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The interrogators had made short work of Sasha, one of the two women captured alive in the raid carried out on information provided by Irina Shumeyko. The mere suggestion of a harsh interrogation caused her to break down and provide a sizeable amount of information to her captors -- much of which was validated by files and notes seized during the operation. She also admitted her role as an associate in a number of rebel attacks, claims that were also backed up by information they had obtained. Her tearful confession was recorded on video and archived for evidence at her eventual tribunal.
Komal, the other young woman seized in the raid, was not so easy. Captured files, corroborated with Sasha's information, indicated that she was second in command of the cell they had infiltrated. As such, she certainly had lots of information about collaborating rebel groups -- she just wasn't talking.
The interrogation proceeded in a similar fashion to Irina's -- the guards forcibly stripped her, suspended her by the wrists, and tormented her body with beatings, electric shocks, and to an extent with pliers. The interrogators were strictly forbidden from mutilating prisoners, breaking limbs, or leaving any permanent wounds: If a prisoner had to be released after being mistakenly arrested, there could be no lasting physical evidence of abuse.
The beautiful, brown-skinned woman was certainly not immune to the pain. She screamed and howled as much as any prisoner, but instead of providing information she responded with insults, taunts, and spitting in the face of her tomentors.
The interrogator began to feel as if he was wasting his time, and opted to approach the captive in a more indirect way. With the help of his assistants, he pulled out the iron horse: A hollow, triangular shaped length of metal elevated some four feet off the ground with sturdy wooden legs. The men hoisted Komal off the ground and centered her on the point of the metal. Using a pair of shackles dangling from the ceiling, they bound Komal's hands behind her back and retracted the shackles, raising her arms into an uncomfortable position and forcing her to lean forward. Komal groaned as all of her body weight pressed down upon her crotch, which rested on the narrow blade of metal. To make matterss worse, the guards shackled her ankles with a spreader bar; from the spreader bar they hung a fifty-pound weight, adding to the force pressing between her labia.
"We'll check up on you a bit later," said the interrogator. He and the guards left the interrogation room, leaving Komal in silent agony. The seconds felt like hours as they passed by. Sweat began to glisten on every inch of her body. The pressure caused her vaginal fluids to flow for a time, but after awhile she dried out and the disconfort grew. Was that a trickle of blood she saw? Komal's breathing grew quicker and more shallow as the pain and discomfort became mind-numbing. What was she going to do? They knew she had information. Would they ever give up, or would they torture her until she confessed... or died?
The door finally swung open and the interrogator came back in. "Looks like you're having a grand old time!" he said. "Are you ready to talk yet?" Komal was silent.
"Oh, now, no reason to give me the silent treatment," the man said as he walked towards his prisoner. "You just need to tell me what you know, and this will all end."
"I told you before, I don't know anything," grunted the dazed Komal. "I was kept out of the loop..."
"I might entertain thoughts of believing that," said the interrogator. "Unfortunately, your friend Sasha provided us with a decent amount of information, and based on everything we've found out, you were more 'in the know' than her in your little cell."
"What the hell did you do to Sasha?" barked Komal between breaths. "I swear, if you laid a finger on her..."
"I assure you, we didn't hurt her one bit. She gave us lots of information, and quite easily," said the interrogator. "Now, what are you threatening to do if we hurt her? You're not exactly in a position to be making demands." As he spoke those words, he wrapped his hands around Komal's perfectly rounded breasts and gently rolled her dark nipples between his fingers. "You seem to forget that you are in no position to stop us from doing anyting to you." Komal, outraged at the indignity, mustered up the saliva to spit in the man's eyes. Angrily, the man opened a cabinet in the back of the room and returned with a device consisting of two pieces of plywood, connected with large bolts.
"I figured you'd appreciate a bit of pleasure among all the pain you're in," the interrogator said with a grin. "I guess I was wrong. This is what we call a breast crusher, and I'm sure you can imagine what it's for." As Komal struggled uselessly, the man fitted the device over her dangling breasts and tightened it until her breasts were painfully squeezed between the two pieces of plywood. She tried her best to suppress any emotion, but her face clearly showed a painful reaction.
"I'll leave you with one more gift before I leave again," the man said. He hung another fifty-poind weight between Komal's legs, making the pressure even more unbearable. Komal let out a quiet, drawn-out whimper. "A few more weights and I think you'll be damaged for life... you might want to talk soon."
The man left her again. The pain in her wrists, her shoulders, her breasts, her crotch... it was almost too much to bear. Could things get any worse?
Her question was answered but a few minutes later when the door to the room opened yet again. The interrogator entered the room, followed by two guards -- between them, they were dragging Sasha, who was crying and screaming beneath a hood that obscured her vision.
"You wouldn't!" screamed Komal. Sasha, at age twenty, was the youngest in their organization; Komal had served as a bit of a mentor to her. While eager to help, she had always been soft -- Komal couldn't envision her in this sort of situation. The guards ripped the hood from Sasha's head, and her eyes bulged at seeing her friend naked and suspented on the devilish contratpion.
"No!" shrieked Sasha, struggling against the guards' grip. "Let her GO!" One of the guards gave her a firm slap in the face, knocking her off balance. The other pinned her against the wall while he tore off her jumpsuit, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Sasha began to sob, trying to cover herself with her hands, but one of the guards grabbed her by her short-cropped hair, banged her head against the stone wall, and threw her to the floor.
Komal screamed in protest. "Don't hurt her! She told you what she knew! She has NOTHING to do with this!" With her weakened voice, her screams were nearly drowned out by Sasha's incoherent sobs for mercy. The guards, indifferent to the pleas, began kicking Sasha with their thick-toed boots as she curled up in a ball, trying to protect her sensitive front side. As this happened, the interrogator retrieved a thick length of chain from the wall and with a furious look in his face cracked it like a whip at the young woman, tearing flesh and leaving nasty-looking wounds across Sasha's body.
Komal could take the pain they inflicted to her, but this was too much.
"Leave her alone!" she cried between tears at seeing her friend in so much pain. "I'll tell you everything I know!"
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