his face. A moment later, he too was limp and leaking bodily fluids.

“God damn it, Dumar!” Jessica swore. “You promised me no harm would come to them!”

“I was doing what must be done!” Dumar argued fervently. “Brutality is the only thing these people understand!”

“Jesus, even a first year cadet knows this isn’t the way to get good intel from a prisoner!”

“Why do you care so much about them!” Dumar wondered.

“Because they’re humans, you dumbass, just like us!”

“They would not afford you the same respect!”

“That’s it!” Jessica decided. “I’m placing the both of you under arrest! We’ll let the captain sort this shit out,” she said, waving her gun, gesturing for Mister Dumar to head for the exit with Tug.

“No, we must finish the interrogation!”

“He’s right,” the captain of the Loranoi stated in perfect Angla.

Jessica looked at the last remaining prisoner, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

“I said you should finish the interrogation,” the fourth prisoner stated calmly. “But there is no need to continue with this charade. I assure you, I have every intention of giving my full cooperation. I will give you any information I possess.”

Jessica still looked confused, her gun hand lowering slightly. “What the fuck?” She looked at Dumar. He neither smiled nor frowned. However, one eyebrow did raise slightly. Tug was the one that was smiling. “These guys aren’t dead, are they?”

“I did not break my promise; they are not harmed,” Mister Dumar assured her. “They may have a few bruises on their wrists, and they will be somewhat embarrassed by their soiled uniforms, but they will suffer no permanent damage.”

Jessica holstered her weapon. Inside, she was furious at their deception, although part of her admired how well it had been played. They had even used her to complete the deception, knowing that she would eventually react. It didn’t work, of course, but it was still well played. More importantly, they were going to get their intel and possibly even more than they had hoped.

“I am curious, Captain,” Dumar said to the prisoner. “How did you know this was all a ruse?”

“Those men were telling the truth. If that device you kept looking at is supposed to be some type of lie detector, it is unbelievably ineffective. Besides, an intelligence officer for the Corinari would know that only an officer of command rank, such as myself, would have the type of information that you desire. So it makes sense that you would use these lesser officers as pawns in an attempt to frighten me into cooperation.”

“You could have just told us you were willing to cooperate from the beginning. You could have spared their suffering.”

“Simple logic, really,” the Loranoi’s captain explained. “If any of those men ever made it back to Takara and told command I cooperated with the enemy, my family would lose everything.”

“You let them think they were dying,” Jessica objected. “You let them shit and piss all over themselves.”