Chapter 2

I walked a short distance and saw that the two soldiers we had left on guard were down, along with one more enemy. I moved further out and found a similar scene outside: five enemy soldiers and our four men dead.

Davis was still twitching in agony. I approached him and he grabbed my uniform, gasping:

“Get me out of here!”

I tried to drag him inside, but he quickly lost strength and died in my arms.

What the fuck! Where did these enemy soldiers come from? Intelligence had confirmed multiple times that there were only twelve.

I left Davis in a corner and went back inside to warn Henderson. I met him on the way as he was returning from checking the other areas. I told him we had been ambushed and that there were more enemy soldiers than our base had reported.

I explained that everyone was dead. I saw grief flash across his face, but he quickly pulled himself together like the good commander he was. He understood the situation and ordered us to return to the laboratory, grab the prisoner, and get back to base.

We headed back to the lab. As soon as we entered, the prisoner started speaking rapidly again. Henderson intimidated him into silence. But just when we thought it was clear, a man dressed as a doctor emerged from a hidden passage, firing. He hit Henderson.

Henderson returned fire and shot the man in the head. He dropped to the floor.

Now only the prisoner and I remained. The journalist started talking nonstop again. I raised my weapon, scanning every direction, and did a full sweep of the room. The passage the fake doctor had come from led to a secret room full of medical equipment. I checked outside as well, but found no one else.

I returned to the main room and stared at the prisoner. He was still lying there naked, strapped to the table with his back to me, head lowered. I approached and he began to tremble and struggle violently.

I got closer and looked at his face. It really was the journalist much thinner than in the photos, but the same features, now filled with terror as he saw me.

I raised my gun into the air under his watchful eyes and told him to calm down. He looked at me, confused. I asked if he understood me, but he only stared back in fear. I placed a finger over my lips, signaling for silence, since it was clear he didn’t speak my language. I showed him the gun held high and far from him. Only then did he go quiet.

I walked around and went to his feet, which were tied and hanging from that strange table or chair, I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. I cut the strap holding them with my knife, stood up, and paused, staring at his naked body. What the hell had they been doing to this man?

I then cut the two straps securing his back and helped him stand. He staggered, clearly weak, and his hands were still cuffed. It was better to leave them that way for now he was still a prisoner to us too.

Once he was fully on his feet, he looked at me in terror. He backed away, pressing himself against the wall behind him, his face even more frightened as he said something. I instinctively raised my gun. He glanced at the weapon in my hand and shrank back, muttering something else.

I lifted both hands in the air, showing him I wasn’t going to shoot. He kept staring at me. I signaled for silence again and told him there might be more soldiers coming. I wasn’t sure if he understood me, but at least he stayed quiet.

Only then did my eyes drift lower. I saw it, his cock was locked in some kind of metal device, something similar to a chastity cage used in sadomasochistic practices.

What the fuck was going on here?

I grabbed a blanket I spotted nearby and approached him. Even though he looked like a skittish animal, I got closer and said:

“We have to get out of here.”

I placed the blanket over his back while looking him in the eyes, my gun still raised in my other hand. He allowed me to cover him. I wrapped the blanket around his body.

I repeated:

“We have to get out of here.”

He didn’t move.

“Let’s go!” I urged.