1999

by Tamar Richardson

*

The man sat in a chair, under restraints. He was waiting for for his captor to come through the huge, metallic door. He had been taken hostage somewhere over the Atlantic, and was brought here for questioning. The man knew little of what they wanted from him.

He did know that he was in enemy territory during what would be known as World War III. That his government had been changed from a democracy to a Nazi based dictatorship. But he had willing made the adjustments and became a soldier to the Feürer.

The door opened to reveal a short, balding man. "Good morning," he greeted the man.

"Morning?" the man asked. It couldn't be morning. "It's too dark to be morning," he thought aloud.

The interrogator's arm moved around the corner of the door and the lights brightened. "Is this more suited to your liking?" He sat down across from the man at a small desk with numerous buttons. "By the way," the interrogator pushed one of the buttons. An electric shock zipped through the man's body. "Never contradict me again."

"You just can't treat me like this," the man said defiantly, "I'm an honorable general of the-"

"Your rank means nothing here," the interrogator interrupted, "Here you will be known simply as John Doe. You were always just another face in the crowd and always will be, regardless of rank."

The interrogator opened a suitcase, that he had brought in with him. He took out a small parcel and started to open it, showing a sandwich. He took half of the sandwich and ate it before saying, "From what I understand they haven't fed you since you got here, that's about two days," he paused, "It's lunch time, would you like some lunch?"

"Lunch time? But you said it was morning."

"Well, if it's morning then you can't have this, but if it's lunch time..." the interrogator hinted.

"It's lunch time," the man said uncertainly.

"I thought so," the interrogator pushed a different button releasing the man arms from the restraints, "Here you are," he handed the man the other half of the sandwich.

The man took it, greedily, then paused. "I assure there's no poison in there," the interrogator stated. "If anything was wrong with it, do you think I would have eaten the first half?"

The man was convinced. He ate the sandwich quickly. "I would just like to know one thing." the interrogator pushed.

"What?" the man said in between bites.

"Why do you follow him?"

The man shifted uneasily in the chair, "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Oh, come on," the interrogator scoffed, "You know who I'm talking about your Feürer, the man who overthrew your government, the false hope."

"He isn't a false hope!" the man exclaimed. He wouldn't let the interrogator insult his divine leader like that.

"You must realize this is a lost caused," the interrogator looked at his watch. "About the sandwich you ate, I heard if you eat a little bit of poison each day, you eventually become immune. Unfortunately, unlike myself, you haven't been eating a little poison each day. Yes, it should be having it's desired effects right about now. Good night, Mr. Doe."

**********

The man lay on the floor in a fetal position. Last night had been the worse night of his life. "Good morning." the interrogator came in through the door carrying the suitcase and a glass of water. He set the suitcase down on the desk, opened it, and took out several large pills. He put them in the glass and said, "No doubt last night left you extremely dehydrated. Here," the interrogator handed him the glass, "Drink this."

"Why should I believe you this time?" the man barely managed.

"My superiors want you alive, thus this won't kill you or harm you in any way." the interrogator encouraged. The man was too weak to argue, he took the water. He felt his strength coming back to him.

"Feeling better?" the interrogator inquired, "Good, now get up and go sit in the chair." The man tried to move, but couldn't. "Very well," the interrogator went over to the desk and pushed a different button. Several large men came into the room and physically picked up the man and put in the chair. The interrogator push a familiar button and the man was back in restraints.

"Now," the interrogator pushed a button, four bright lights shown in the man eyes, "How many lights do you see?"

"Four," the man answered matter-of-factly.

"Wrong, there are five," the interrogator corrected, "Try again."

The man took another look, but still saw four lights. "There are four lights." A tiny electric shock ran through the man's body.

"Try again." And it went on like that for almost three hours, the shock increasing in intensity each time, until he finally past out.

**********

The interrogator walked in the next morning, but he wasn't alone. He was followed by two guards carrying a struggling, masked body with them. The guards took off the mask to reveal the man's direct superior. The interrogator set down a small tape recorder on the desk.

"Now," he started, "Tell me what you said yesterday to another interrogator."

"I admit to committing war crimes against the Jews," the admiral began his confession, "I admit, and take full responsibility, to influencing members of the-"

"Stop!" the man interrupted.

"Why? Once he makes his confession, he can go free. He is your scape goat if he accepts responsibility for this then there will be no need for you. In other words you will also be able to go." the interrogator reasoned, "Please continue."

"Don't," the man wouldn't let this happen, "Don't let them break you. This is exactly what they want you to do."

"This is your last chance," the interrogator warned, "After this, it is the end of the line."

The admiral was dumbfounded. He sat there for several moments, until he made his decision, "I will go no further."

"Are you sure?" the interrogator pushed. The admiral nodded. "Very well," he pushed another button and about five large, surly men came in with something that look liked a hospital stretcher, only this thing had restraints. They picked up the admiral and strapped him to the thing. "Room 17," the interrogator instructed.

"Where are they taking him?" the man was confused.

"That isn't your concern." The admiral was wheeled out of the room and down a hall. Moments later, they heard a loud scream, then the lights flicker, and everything went silent.

"He didn't do anything," the man tried hopelessly to reason with the situation at hand.

"I know," the interrogator agreed, "Now shall we start from where we left last time." He pushed the ominous button and the lights flashed on and the game began yet again.

**********

The interrogator walked into the room. He set down a document with a pen on it. "Sign this," he said, "This is your one and only chance to get out of here."

"What is it?" the man was very suspicious about the whole situation.

"Your confession," the interrogator said softly, "All you have do is sign this and you'll be free to go. No harm will come to you."

"And if I don't?" the man refused to give in this easily.

"We'll take you to the same room, where you comrade went." The man had full use of his hands and made good use of this fact. He picked up the paper and torn it in half. "Oh, I wish you hadn't done that." The interrogator pressed a button and the same thugs, who had taken the admiral's life now came to take his.

He accepted the end and decided to die with dignity. He lay still and tried not to struggle. Just as they reach the room, which would have be his death, he heard gunshots.

"Release your prisoner!" a woman's voice demanded. The man knew the voice well. While they were fighting, she had been his right hand man (err... woman). She had always backed him up in battle, as had he backed her up.

The guards turned out to be a lot less tougher than they looked, they had all run at the first sign of gunfire. The woman came over and undid the straps that had bound him. "Thank you," he said whole heartedly.

She handed him a gun, and together (along with other members of the faction) they moved their way out of the building. As they worked their way up to the surface, he thought of what he would do now. Of course, he would go fighting for the United States and the Feürer. He would also continue to promote the ideas of Nazism. The cause wasn't lost, from the conversation he was hearing, they were winning. They out numbered the enemy at least two to one.

They reached the surface and looked around, it had been weeks since he had seen the sun, too bad he was enemy soil in the middle of Iraq.

*