Well, as my nano work is coming along reasonably well, (I'm at 34000 words so I'm behind, but not by too much) I've decided to post yet another chapter from my new book. Remember, it's a beta, so it's not perfect. I'll do some serious polishing before the release date.

Twisting the Knife
Some time had passed since Torrig Balder had been locked away in the isolation unit of the Core's detention level. It could have been months, or years for all he knew. He hadn't seen anyone, or anything since the moment his captors had tied him to a cold, stainless steel chair. Gradually cooking under low intensity UV lights, he could do nothing but squirm helplessly against the solid metal restraints.
They'd given him nothing to eat as of yet, and the possibility of degrading into a snaggletooth was ever present in his mind. Not that the prospect of this bothered him too much. Nothing much bothered Torrig at that point. His psyche had been shattered beyond all possible repair during his prolonged stay as the personal plaything of Ahmu. The fact that he could remember his own name, was nothing short of miraculous.
The original plan was for him to die in the explosion two weeks prior. He'd accepted it, an act of contrition for his repeated failures in service of the ancient forebear. What would Kagan say if he saw Torrig like this? Uproarious laughter perhaps, or more likely, he'd tear off Torrig's one remaining arm and beat him to a bloody pulp with it.
In the back of his mind, he wished for all of it to be over. Centuries spent in service to his ancient master, waist deep in the blood of a myriad inferior races, only to wither and die in a cell. The glorious warrior's death he'd been expecting since his bygone days as a human, now a scarcely possible pipe dream. Valhalla's doors were only open to those who died in the heat of battle. Being slow cooked in somebody's basement would not earn Torrig a seat at Odin's table.
His captors had him right where they wanted him; broken, despondent and disoriented. Jean and Natsuko had been steadily preparing their respective soldiers for the upcoming campaign in South America, but the time had come to extract what information they could from their Viking captive. Upon Natsuko's request, Dr. Stein was present as well, though she was profoundly confused as to why.
Aggressive interrogation techniques were one of Natsuko's most infamous specialties. Stein was in no way interested in watching her work. Any manner of violence made Stein uneasy, and what was to follow would almost certainly involve torture. Jakoba was not looking forward to vomiting all over her freshly pressed lab coat.
“So how should we proceed?” Stein did her best to mask the fear in her voice. A raised eyebrow from Jean informed her that she'd done a less than admirable job. An internal sigh of relief passed through Jakoba. If they knew she was terrified, perhaps she could return to the safety of her lab without witnessing an atrocity.
“He's already primed from the isolation and the lights. Let's see how he responds to some simple questions.” Natsuko's voice was stoic as can be. This situation was common place to her. Hundreds of prisoners had buckled under the pressure she was so adept at applying. Cracking each knuckle one at a time, she mulled over what would be the best way to make Torrig talk.
“You will be taking the lead I assume?” asked Stein, impatiently. Every second that passed made her discomfort more acute. Sweat was already beginning to pool at the base of her neck. She was certain that at any moment, she would begin to hyperventilate.
“No. I think you should do that Dr. Stein.” Any possibility of hyperventilation disintegrates. As anybody can tell you, to hyperventilate, one must be able to breathe. All Jakoba could do is blurt out a barely coherent response.
“Me? Why? I'm not a professional interrogator.” Natsuko turned to face Stein with a wicked smile:
“No, you aren't. But as I understand it, you are of semetic ancestry, correct?” Jakoba removed her glasses to wipe the numerous beads of sweat from her tightly furrowed brow.
“Yes. I don't see how that's going to be helpful. Isn't he a nazi?”
“Precisely doctor. Torrig hates humans, jewish humans more so. We can use that. Make it clear to him that you are the one in charge of this facility. Tell him that we all work for you. It will infuriate him to know that he's the prisoner of someone he considers to be so completely inferior. ” This was the whole reason that Natsuko had involved Dr. Stein in the first place. Some years back, Natsuko had observed how Torrig reacted to being in the same room with Jewish people. Odds were, he'd fly off the handle the instant Stein entered his cell.
“And infuriating him will make him cooperative?” Jakoba could feel the bile creeping up the back of her throat. The situation had gone from intimidating to horrifying at a pace she was not prepared for. Natsuko's unflappable countenance was not helping matters in the least either.
“Not immediately, no. It will however mess with his head quite effectively. He will exhaust any energy he has left spewing hate speech at you. Let him. When I'm confident that he's primed and ready, I'll come in and relieve you.” When Torrig was sufficiently drained, Natsuko had numerous ideas on how to encourage him to share information. Her needles had been sharpened that evening, explicitly for this interrogation.
Stein pleaded in a meek voice, her cheeks flushed beet red, “I'm not sure about this.”
Hands on hips, Natsuko reassured the nervous scientist, “You have to be sure doctor. If you show any signs of fear or weakness, he will know. Be confident, be abrasive, let him know who's boss.”
After several quiet moments of observing Torrig through the cell's tiny window, Jean joined the conversation, “Perhaps, if I went in with you doctor, it would help to allay some of your discomfort.”
Elated by the suggestion, Natsuko clapped her hands together, “Yes, that's perfect.” Wagging a finger at Jean's eye level she ordered, “Provided you keep up the facade that Dr. Stein is in command.”
The overwhelming stress of the situation aside, Stein could see the wisdom in Natsuko's intended strategy. Never one to fly in the face of solid logic, she pushed the fear to the back of her mind and said, “Alright, I'll try. I would appreciate it if you made sure to stay in between myself and Mr. Balder, Colonel.”
“Understood. Follow me in whenever you're ready.” While Stein took a few moments to steady her nerves, Jean strode quietly into the cell and took his place directly in front of Torrig. It took all the self control he could muster not to decapitate him the instant he was in arm's reach. A low lupine growl into his captive's face snapped the UV dazed vampire to attention. An attention that affixed not to the wolf, but to the human walking in behind him. Torrig took a long, deep inhale and began to chuckle.
“What have we here? Do I smell a jew?” Summoning up all her courage, Stein set about her daunting task:
“Yes indeed. My name is Jakoba Stein. There are some things my organization needs to know Mr. Balder. Things you can tell us.”
“Not a chance.” Cooperation to the degree they had expected. For the interrogation to go anywhere, there needed to be some kind of persuasion. Though she abhorred violence, Stein knew how important the information Torrig was withholding could be.
“Colonel, a little encouragement please.” Two strong punches land to the left side of Torrig's ribcage. The sounds of cracking bones carried out into the entire detention level. Coughed up blood dripping down his chin, an incredulous Torrig spat in Jean's face:
“Are you really taking orders from this pathetic little blank? Here I thought you furbags couldn't sink any lower. Guess I was wrong. Not surprising I suppose.”
“Don't talk to me, muckleech.” One hand wrapped around the throat, another gripping the hair, Jean cranked the impudent night kin's head around. When his gaze was fixed on Stein, Jean commanded, “Talk to her.” The sight of blood made Jakoba's skin crawl. In an attempt to ease her discomfort, she removed her glasses and placed them in her pocket. If there was going to be more violence, at least it would be blurry.
“As I said, we need some information from you Mr. Balder. Why don't we start with what prompted your leader to attack humanity the way he did?”
Torrig chuckled lightly at the question, “Isn't it obvious? Kagan was hungry. We all were. The war has been a satisfying experience thus far, much like Poland was back in the day.” Exactly as Natsuko had predicted, Torrig could not resist the urge to spew racial diatribe. “I seem to remember a great many Steins from my days at Auschwitz. Did you perhaps have any family under my care Jakoba?”
“Say whatever you want Mr. Balder. It won't change your situation.”
“Anything I want, eh? Where to begin?” What followed could best be described as the most fantastically delusional rant in the history of white supremecist propaganda. He railed on anything he could think of. Banking conspiracies, holocaust renunciation and the glory of eugenics were all brought up. The more he screamed, the more intense he became. Two and a half hours passed before he even stopped to take a breath. When the split second opportunity presented itself, a deeply disturbed Dr. Stein cut the speech off:
“This certainly has been an 'informative' couple of hours. I'm done with this nonsense.” As she made a bee line for the door, an amused Torrig chided her:
“Oh, please don't go Jakoba, I haven't finished yet.”
“No, you're not finished, but I'm finished with you. Don't fret Mr. Balder, we've contracted someone else to speak to you on our behalf.” With Stein retreating and Torrig exhausted from his tirade, Natsuko seized her opportunity to enter the fray. Sitting down in a chair directly in front of him, she began conducting the real interview.
“Hello Torrig. Did you miss me?”
“Masamura, you're back. I was wondering how long it would be before you showed up. What took you so long?”
“I had better things to do.” She dusted off her hands and removed the black pouch filled with envenomed needles from within her overcoat. “I'm here now Torrig. Was there anything you wanted to say to me?”
“You're a filthy, disgusting dyke and a disgrace to our race.”
“Fascinating opinion. I was hoping however, that you had things to say to me about Kagan.”
“All kinds of things. How about that he's a backstabbing, two faced, son of a whore? Or that I dedicated four hundred years to him only to be sacrificed in a fool's errand because I had one bad night?” Natsuko's eyebrows jumped up in astonishment. Such hostility towards the ancient one was generally unheard of inside Kagan's cabal.
“Sounds like you're a little bitter.”
“No shit bitch. You would be too if you were me.”
“Does that mean you're ready to talk? It's alright if you don't want to. I can think of several ways we can encourage you.” Jean fed the captive two more choice shots to the ribcage as Natsuko unfurled her pouch in her lap. On sight of her implements, Torrig let out an amused grunt. Torture didn't scare him in the least.
“Ha! Nice needles. I hate to burst your bubble, but I just spent a rather substantial span of time as the personal plaything of Ahmu. Perhaps you've heard of him? What you've got planned will feel like a kiss on the cheek compared to what I went through with the mongrels.”
“Why don't I give it a shot and see if I can't make an impression?” She had hoped he would resist the process to some extent at least. Over the years, there had been many occasions where she had just missed the chance to make Torrig suffer. Her elation at this golden opportunity was undeniable. There were a number of special acupuncture techniques she had been saving for just this situation. A needle between thumb and forefinger, she stood up and moved towards him.
“Don't bother. You want to know what Kagan is up to Masamura? Ask away. I'm through suffering in the name of that ignorant fossil.” Yet another comment against Kagan. Natsuko looked to Jean with a confused expression. Surely Torrig was trying to fake her out somehow. He was one of Kagan's most trusted generals. Jean shrugged back:
“Yes, he's speaking truth. It seems he does want to cooperate.”
“That's disappointing. I was looking forward to working him over a bit first.” The needle in hand was slid back into the pouch as a frustrated Natsuko returned to her seat. “What prompted the war?”
“Ra did. He just showed up on our doorstep one day and demanded we help him punish humanity. Naturally we obliged, as Ra's cult was the only thing preventing us from running wild to begin with.” It was a glorious day for the cabal when they learned they no longer had to fear channel reprisal. Ra and his kindred fanatics had been a constant thorn in the vampires' side since ancient times, when Kagan first encountered a fire starter.
“So Ra is in charge then? Mitsuru thought as much.” Mitsuru would be quite relieved to know she had been right all along. Some good news might help to pull her out of the depressive funk she'd been in since they lost their base of operations in Okinawa. The clan's glorious strategist had been near useless at her duties in the months since her life's first failure.
“Oh, no, no. Ra only thinks he's in control. We were only using him for our own ends.”
“Go on.”
“Kagan has been working on something big for quite some time. Problem is, to make it work, he needed slaves, a lot of them. Ra's war provided the perfect way to collect more than enough for our purposes.” Every single human captured had been collared, manacled and shipped to North Western Europe. More would be arriving every day, from all corners of the globe.
“To what end?”
“To build some sort of device. Kagan just called it his 'apparatus'. Whatever it is, it's very large and quite complex, at least a few miles in diameter. I asked him what it was for once, but he refused to explain it to me.” Torrig spat blood on the floor and snarled, “Apparently, I'm not worthy of that kind of knowledge.”
Natsuko wondered what this apparatus could be. Knowing Kagan, it was almost certainly some kind of weapon. There was no telling what kind of destruction was to come if he completed it. She made a note to send some of her best spies to investigate, but she needed to know where to start.
“Where is he building it?”
“Not sure, somewhere in Western Europe I suspect. I was shipped off to Africa before construction began.”
“What else does Kagan have planned?”
“He's particularly interested in getting his hands on your dear little wife. How is she doing by the way?” He turned his head and glared at Jean, “I would have caught her in Japan if it weren't for you and your flea bitten ilk. Your presence was an unexpected factor.” The werewolf responded with another sequence of strikes to the jaw and abdomen. What little teeth Torrig had left at the beginning of the interview laid scattered across the cell floor. The battered and beaten vampire began laughing hysterically.
“If only Ahmu's informant had shared that little tidbit of information with us, we would have been better prepared.” He rapped the knuckles of his left hand against the steel chair, “Then the roles in this little tableau would have been quite different.”
The revelation left Jean speechless for a moment. It was unthinkable that any member of Bashina's Imperium would dare lower themselves to collusion with the mongrels. He grabbed Torrig by the scruff of the neck. “Who is the informant? Give me a name.”
“Ahmu wasn't too forthcoming with sharing delicate information like that when I was in his company. He was usually too busy raping me with power tools to indulge in shop talk.” He shrugged his shoulders and laughed even louder, “The best I can tell you is that it is definitely a high ranking official, with access to the highest levels of intelligence.”
This was even worse news to Jean. Not only was there a traitor in their midst, but a traitor in Bashina's inner circle. Their upcoming mission in South America would have to be postponed until they rooted out the mole. The Infuriated, the wolf let loose with another brutal flurry of violence. When Natsuko finally managed to pull him off, Torrig's face looked like it had been fed through a wood chipper. Even with his jaw smashed to bits, Torrig managed to stay playfully belligerent.
“Weren't you the least bit curious how fucking mongrels were managing to outmaneuver you? You people are just plain stupid. We were a step ahead from the very beginning.”
“If you're fucking with us Torrig...”
“You'll what? Torture me? Kill me? Go ahead. I've got nothing left to give.” Internally, Torrig was breathing a sigh of relief. Things were trending as he'd hoped they would. His captors were getting angry. They were getting violent. A violent end is all he wanted. He was convinced that a few more choice words would be all it took to send Jean into a homicidal rage. The sweet release of death was just around the corner.
“I'd be more than happy to kill you, but I can't just yet.” Natsuko leaned in close and whispered delicately in his ear, “To tell you the truth I might not even do it. Maybe I'll just tie you to a tree and leave you out naked in the daylight. It would serve you right if I made you into a snaggletooth.”
“Suits me fine. One last earthly injustice before I take my rightful place in the mead hall with my clan.”
“There is no mead hall Torrig. No heaven, no pearly gates, no peaceful eternal resting place. The only thing waiting for you after this life, is oblivion.”
“I welcome it. Even nothingness is preferable to the genetic cesspool that is this world.”
“I'll be back Torrig.” The work done, the interrogators left the room, but not before Jean cuffed Torrig upside the head a few more times for good measure. On the way out, he made sure to turn the intensity of the lights up to their maximum output.
“I'll be waiting with baited breath Masamura.” Upon reentering the corridor, Natsuko notices the suspicious absence of their human companion.
“Where the hell did Stein go?” So disturbed by the proceedings, she had rushed to the bathroom the instant she walked out of the cell. Jean could hear her retching into the toilet from where he was standing.
“She is currently in the lavatory down the hall. I would not recommend interrupting her, vomiting should be a solitary activity.”
“Fine then, I'll fill her in later. So was what he said true?”
“From what I could tell, it was all honest.” As much as Jean wished it was all lies, there was no indication of it. The war was beginning to feel more and more like a lost cause to him. The losses thus far had been nothing short of catastrophic and there was no sign of things getting better any time soon. If not for their minor victory at Two Union Square, things would have felt utterly hopeless.
“Then it would appear we have several new problems to contend with.” She drew one of her wakizashi and moved back towards the cell door, “I'll go ahead and take the honors then.” Jean stepped into Natsuko's path and forcefully shoved her back. The norseman's head had already been promised to another.
“No.” She leaped back towards him and put the tip of her weapon just underneath his chin. A trickle of blood slid slowly down the blade onto Natsuko's hand. For the umpteenth time since they had begun working together, their truce was dangerously close to breaking.
“What do you mean, no? I've wanted to skewer this little weasel for decades. Bullshit politics and red tape always got in the way before. Now is my chance. We have what we need.” She pushed up slightly on the hilt and pointed to the cell, “Time to put the little shit down.”
“I can't allow that. I made a promise to the machine man.” Ben had a right to his blood vengeance if he wanted it, and Jean would make sure that he got that chance. He had never gotten to avenge his own family. At the very least, he could facilitate it for someone else. His old rival would not be allowed to stand in the way of justice being done.
A swift knee to the stomach knocked Natsuko to the floor. While she was stunned, he kicked her wakizashi down the hallway. Standing over her with his arms crossed he said:
“It has to be him. I will not break my vow. If you would like to take issue with it, we can do this now.” Both knew they couldn't pursue it. There had been a few altercations between their respective troops in recent days. Every time a fight broke out, a contingent of drones would rush in to break it up. Neither one of them liked dealing with drones any more than they absolutely had to.
“You wolves and your god damn vows.” Jumping back up to her feet, she made her way down the corridor to retrieve her knife. “Have it your way, but get it done right away. Torrig shouldn't be taking up space any longer than necessary.” As Natsuko rounded the corner out of view, Dr. Stein returned from the bathroom.
“So, it's over then? Thank God. Don't ever ask me to do anything like that again. I'm not built for it.” Jean gave her an unenthusiastic thumbs up and turned to leave. If it were up to him, Stein would not have been involved in the first place. He hadn't trusted her from day one, and that wasn't going to change any time soon.
“Natsuko will catch you up later. I must get a message to Bashina immediately.”
“Hang on for one second Colonel,” She pulled her glasses out of her pocket, and wiped them down as she spoke, “If we're done here, I also have other obligations. First off, I'm going to change out of this puke stained coat. I have an appointment with Yvette later today. Would you please bring her by my lab around three o'clock?”
“Very well Doctor. I will see you then.”