Chapter 1

"Haul her up."

Even the crisply starched army whites, replete with Purple Heart flash, could not disguise the fact that the Sergeant was a brute of a man. His biceps were larger than a lot of men's thighs and his neck was so muscle-bound that he had to turn his whole upper body when he was addressed. As he reached forward to take hold of the chain I could see that his shaved head was shinned with perspiration, notwithstanding the ruthless air conditioning that was at work in the room sixty feet beneath ground level.

He began to pull, hand over hand, with seemingly little effort and, slowly but surely, the woman was lifted clear of the bench. She was hog-tied, with her wrists fastened to her ankles behind her back and both joined to the single chain running up to a pulley set in the girdered ceiling. As she was raised higher so her body became more painfully bowed.

This was the one they had nicknamed "Smiler" but her stern countenance betrayed the irony. I could see from her face that she was determined not to be broken but a quick glance at the Major reassured me that her resistance would be futile. Unusually, for an Asian, her breasts were quite large, their size exaggerated as they hung free and I suspected that she would come to rue their ampleness before the session was over.

"That's high enough."

She was swinging in a lazy arc two feet above the bench. The Sergeant secured the chain to a cleat on the wall and then, without further bidding, took hold of the bench and cleared it out of the way. For a few seconds the only sound in the room was the whine of the ventilation system and the creak of the chain through the pulley. I knew from her file that she was twenty seven years old but she could have passed as a teenager; certainly her body was one of which any woman would have been proud. Her photograph did not really do justice to her face but then, given the degree of disorientation when it was taken, that came as no surprise. Had I seen her across a bar she would certainly have piqued my interest if only because of her hair. Notwithstanding her confinement, it was still black and lustrous and, suspended as she was, it hung almost to the floor.

The Major turned to the three men seated quietly to my right and looked at Burnside before speaking.

"Sir?"

It had been easy to forget the men's rank and it seemed slightly odd hearing the impeccably uniformed Major deferring to them as necessary. Burnside was slow to respond but finally he got to his feet. He approached the three tiered steel trolley and, for a moment or two, he stared vacantly at the various implements but then he reached forward and took hold of one of the two dozen hessian sacks arrayed on the top tier and hefted it in his hand. I knew from the report that each neatly tied sack held about a pound of rice.

He turned to face the woman and she gave him a look of total disdain but Burnside now appeared to be acting with more purpose. He took a step forward and placed the bag on the small of her back. She did not utter a sound but she began to struggle in an attempt to dislodge it. It was a futile attempt and every movement strained her already aching limbs. He watched dispassionately until she settled once more and then picked up a second sack. She immediately started jerking again but Burnside had all the time in the world. He waited until she was still and then placed the second sack next to the first. She closed her eyes as she attempted to come to terms with the heavier burden but Burnside was already holding a third sack. Three pounds might not sound like a lot of weight but I could see that, being placed as they were, every single ounce was going to increase her agony exponentially.

Burnside added the third and a fourth sack, forming a neat square, and then surmounted them with a fifth and sixth. As he placed the sixth she gave a low groan and the proverbial "camel's back" came to mind. She was breathing heavily and clearly trying to fight down the cramps that were racking her body.

"Thank you, Sir."

Burnside looked to the Major who was indicating the vacant seat next to mine. He came and sat down, leaving the woman moaning under her breath. The second man rose to his feet unbidden. Like Burnside he was dressed in a plain white gym shirt, cotton camouflage pants, and a shining pair of black combat boots. This was Eves, the oldest of the three, but not the most senior. His face betrayed more purpose than Burnside's and there was a clear gleam of anger in his eyes. He seemed to survey the trolley with a degree of relish before he picked up a cat o' nine tails. Ironically, it was an implement which might well have come direct from the army museum, but I knew that it had been procured to match a particular specification. It had nine tan leather strands which were plaited together to form a rigid handle.

Eves made sure that he was in her line of sight before he swished it experimentally through the air. The noise it made seemed innocuous but I knew from my naval history that many men had died under the lash. The woman's features were still set rigid but her body gave an involuntary shiver. It might been have caused by the increasing strain of her suspension but I suspected not.

Eves set himself with his feet set slightly apart and the cat at shoulder height. He then nodded to the Sergeant who took a step forward and gave the woman's thigh a firm push. Her body began a slow rotation and Eves let it turn two full circles before he struck.

Slash!

"NNnnggh.."

Her head came up as the cat furled painfully around her thigh.

Slash!

"mmmmmfff.."

She was trying to stifle her cries but Eves had caught her other thigh just as painfully as he had caught the first.

Slash!

"nnnahhh..."

Her right thigh again and, even from where I sat, I could see the individual red lines of pain etched into her flesh. Eves paused for a moment as the chain tightened and her body remained still for second before winding back in the other direction.

Slash!

He was not hitting her too hard but, slowly but surely, he was working over every inch of flesh on her legs.

Slash!

She was quiet now but still flinching under every blow.

Slash!

After twelve Eves stopped but it was a short-lived respite. Pausing only to straighten the sacks, which were in danger of becoming dislodged, he allowed the cat to trail on the floor.

Slash!

"AGGhhh!"

He thrashed the cat upwards and caught her breasts. The stroke appeared to have no great power behind it but, for the first time, her mask began to slip.

Slash!

"NEEEhhhaah!"

He repeated the stroke and it was clear that he was now taking her beyond her pain threshold. Her face was twisted in an agonised grimace but she had the presence of mind to try and twist her body so that her legs were presented as the more obvious target. Eves merely grinned and waited until the chain inevitably unwound making her vulnerable once more.

Slash!

"Ni ti SAH!"

The stroke was hurriedly delivered but nevertheless effective. I had no idea what she was trying to say but there was no doubt that it was an entreaty. Over the next few minutes Eves kept up his attack on her breasts and she was reduced to meaningless screams. I had thought about this moment and wondered how I would cope with it. I knew that it was important for me to appear dispassionate, to remain professional, what I had not expected was a raging erection! At least I had the benefit of a clipboard to hide my embarrassment. I cast a sidelong glance at the Sergeant and he was looking severely discomforted. He was standing at ease, eyes looking straight ahead, but his drill trousers were standing very much to attention. It appeared that his physical attributes did not stop at his biceps. I suspected that the Major, too, was not impervious but he was standing with his hands crossed casually in front of his groin.

Finally, Eves stopped but I guessed that he was simply saving himself for the others. The question now was whether or not Collins would take an active part. I had made it clear to the Major that he must do so of his own volition without the benefit of invitation.

The room was quiet again but the temperature seemed to have risen. Sweat was beading at the Sergeant's temples and forming tiny runnels down the side of his face. For my part my armpits felt extremely uncomfortable and my nostrils twitched involuntarily. It was at that moment that I remembered something else from the file. I looked more intently at the woman, who was now groaning in synchronisation with the sway of the chain and I noted that the base of the hessian sacks was now appreciably darker. The sacking, and the rice inside, was absorbing her sweat and adding to the pressure on her back by slow but inevitable degrees. As I was staring I caught a movement at the corner of my eye as Collins got to his feet.

He had a haggard look and his dark beard, although it was close shaved, formed a distinct shadow on his sallow flesh. He was in his forties but looked older. His blue eyes were deep set and, in all the time I had known him, they had looked lifeless but, suddenly, there was a spark in them that I had never seen before. He walked towards the woman and, in just those fifteen paces, he seemed to find renewed vigour. She suddenly noticed him for the first time.

"Ja he ta sanwah ..."

She was shaking her head and it was clear to all of us that, notwithstanding all that she had been through at the hands of Eves, she was more afraid of Collins. Eves himself stood back a couple of feet and Collins began to walk around the suspended body. He took his time, reaching out now and again to touch the back of a finger to her skin and she flinched at every contact. Finally he arrived back where he had started and stood surveying the trolley. He knelt and retrieved what he wanted from the second tier. It looked like a miniature car wheel without a tire.

"Ta sanwah!"

She found new reserves of strength and began to thrash around, causing the chain to rattle alarming, but Collins remained composed. He waited until the pain became too great and then, with an almost imperceptible nod of his head, he indicated to Eves that he should rearrange the sacks on her back. Eves stepped quickly forward, formed the sacks into a neat pile once again, and then moved back.

Collins reached out and, before she could react, he grabbed a handful of her hair. She immediately bared her teeth and the sound she made was like the hissing of a snake. Very slowly and deliberately Collins began to twist the hank of hair around his hand and bent down to speak directly into her ear.

"... ne choi ... an noi ... teh de sanwah ..."

I could only catch the odd word but the import was clear and the blood seemed to drain from her face. Then, without warning, he gave his hand a more vicious twist and she opened her mouth in a scream. With a speed and dexterity that I had thought beyond him Collins' other hand forced the wheel into her mouth.

"NNNNaaahh!"

Her teeth closed reflexively but it was too late. She simply bit into the wheel's rubber lined recessed rim. She struggled desperately to expel it but Collins' grip on her hair tightened so that she could not move her head and her tongue was no match for his firm grip as he held the wheel in place. Once again he nodded in Eves direction but this time Eves seemed at a loss.

"The key!"

He did not add the words "you cretin." but they seemed implied and, for a second or two, Eves appeared angry. Finally, he walked, almost sullenly, to the trolley and found what he was being asked for. The key was long with a stubby hollow barrel at its end. He proffered it to Collins who gave an exasperated sigh.

"Use it!"