THE GUARDIAN
BY: DIANA M.

Chapter Seven

 
   Scarlett woke, her head pounding, to find herself sprawled on a wooden palette covered with an old thin blanket. From the smell, she guessed the ragged wool had last adorned a very unwashed horse. Above her, lichen clung to an ancient stone ceiling, slick with moisture. There was very little light.

  A dark, dank cell, she thought to herself, how clichéd.

  She sat up to get a better look at her surroundings, and a sharp bolt of pain seared through her skull.

  “Unnhhhhh.” Scarlett rubbed the back of her head. A lump the size of a golf ball stood out from her skull. She fingered it gingerly. It was tender, but at least there was no sign of blood crusting her hair. Xamot had smacked her pretty hard. She was lucky to get away with a concussion and a lumpy head.

  Scarlett shivered and rubbed her hands together. The cell lived up to its platitudes by being cold as well. Scarlett’s uniform was not designed to protect from this sort of chill, and her gloves had been taken from her; the lines of throwing stars she had sewn to the leather too much of a threat to be ignored. She gathered the thin stinking blanket around her. It did little to fight the cold.

  A fresh shock of pain lanced her head. Its sickening ache made Scarlett retch. Her empty stomach gave up little; she had lost her last meal in front of the gate at Stonehenge. Roadblock’s fajitas had not tasted as good coming up as they had going down.

  Scarlett's vomiting drew the attention of her guards. She heard the harsh scraping as the latch was drawn back at the door of her cell. The door opened, and a harsh ray of light made Scarlett wince. It was soon blocked out by the bulk of a large blue-shirted COBRA viper.

  “She’s up, sir.”

  “Well? Whaddya waiting for? The old man said to bring her up as soon as nappy-time was over!” Scarlett recognized the nasal Cockney twang. “ ‘ere, lemme get her.” Ripper pushed his way eagerly past the soldier and moved to grab Scarlett’s arm. He giggled happily, “Come with Ripper, sweetie, he’ll take good care of ya.”

  “No chance, nature boy!” Scarlett’s foot flashed out from underneath the blanket and her boot caught Ripper in the crotch. Gurgling, he collapsed to the floor and lay there moaning. Uproarious laughter and applause accompanied his writhing.

  “Cor! Got him good, she did!” Buzzer stood in the doorway. Scarlett rose to rush past him. She stood too fast for her pounding head, however, and another white-hot pain forced her to sit down. “C’mon, Torch. Help me get her.”

  “Get those boots of her first,” Torch lingered in the doorway, “ I’m not letting the little darlin’ punt me in the googlies like she did Ripper.”

  Scarlett struggled wildly when she felt Buzzer grab her and hold her arms down. Her head ached painfully, and the room spun. She couldn’t get the leverage to pull herself free.

  “Torch! I can’t hold her meself!”

  “Knock her one on the head then. It worked before.”

  “She has to go up there awake and everything,” Buzzer’s arm brushed close across Scarlett’s mouth. She took the opportunity and bit deep. “Yeeeeoooowch! She’s a biter!” Buzzer had the strength of mind not to let go. So did Scarlett. “Torch! Just grab ‘er!”

  “All right, but I ain’t getting close to her feet, ‘n her mouth, neither.” Torch ambled in and grabbed Scarlett by the waist. By then, Ripper had regained his composure and came to give his friends a hand.

  “Get her off!” Scarlett could taste Buzzer’s blood in her mouth; she tightened her grip on his arm. Ripper and Torch tried to pry her jaw open, but she wouldn’t give way.

  “She ain’t harf got a good grip, Buzzer. She’s like a bulldog, she is”

  “Just get her off me bleedin’ arm!”

  “Here, Ripper, let’s give her a good yank!” Torch and Ripper grabbed Scarlett and gave a sudden sharp tug.

  “AAAAARRRRGGHHHHHH! You rotters!” Scarlett and Buzzer’s arm were quickly and unceremoniously separated. She noted with some satisfaction that a good chunk of his flesh remained in her mouth. She spat it to the floor. Buzzer grabbed at his arm. Scarlett saw the blood begin to ooze from between his fingers. “You bitch! You cow! You’re going to pay for that!” He grabbed a ball gag from the wall and roughly fastened it around her head, “There. A nice little muzzle. That’ll hold you ‘till you get upstairs. Let’s go.”

  “ ‘Ang on.” Scarlett felt Ripper hurriedly remove her boots, “I ain’t taking no chances.”

  Scarlett was carried feet first out the door by all three Dreadnocks. As they left the dungeon she caught a glimpse of the viper that had opened her cell. He was still standing net to the door, key in hand. The dungeon door swung shut, and she heard him beginning to chortle. At least she’d made someone’s day.

  They carried Scarlett through a maze of hallways. Rotting tapestries and rusty suits of armor hung from the crumbling stone walls. Cobra Commander always did have a flair for the dramatic. Scarlett thought back to all the fantastic fortresses and medieval castles the Joe team had razed of COBRA forces. It was a wonder there were any old buildings of this size left. There couldn’t have been that many to begin with, really. She wondered if the Commander had them built specially.

  The Dreadnocks stopped at what looked suspiciously like elevator doors.

  “Stop pushing the button, Ripper. It won’t make it come any faster.”

  “ ‘Ow do you know, Buzzer? ‘Ow do you know it don’t think there are more of us waitin’?”

  The doors slid open, and the Dreadnocks hustled Scarlett inside. “You wouldn’t think one Joe would be so much trouble, would you?”

  “ I don’t see why we don’t just get rid of ‘er. Seems to me the fewer Joes we gotta deal with the better.”

  “Naw, Torch, this one’s too pretty to kill. We should just get rid of the ugly ones. The lady Joes is worf keepin’.”

  “There’s only three of ‘em. We’d hafta kill all the others to get to ‘em.”

  “One for each of us, right? And we already got one.”

  “ I likes the redhead.”

  “We got the redhead.”

  “Not this one. The other one. The one with the shorter hair.”

  “Ain’t she the one we saw in Cosmo?”

  “Shut up, twits, we’re at the top.” Buzzer waited for the doors to open, then kicked back the security gate with his foot. They hauled Scarlett into a large bright room, filled with COBRA computers and operators. Scarlett could hear the bustle of a communications room. She was carried to a long gleaming table covered with a number of steaming dishes, out of place amid the monitors and communications stations. The Dreadnocks dumped Scarlett into a chair, tied her hands and legs down, and pushed her in.

  “ ‘ere, darlin’ lemme get you a plate,” Ripper piled a silver platter high with meat and vegetables from the numerous tureens. He placed it in front of Scarlett with aplomb, “You must be starvin’, after all that upchuckin’,” Scarlett inhaled a heady whiff of rich food and her stomach growled unhappily. “Course your tummy could still be a little unhappy.”

  “Leave her and go. Your conversation is tiresome and your odor ruins the palette,” Destro’s deep voice purred from across the table.

  “Sure, Destro,sir, just let us grab a mouthful of-”

  “GO!” All three Dreadnocks rushed to the elevator. Torch managed to swipe a large dripping chunk of roast beef on the way. They grumbled to each other as the elevator doors closed.

  “Blimy, ‘ees toffed.”

  “Got kicked in the danglers, and not a word of thanks.”

  “Bloody shame, that is.”

  Destro eyed Scarlett and sipped from a glass of red wine. He waved over a nearby viper. “McGregor, please remove her gag. I find it hard to eat looking at that ball in her mouth,” Destro daintily cut a strip of beef, scooped some horseradish onto the back of his fork, and lofted the whole conglomeration to his mouth. The viper came around the table and freed Scarlett from the gag. Destro chewed thoroughly and swallowed. “My dear Scarlett O’Hara, how nice to see you once again. I would free your hands and invite you to join me, but I long ago learned never to give you the smallest of freedoms,” he smiled over the rim of his wineglass.

  “I don’t eat with animals like you, Destro.”

  “Now, now, my dear, let us not fall into the indecencies of bickering, shall we?”

  “How long did it take to get the arrowhead out of your arm?”

  Destro frowned and rubbed the bandage over his wound, “Yes, the type of tip you are using seems to travel quite far into bone. Never fear, there is no permanent damage done.”

  “Oh good, I’d hate to think I’d hurt you any way,” Scarlett spat facieciously, “You’re lucky I missed, I was aiming for your head.”

  “I think you would have found my mask protects me from all projectiles of many types, dear Scarlett.”

  “That wasn’t the head I was talking about.”

  “Enough!” Destro slammed his glass down, shattering the stem in his hand. McGregor rushed forward to clean the mess. “I grow weary of this exchange. You will share with me now all the security codes you can recall that would help us into Joe databases.”

  “I’m not going to just give them to you, you know.”

  “I am aware of your stubborn reluctance to cooperate. However, I think you know that we have many ways of making you comply.” McGregor handed Destro a new glass and filled it from the bottle on the table.

  “You could try, but I’ve already seen most of the Commander’s little toys. They’re never too hard to ignore. In fact, its usually when old rag face is playing that we get away.”

  “I would have to agree with you, Scarlett. Unfortunately for you, the Commander is on Snake Island explaining his failure to Serpentor. I’m afraid you must put up with me in his place,” Destro stood, both hands resting on the table, and glared at her, “and I don’t play his games.”

  Scarlett jumped at a crackling sound behind her. Destro strode around the table, Scarlett couldn’t follow see what he was doing after he passed behind the high back of her chair. He returned carrying two long metal probes with black rubber grips. A wire ran from each probe to the floor and around behind Scarlett.

  “I find old fashioned methods so much more reliable, don’t you?” a bolt of electricity jumped between the probes, crackling menacingly. “ I think it won’t be too long before you decide complying is so much more comfortable.”

  Destro touched one probe to each of Scarlett’s hands. Instantly, she felt as if every nerve were on fire. Her body arched, muscles twitching out of control. She could smell ozone burning.

  “My dear, you simply can’t take too many more of those.” Destro whispered in her ear.

  “We’ll find out, won’t we?” she snarled through clenched teeth. The muscles in her arms still twitched feebly.

  Destro sighed, “Yes, I suppose we shall have to.” He touched her with the probes again, and again.

***********************


  An hour later, Scarlett hung panting in her bonds. She had held out as long as she could, but it was no use. The pain had been too much. She had mumbled a few codes to an eager Destro. McGregor rushed immediately over to a computer to hack into a Joe line.

  “So you see, my dear Scarlett, there are ways to make even you talk.”

  Scarlett struggled to lift her head. He uniform had become sodden as the electricity had taken away her ability to control her body. She stank from sweat and urine and other things. But still, she refused to let go of her pride. She smiled at Destro.

  “It won’t do you any good. It's standard procedure to change all the codes whenever a Joe is captured,” Scarlett prayed she had held out long enough for the Mainframe and the others to get to the ones she had let slip.

  McGregor swore and pounded on his keyboard, “She’s right sir, all these codes are dead.”

  “Damn!” Destro heaved the probes across the room, they clattered against a stone wall. One broke free from its rubber handle and rolled under the table. “Remove her from my sight!” McGregor and another viper untied Scarlett and hauled her to her feet. Destro grabbed her by the chin and gazed fiercely at her, “You may find it a mistake to lose your usefulness to me.” Scarlett would have spat at him, has she the saliva left. “Clean her up first. Let it not be said that Destro is without mercy. Besides, I don’t want her to ruin my dungeon with her stench .”

  “Gee, thanks,” Scarlett mumbled as they dragged her to the elevator.

  She was taken to a large shower area, she guessed it was for the residing team of troopers. McGregor tore her fouled uniform off her and shoved her under the cold spray. The probes had left her too weak to resist, and she cowered against the tiles, trying to cover herself as McGregor looked on.

  “Don’t worry, girlie, you smell too much for me right now. Here, use this,” he tossed her a rough looking bar of soap. She turned and began to scrub, grateful for this small luxury. The soap felt like sandpaper against her skin, but it felt good to scour off Destro’s touch and the mess she had made of herself. She could sense McGregor watching her. He kept his rifle aimed at her the whole time.

  When Scarlett was finished, McGregor threw a rough looking robe at her, “Put it on, girlie. Your uniform is too far gone for washing out. This is better than you deserve, but it’ll do.” She wrapped the robe around herself and tied the belt. The fabric scratched her skin, rough as burlap. McGregor and the other viper grabbed her by the elbows and towed her to the dungeon. She was thrown into her cell, and the door clanged shut behind her.

  “Get comfy, girlie. You’ll be in there for a long time.” McGregor left four vipersto guard, “Be careful. She’s weak now, but she’ll start feeling her oats soon. She’sa tricky one.” He returned to the communications room, leaving Scarlett alone with her guards and her thoughts.

  It had been close. Mainframe had to tackle thousands of codes, and Scarlett had been unsure if he could get to them all at once. She was lucky he moved so quickly. Had she broken a half hour sooner, Destro would have had access to all sorts of personal and military files. Scarlett remembered the fiasco the Joes had gotten their families into two years before. She shuddered at the thought of her father and brothers in cells similar to hers. Under COBRA control, unsafe from the whims of Cobra Commander.

  She pulled herself onto the palette and sat, her head in her hands. It was cold; she shivered as her wet hair soaked her robe. The blanket was little help. Scarlett felt a tear roll down her cheek.

  Dammit! Don’t cry! she told herself, Blubbering won’t help you now. But Scarlett couldn’t stop herself. The tears began to pour. She pulled her legs up underneath her and huddled against the cold stones, wondering what to do next.

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