Fifty
“…aren't more polite, then you will miss out on this.”
Against his will, Jason's gaze swung to the third monitor. What he saw there answered the question he had been asking himself since his capture. “But that is for later,” he heard the guard say just before he turned the monitor off. “I need all your attention back here.”
Jason's focus remained fixed on the dead screen of the third monitor. He was tired of playing the guard's games. From that point on there would be no cooperation on his part. He would not give the guard the satisfaction.
“Very well,” his rival sighed. He spoke into the mike on the monitor's console. “Take care of the kid.”
Jason's head whipped around. As he watched the second monitor, the door to Michael's room flew open and a cadre of masked guards surrounded the little boy. Still blindfolded and tied, Michael had no warning of their approach.
The circle of guards partially shielded the little boy from Jason's view. But only for a moment. “Mr. Sorrell is not without compassion,” the guard told Jason. Together they watched the circle of men part. “The little one's death was quick.”
Jason stared, horrified, as one of the men held Michael up by one leg for the camera to see. The little boy's body dangled lifelessly. “Say goodbye,” the guard said.
“He was just a little boy,” Jason protested shakily. He wanted to turn away from the sight before him on the monitor, but couldn't bring himself to do so.
The guard shrugged. “Little boys grow up to be men.”
The uncaring remark ignited the rage Jason felt boiling inside. He marshaled all his strength and lunged for Sorrell's guard. The mob hit man ignored the excruciating pain radiating from his broken and battered body and threw himself across the short distance that separated him from Sorrell's man. Too late he saw the man swing something into place before him.
There was no preventing the cry that was torn from Jason's throat as the cattle prod sent bolts of electricity coursing through his already unsteady system. His momentum had propelled him fully onto the torturous device and Jason felt the full shock of it. He crumpled into a heap on the cold concrete floor.
Stinging slaps brought Jason back to a state of consciousness. “Welcome back, Mr. Morgan,” he heard his captor say. Jason realized that he had been placed back on the narrow cot. “We wouldn't want anything to happen to you yet. There is still a lot more fun to be had.”
