Ferndale's Second War of Independance VI

“Did anyone die in the explosion?” John asked. If the major wasn’t going to try anything interesting he was going to satisfy his own curiosity.

“Your badly planed attack failed, not one of my men died,” the major boasted, though he was a little unnerved to see John look happier to hear it.

“What about injuries?” John asked.

“One or two, nothing serious,” the major tried again. No one he knew who would risk their life to attack the enemy like this man in front of him had done would be happy to hear they had caused no injury but now he was almost beaming.

“Then I have fulfilled my mission,” John said happily. He added mentally, well at least the part assigned to me by the rulers, which is what really counts.

“Your mission was to blow up a lot of sand?” the major asked.

“That’s about right. I am only supposed to be a warning to you, telling you what we have. If you won’t back away from the city then we will be forced to use the attack I demonstrated against your actual men. It would be inhuman, and our rulers feel in blood thirsty, but they are already preparing another person to follow after me if anything else happens,” John explained. “I did exactly what I was sent to do.”

“Was that worth your life?” the major asked. John looked him in the eye and didn’t yield, though he could feel just the tiniest hints of doubt entering around the edges of his mind. John was as much a pacifist as the rest of Ferndale but he was getting the vague feeling that he would rather die killing then threatening to kill.

“Would you kill someone because they blew up sand?” John asked. Even if he was doubtful he would never let the major see that, it wouldn’t be professional.

“I am supposed to take you at your word that that’s what you were trying for?” the major asked.

“I don’t know whose word you’re supposed to take, unless you feel like walking up to the city walls and asking them if they meant to do that. I somehow think that someone would drop a large rock on you before you got up to the wall.” The major stared at John uncomprehending for a second and then called for him to be taken away.

Being questioned by the major hadn’t been unpleasant, or dull, but what came next was. John was stripped of his nice black clothing, like all the spies he had warn the finest cloth that Ferndale had to offer, and it was replaced with whatever random rags they could find. They seemed to feel that having a prisoner be better dressed then they were was an insult to the natural order. John had the feeling that if the enemy had a dungeon he would have been thrown into it. As it was they did the best they could with tents and army food, which was only slightly better then bread and water. The siege had gone on for some time and the farmers didn’t give the army the best food available. The best food available, even for all of the money that the underground cities paid the farmers, went to Ferndale. Farmers were never stopped, even if the city they were entering was under siege, if you insulted the farmers, you didn’t eat. Ferndale was in luck, the farmers sided with them.

John continued to be tied up through the next few days. He started to wonder what the other spies were doing, whether they would come and save him or let him rot. He could imagine Tom beside himself with anger at John for getting caught and that was an image that got John through a lot. Tom would be angry with him certainly, but it would be the anger that was filled with relief that he was alright. John was sure that he would never tell Tom that he had gotten caught on purpose.

John knew enough about the tactics of interrogation to know that he was being allowed to simmer and consider what his fate was going to be. None of the spies had received formal training to combat such tactics, but that was because Tom had total confidence in his employees, which was the best training any of the spies could have had. Not one of them was willing to let Tom down.

It was a much more disheveled and thin John who was once again taken in front of the major, his attitude hadn’t shrunk however. It was generally suspected that attitude was one of the things that Tom looked for when choosing a spy, and John as his second in command, had more then his fair share of it. There wasn’t a single spy who didn’t wear attitude like a suit of armor and John was fully ready to take advantage of this, now that his confidence was waning with time. He had had far too much time to think to stay certain that he was going to be fine, far too much time alone to think about everything that could happen to him. Attitude was the only thing that he had left.

“What do you want?” was the first thing John said, once he was alone once more with the major.

“Is that a position for you to take? By now I’m sure you have realized that I hold your life in my hands. You have been fed so far but if you annoy me I might change that.”

“Go ahead, but if you want to kill me I’d rather you do it outright,” John said, feigning indifference. He wasn’t about to give the major any leverage to use against him.

“How old are you?” asked the major, changing tactics.

“Twenty-two,” John said, honestly. He didn’t understand the question but it wasn’t delicate information that should be hidden from the enemy.

“And at your age you’re so dedicated to your city,” the major said, shaking his head and straddling the back of his chair so he was facing John. John had the feeling that the formality of the situation was temporarily suspended and tried to relax as well, as best as he could while still bound hand and foot. “You know, I wish we had soldiers half as good as you,” the major continued.

“You’re from Yose right?” John asked. “Well then you have at least one loyal soldier, he stabbed me in the last war. You should see the scar on my arm. It isn’t every man who would betray his friends to go back to his home. You should be proud.”

“What’s his name?” the Major asked but John shook his head. Ivor was delicate information; he didn’t want someone who knew that much about Ferndale back on the front lines. After the last war they had spent a lot of time threatening Ivor until he understood that his life would be forfeit if he joined the Yose army again. He would hate for Ivor to be tempted by a personal invitation from a major.

“So good at knowing how to keep your mouth shut as well. Are you really a foot soldier? You don’t act like one,” the major commented. “You act like an officer and that would be ridiculous at your age in the underground armies but you aren’t in the underground army. I’ve seen people my daughter’s age wearing officer’s uniforms on your walls.”

“You don’t really expect me to answer questions like that do you?” John asked, and he actually found himself smiling. “I am no one really important if that’s what you’re asking. I was disposable enough to be allowed to volunteer for this job, that’s enough. And no matter what you think, I was ordered not to kill anyone with that explosion and I didn’t want to, so I’m not really dangerous either.”

To be continued...