Hinesville: Viv's interrogation (Part 4)

Hinesville: Seeing Red (Part 3)  (18+) Viv and Coop try to find out what is going to happen now that they have read the info.

They pulled Vivian into the car, threw her over the front seat, and quickly handcuffed her. One man put tape over her mouth, and another soon pulled a black bag over her head. This is when she decided that as soon as she could she would fight like hell.

After about an hour drive, the car came to a sudden stop. The man to her right pulled her out as the man to her left pushed her. Both of them letting go caused her to stumbled and fall. She hit her head on the concrete, and pain burned through her brow. She knew instantly it was bleeding. She swung her leg around as they pulled her up off of the ground, and swept someone off their feet. The accompanying grunt gave Viv a little satisfaction, but she was soon met with a blow to the ribs.

One man held her under each arm and they carried her into a building. She could sense that they brought her into a room where she was patted down, and everything left in her pockets was removed. The men placed her in a chair, but she could hear some people moving around in front of her. She knew someone was near her, and this wasn’t a debrief like she had been told, so she quickly swung her right leg along the floor in front of her. She could feel herself make contact with at least two people.

“Fuck!” Someone grunted out as they fell.

She quickly pulled her hands under her feet as she jumped, and immediately removed the bag from her head. Three men pushed her up against one of the walls, but she was easily able to get the better of them and made it to the door. She opened it and was tackled as she stepped into the hallway.

“Fucking bitch!” One of them punched her in the ribs again.

She turned and elbowed him, landing a good blow to the left side of his face.

She fought with the group of men for a short while. Three of them were out cold on the floor of the hallway when another group of men rushed up on her. She landed a few good blows, knocking a couple more of them off their feet. This seemed to continue for an eternity to Vivian, when it had been mere seconds. They soon caught her arms, and brought her to the floor. They unlocked her cuffs, and pulled her arms back behind her, re-cuffing her.

A group of them were able to get her restrained, carried her back to the room, while she was still trying to fight, and threw her down in the hard, wooden chair. They forced her legs against the chair, and others strapped them down. Another roughly secured her cuffs. She felt a pop and pain shot up her arm from her wrist, and she knew they had broken it. Though the pain was already intense, she clenched her teeth, and breathed through it. These men would never have the satisfaction of knowing how much she was hurting.

She felt like she was bleeding from everywhere. Her brow was burning, she could feel blood dripping out of her nose, and she could taste it in her mouth. All she wanted was to spit it out and put some ice on her head.
                                                                             
One of the men stood by as she was secured to the chair, staying aware for further problems. With her nose bleeding, blood coming from the corner of her mouth, where the duct tape had been slightly pulled away, and the gash above her left eye, he was satisfied they had inflicted so much pain already. He continued watching as the others worked, knowing this bitch would have to answer for what she just did. He knew all of them had to go through this before they were accepted, but there was a certain understanding–you didn’t fight back. He caught a glimpse as she tightened her jaw, and noticed her shuttered breathing. Had he not been trained to see it, he would have never known she was feeling pain. As the  others finished he decided to teach this bitch a lesson, one that she wouldn’t soon forget. He stepped over to where she sat and backhanded her, “For the bullshit you just pulled!”

Still breathing heavy from her attempted escape, she looked around, trying to seem as if she ignored the hit, wishing she had removed the duct tape. She’d always known the hell she went through in foster care as a kid would be good for something. With all of the beatings she endured, she would be able to take way more pain that they expected.

She finally had a chance to look around the room. A few of the men were readjusting the items in the room after her fight, a table, two chairs, and a one-way mirror on a side wall to her right. The walls were a flat gray, and appeared to be cinder block. But as a whole, from what she saw of the room and the hallway, the building appeared to be recently completed and somewhat unfinished. The ceiling appeared to be the roof; she could see the metal rafters and the sheet tin above. There were two doors in the room, one behind her, over her left shoulder, and one in front of her to her left. That rounded out the room. It was plain, simple, and only contained what was necessary for an interrogation.

She looked around at the men and noted they all wore black t-shirts with black BDUs and boots. They were all fit, each of them wore a sidearm, and she would bet they all served in the military at some point or another. They moved around, and completed their tasks with as much efficiency as possible.

They finished securing her to the chair and they set up and turned on a bright light, shining it directly in her face. She couldn’t see anything which, she knew, was the point. Her face was throbbing, and the heat from the lamp seemed to only intensified the pain.

The duct tape was removed from her mouth, and she felt like she could breathe again. She spit some blood out, and flexed her jaw while she continued to look around, despite the light. She could feel the tightness in her skin as her cheek started to swell.

She heard the door open behind her, turned and saw out of the corner of her eye as some of the men left while still others walked in. One of the men slapped her on the back of the head as he walked out. It wasn’t particularly hard, just enough to make sure it hurt. She chuckled as she listened to them still panting. Those pissers need to work out more, Vivian thought with a smirk.

“That was quite a stunt,” a man stated with a chuckle from behind her.

“Yep,” she said flatly, staring at the wall in front of her. She couldn’t reposition her arm in a way that made the pain subside. It didn’t matter how she turned it, the pain still lingered.

"Why did you do that?"

"I was told this is a debrief. If it is, this is the most fucked-up debrief I’ve been to." She turned her head slightly in the direction the voice came from. "So, just a nice little 'fuck you'. 'Cause I fuckin’ felt like it."

"Fair enough, but you shouldn't have done that," the man replied.

Another man stepped out between her and the light, and backhanded her. He leaned in close to her, whispering in her ear, “I volunteered for that, bitch.”

She turned to him quickly and looked him in the eye. "What? You can't take it when a woman gets the best of you, with her hands tied behind her back?" She smirked at the man, taunting him in the best way she could, and spit in his face.

The man hit her again with a loud smack.

Vivian grunted with the hit, feeling every bit of the sting of the blow. "It's a good thing you brought so many people with you," she said to the man behind her. The blood began to trickle from her mouth again, and she quickly wiped it on her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you drink the water left for you in the conference room?” The man questioned from behind her. Somehow, she could tell he was smiling.

Vivian didn’t answer right away. She knew this interrogation didn’t have anything to do with the information in the folders, that was simply an excuse. Her thoughts immediately returned to Crimson Hellfire, and what they were doing while Jake was still alive. She knew this had all the earmarks of the group, and after talking to Lane she had no doubt.

Joe, had planned her test for some time now. If she survived it she would be on his team within the next two years. She had to endure the beating for at least thirty minutes without breathing a word of what was in those folders. If one of his men walked in to speak to him, she passed the mark. But if she failed her friends would only find her body. He wouldn’t consider her worth the wasted air.

“Answer the question,” he said and stepped in front of her, but behind the light.

“It had been opened, I figured it had been tampered with,” Vivian replied, looking in his direction even though she couldn't see him.
“You figured right, but now we will inject what you should have consumed,” he told her.

Vivian started to pull at the restraints, and the pain surged through her broken wrist as she struggled against them. She could hear someone behind her moving around. She turned her head and tried to catch a glimpse of what they were doing, but another man was standing directly behind her.

The man behind her grabbed her head, held a hand over her mouth, and tilted her head to the right, his gloves pulling at her skin. Another man walked past her with a syringe, tapping out the bubbles.
                                     
She tried to scream, and fought the man and the restraints harder. He held her head but struggled to keep her still, despite the pain he was inflicting. She began to shift the chair around the floor, so much so, he strained to keep her upright.

“Vivian, you need to stop,” Joe told her as her muffled screams echoed in the room. “Inject her.” The man nodded to the one with the syringe.

Vivian continued her struggle as the man to her left tried to find a moment to inject the solution. The man with the syringe stopped and stood at attention. "Sir, she's moving too much."
                           
"Bolt the chair," Joe ordered. The other man continued to hold her, as she commenced with her struggle.

Four men came in with the equipment, bracketed and bolted the chair to the floor, while a second man joined the one holding her.

Vivian felt the cold alcohol wipe and whimpered as the needle broke the skin on her neck and the coolness of the solution entered her veins.

“Vivian, if you move, you’ll tear the artery in your neck,” Joe ordered her as if she were one of his men.

She could feel the needle withdraw, as a man pressed a compress to the injection site for a moment until he could tape it down.

One of the men stepped to her left, as the others continued to hold her head. She felt her left wrist released from the hand cuffs, which was immediately grabbed by the man to her left. She visibly winced at the utter pain of the man grabbing her arm. It was strapped down to the arm of the wooden chair by yet another man. The same process was repeated on her right side.

The man with the gloves soon let go, and the men who secured her arms left the room.

“Why are you doing this?” Vivian almost whined out, the drug already starting to work.

The man with the gloves stepped in front of her and backhanded her. “You don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Vivian could taste blood in her mouth again, and turned to glare at the man she was now calling “gloves” in her head. "Fuck you." She spit in his direction.

Gloves hit her again, the pain coursing through her veins.

She could feel the effects of whatever they gave her, and she hated it. As the room began to spin she glared at Gloves, almost daring him to hit her again while he paced in front of her like a predator stalking it’s prey.

“Damn, look at the way she’s looking at you,” another man bellowed from behind her.

He turned and hit Vivian a little harder. “Don’t you fucking look at me like that.”

Vivian grunted with the last hit. She just wished they’d turn that damned light off.

“Listen to the pig squeal.” Gloves laughed, pacing in front of her, and looked at the men behind her, who also laughed.

Vivian looked up at him and spit, landing the mucus and blood laced saliva at his feet.

Gloves went to hit her again, but Joe touched his shoulder. He ceased what he was doing and stared at her. She never broke her gaze from him.

“Step back,” the man ordered.

He stepped back to the far right corner of the room, behind Joe.

He, knew the drugs were working, so he turned off and pulled the light away. He moved a chair in front of Vivian. With the back of the chair facing Vivian, the man straddled it, and propped his arms up on the back. “You can call me Joe,” the man said, and looked at Vivian as if he were pondering her. “I can see you’re feeling the effects of what they gave you.” He grabbed her chin, and she jerked away. “Yeah, you’re full of piss and vinegar, aren’t you?” He looked at her for a moment. “Now, the fun begins.”

She sat in the silence, her head swimming, she lost all sense of time. With her sense of time distorted, it felt to her minutes had passed when it had only been seconds. However, she tried desperately to focus on her thoughts and not the pain.

“I’ve read your file, Vivian,” Joe told her as he lightly slapped her cheeks, forcing her to focus. “Your life has been harder than your friends’. You know what people are really like, and it’s not all happy days and picket fences.” He grabbed a file from someone behind her, held it up for a few seconds and turned to lay it on the table behind him.
Vivian spit some blood to the side.

Joe chuckled at her, amused by her actions, and could see her face already swelling. He knew she had already taken quite a beating. “This doesn’t even faze you, does it?” He looked at her briefly, and snickered a bit with his statement. “I like you already.”

Vivian tried to chuckle but it came out more like a grunt.

“Tell me, Vivian, what you read in those files,” Joe commanded.

“Nothing. I read the first page and realized it was something–” In her drunken state, she paused briefly to gather her thoughts. “I– we– shouldn’t be reading, so I closed the folder and we called the F–B–I.”

Joe nodded, but never stopped studying Vivian. He slightly raised his hand.

Without hesitation Gloves stepped up and backhanded her again. The sting was getting brutal.

Vivian breathed for a moment, letting the pain subside. She growled and turned back to Joe. "Now that you put it like that–my answer is still the same."
                                                                                       
Joe chuckled at her response and waved for Gloves to come back. He complied and hit her on the shoulder.

Vivian gathered herself, but it was getting harder not to show the pain. “You can hit me all you want, it doesn’t change my answer. I read the first page of the first folder and realized it was information I didn’t want to know.” Vivian grunted drunkenly. She could already feel herself on the verge of passing out, but she was determined to show these men up.

“Who called the FBI?”

“Cooper,” she slurred out.

Gloves moved to her, and hit her again.

She studied Joe as she was questioned. He never raised his voice to these men, or her. He commanded respect among his men. She dared think that if he did raise his voice one wouldn’t live to regret it. He spoke and his men listened–no questions asked. Then she had a realization, he wanted her for his work. He would beat her, torture her to make a point, but he was going to let her live, if she responds as he sees fit. That’s what it was all about. Those folders were planted, and meant for her and Cooper to find, that much was obvious. She thought of the men, and she plainly saw, since this started, they could squash her like a bug anytime they wanted to. She surmised they were ordered not to. She guessed they all had endured what she was at some point. She turned her attention back to Joe in her mind as the questioning and beating continued. His voice continued with its level and reasonable tone, she guessed he wouldn’t have it any other way. However, all these men did his dirty work. With the raise of his hand, or a nod, Gloves stepped up to pound her. Anyone of them would have done it at his behest.

Gloves stepped over again at Joe’s silent command and punched her shoulder. He then returned to his post in the corner, looking to Joe for his next order.

Vivian tossed her head back, a wince of pain evident on her face for only a second. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Gloves stepped in her direction. Vivian sighed knowing what was coming. Sure enough, Gloves landed another blow, this time on the opposite cheek.

“You will now address him as sir!” Gloves barked at her.

Vivian spit in Gloves direction, and he hit her again. With each blow, she didn’t know how much more she could endure. The only thing keeping her from passing out was the pure hatred she felt for these men.

“Call him sir!”

Vivian, her head bobbing from the effects of the drugs, looked at Joe. “I don’t know what you want from me, sir.” She realized Gloves was teaching her how to act around this man, Joe, who must be their commanding officer. She also knew when to pick her battles.

Joe smiled and nodded. “I want you to talk.”

She drunkenly shook her head. “Never, sir.”

Gloves struck her across the jaw.

“That was a good one. That was the kind of hit that just reverberated across my whole face,” she said as she flexed her jaw, and looked up at Gloves. She was being a smartass, she knew it and she loved it.

Gloves stood next to her, watching Joe intently for any sign.

Joe laughed and shook his head. “This is so much fun.” He looked at her for a moment and raised his eyebrows, "You will talk to me."

She wanted to scream out in pain, but only her defiance seeped from every pore. "No–I won't, sir."

Another man walked in and up to Joe, whispering something in his ear. Joe nodded in understanding, and the man left.

"Cooper is talking. What do you have to say about that?"

"That you're a fucking liar," Vivian replied without hesitation. “Sir.”

Gloves, still standing next to her, punched her in the stomach. This made Vivian throw-up a little. She turned her head to the side and allowed it to spill over the edge of the chair on to Gloves’ boots.

Joe chuckled as she sullied the man’s boots. He shook his head, loving the fight in her. "He is talking," Joe insisted and watched her spit to the side at Gloves.

Vivian shook her head defiantly. "No, he's not, sir," she grunted. There was no question in Vivian's mind, Cooper would not talk.

The man returned with a digital audio recorder, and played a recording of Cooper making a
statement.

"Now, what do you say?" Joe wondered how she would respond.

"That you're a liar, sir."

Gloves punched her on her arm.

Vivian winced, wondering if he had broken her other arm with the hit. She whimpered and breathed through the pain.

A tablet computer was presented to Joe. He took it and pressed something on the screen. A video soon began to play.

It was a recording of Cooper in a room, similar to hers, supposedly telling them something about what happened at the crime scene.

He turned and placed the tablet on the table behind him, next to her file. "Now, what do you say?"

"Believe none of what you hear, and only half of what you see, sir," she growled at him before he finished talking. "You're still a fucking liar, sir."

Gloves hit her arm again.

She grunted with the blow, barely able to speak. The room was spinning, and her head was swimming, but she would never allow herself to break. "No matter how many times you hit me, I will not change my answers, sir."

Joe tilted his head, studying her some more.

“But you told me something, sir.” Vivian gave off an air of arrogance, enduring the pain, but reaching her limits.

“What’s that?” Joe smirked at her, sure she couldn’t get any information out of them.

“You have inside information from the crime scene, sir.” Even in her stupor she knew that’s the only way they knew what had happened, she didn’t care if she had given away some information. They knew she would understand the information was correct–that was their point, that she would believe Cooper betrayed her. She didn’t.

Joe smiled, enjoying the banter. “Did we?” He nodded in the direction of Gloves.

Gloves punched her on the side of her face, knocking out a tooth. Vivian turned to Gloves and spit it at him. Gloves immediately hit her again, on the arm this time– the broken one.

Vivian was in intense pain. She let a sigh fall out, but she was able to keep the pain from showing on her face. Her right eye was almost swollen shut, and the bruising was already visible on her arms. She was glad at that moment that she was tied down, unsure if she could hold herself up.

Gloves looked down at her arm and realized it was broken. He could see a slight indention  where there shouldn’t be one. After a question from Joe, he reached down and pressed near the area which caused Vivian to wince. Gloves smiled to himself satisfied that he found another way to pressure her with pain.

Two men soon walked in from the door behind her, and stood at her sides.

“We’ve been going about this for an hour now,” Joe said. He studied her, knowing how much pain she was in. “You will be medicated again.” 

The two men then grabbed her, holding her head, this time tilting it to the left. The man who injected her earlier passed her with a needle again, and, despite the pain and previous sedation, she still fought like hell.

“Hold her still,” the man with the needle ordered the others as he waited to inject the solution.

Gloves stepped in to help, and the three of them were able to hold her just enough for the man to do his job. They seemed to find every spot on her face that was bruised, and she was considering letting herself pass out.

“That’s it,” The man said while he wiped her neck with the alcohol pad. She screamed as he broke the skin with the tip of the syringe.

“Vivian, don’t move,” Joe ordered her as he still sat in the chair across from her.

The men all moved away, and she quickly head-butted one of them. She was immediately struck by another, which made her cry out.

“You’re something else.” Joe could see her working through the pain. He knew this medication would dull it to a point, but that she still felt a good portion of it. He nodded in the direction of one of the men behind her. He stepped forward and put a wide strap under her arms and secured it to the back of the chair. This kept her upright.

It felt like her head immediately started swimming, and she now began to ponder her own death. With the pain she was in, she might have even wished for it.

“Tell me about the files,” Joe commanded as her head swayed, and she slowly blinked from the effects of the drug.

She tossed her head back trying to shake off the feeling of the meds, but it was of no use. She looked at him and shook her head. “There’s nothing to tell, sir.”

Gloves instantly hit her in her leg, just above her knee. The pain reverberated through her body.

“Damn, that’s a new spot.”

He hit her again, in the same spot. “Don’t speak!”

Vivian breathed evenly, allowing the pain to subside. She didn’t know if she could fight the pain much longer.

Her head fell to her chest because, just for a moment, she couldn’t hold it up. Joe picked up her chin, knowing she was getting exhausted, and he understood she would never talk. That was why he wanted her on his team so badly.

Joe continued questioning her for another thirty minutes, getting the same results and expecting nothing less. He stood up for the first time since he started, and shook his head. “You should have talked.”

Vivian grunted, and glared at the man standing before her. The door in front of her opened and a group of men walked in. They all held AR-15 rifles and stood behind Joe. The men behind her left the room, and this was the first time during the whole ordeal she thought they were actually going to kill her.

“Do you have anything you want to say now?” Joe watched as she glared at him.

Vivian looked up at him, mustering all of her energy, and muttered, “Fuck you, sir.”
“Very well,” he said and stepped behind the men with the guns. A black bag was placed over her head.

She made her peace with God. She wanted to live, to survive, and knew one day the pain would be gone, but it was beyond her control.

One of the men, instead of shooting her, pulled out a syringe and jabbed it into her upper arm. He injected the solution and they all watched her head fall to her chest.

Joe gave the order to cut the audio, and turned to the crew in the room. “Bring her to the exam room, and have Fred check her out,” Joe ordered them. “We might get her sooner than I planned.”

“Yes, sir,” they all said in turn. Three walked over, released her from her restraints, and removed the bag from her head. One bent over, picked her up and gently carried her out of the room.

One man stopped Joe. “I know we all had to do what she just went through, but I’ve never seen anyone take that much before, sir.”

Joe turned to him, certain he would get Vivian. “What just happened in here, that’s why I want her.”                                                                                                                       


Ben and Nate sat at their desks waiting for a call, either from the captors or their co-workers. Captain Sullivan had the BOLO out almost immediately after the agents had called him. The State Police didn’t waste any time. They still had heard nothing despite the extensive search.

"This is bullshit, it's been almost three days," Ben huffed and threw a pen down on his desk.

Nate just nodded, seemingly mesmerize by the phone on his desk. Both men sat, staring into oblivion, not able to concentrate on anything else.

Nate's phone rang and they both jumped. Nate picked it up and listened. "Where?" He asked as he stood up and wrote something down. He dropped the phone, but didn’t bother to place it on the receiver, and texted the information to everyone in the field office. They all went running out.




Before opening her eyes, she knew she was outside. She could feel her face on the dirt, and the scorching southern sun beating down on her. She lifted her head to see where she was. She saw a tree line and then glanced around. She noticed Cooper lying about ten yards from her. They lay at the edge of a large freshly-plowed field. She did a low army crawl to where Cooper was, pain wracking her body with every movement. He looked as bad as she felt.

“Cooper,” she muttered, but he didn’t move. “Coop”. She slowly reached over and felt his neck. He had a pulse. She grabbed his hand, fell at his side in a very unnatural position, but the pain was too much, and she lost consciousness again.

Vivian came to and used all of her strength to lift her head. She looked up to see men in suits and uniforms running toward her and Cooper in the field. She couldn’t quite tell who it was, but they looked familiar.

She was then able to focus her eyes. Ben and Nate, yes, it’s Ben and Nate, and the State Troopers from around Hinesville, she thought to herself.

She dropped her head to the ground again, as they all arrived.

“Viv, come on, Viv, stay with me,” Nate said softly. He turned her on her back and picked her up.

He carried her back toward the Georgia State Police units. Vivian tossed her head to see Ben and a state trooper, each with one of Cooper’s arms draped over their shoulders, carrying him toward the cars. Nate set her down in the shade of one of the State Police vehicles. He sat next to her, and pulled her onto his lap.

Justin Phillips, another agent they knew, ran to the small group, talking on a portable radio. “To the southeast!” He yelled, “Look to your right!” Justin waved to persons unknown, beyond the car. “Send the Medics now!”

Nate spoke softly again, “Viv, focus on me Viv.”

Vivian’s eyes darted around, trying to center on Nate. “Water.”

“Give me a bottle of water!” Nate demanded. A lukewarm bottle of water was presented to him, which he opened and poured a little in Vivian’s mouth. She drank thirstily, wanting more than he gave her.

“Cooper?” Vivian questioned and looked up at Nate.

“You’re both going to be fine,” Nate tried to reassure her. “He’s awake now, and drinking water, too.” Nate glanced where Ben, Cooper and Agent Toby Campbell were.

The area rapidly became a swarm of law enforcement from across the area. The entire field was being roped off by the Georgia State Police.

Justin knelt down next to Vivian, she remembered him from the task force. “Where do you hurt Viv?”

“Everywhere,” She muttered and visibly winced. She looked up at the two men with heavy eyelids. “How long has it been?”
“More than two days,” Nate told her. "Almost three."

“Cooper?”

“He’s going to be alright Viv,” Nate told her again, figuring she had a concussion.

Vivian began to lose consciousness again, but she was suddenly rushed back into the here and now by the most awful smell she could imagine.

“Vivian you stay with me!” Nate yelled at her, still holding her in his lap as several paramedics ran up. Nate slipped out from under her to let the paramedics do their jobs.

She soon heard what sounded like a team of helicopters in the area. She watched one fly by and land as the paramedics worked on her and Cooper. She soon saw a second one land out of the corner of her eye, about a hundred yards away.

They immobilized her neck, strapped her down to a backboard, had an oxygen mask on, and she had IV’s coming out of everywhere. She was loaded up on a stretcher and put into a helicopter just as Cooper’s was taking off.

"Nate?" Vivian muttered as they worked.

"We're right here, Viv!" Nate yelled to her.

“Vivian!” She heard Ben yell over the thunderous sound of the helicopter, “We’re going to meet you there!”

Vivian gave him a “thumbs up”.

The flight nurse turned to Ben and yelled, “She heard you!”

Ben nodded, the helicopter door was closed, and it took off headed to Savannah.

Hinesville: The Hospital (Part 5)  (18+) Viv and Coop are found,will they be okay?What is discovered once they get to the hospital?

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