The Garrison Chase Series: Books 1-3 by Craig N. Hooper

Author:Craig N. Hooper [Hooper, Craig N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-26T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Little Saigon

Orange County, CA

TWELVE, SIXTEEN, MAYBE eighteen hours ago, Lu experienced the most excruciating pain of his life when a charged cattle prod rammed into his stomach.

That previous pain paled in comparison to what he was currently experiencing. He’d take repeated shocks with a cattle prod over the slow, agonizing pain of being tortured.

Lu was strung up in the former wine grotto turned torture chamber, hanging by a rope on one of the meat hooks embedded into the ceiling beam. His compressed body was folded at the stomach. To keep him in that tight, bowed position, his hands were bound to his ankles and the rope was looped over the meat hook.

He dangled and swung and quietly moaned in pain. His limbs were grotesquely swollen and turning a darker shade of purple with each passing hour. Just breathing was laborious.

Making matters worse was the fact that The Torturer slit his belly. Not a super deep cut, but just deep enough for Lu to slowly bleed out. Earlier he’d felt the blood dripping down the sides of his hips. Now that entire area was numb.

Since he was bent forward and pressing his belly to his thighs, the pressure on the wound most likely kept him alive a little longer. If the ropes were suddenly cut loose, he’d drop to the ground and his intestines would spill out.

Ke Tra Tan knew exactly what he was doing.

Once he’d strung up Lu, the Torturer left the chamber without so much as a word. Nobody was around, so there was no point in yelling or shouting. Even if Lu did try to speak or shout out, he couldn’t make noise for more than a second or two anyway. The pain from moving his diaphragm and stomach was too much to bear.

Knowing how he’d die, and that it wouldn’t be for another day, was mentally torturous. Almost as bad as the physical pain itself.

Distracting him from the ominous thoughts was the sound of distant footsteps, followed by some muffled talking in the corridor. Next, Lu heard the chamber’s door open.

Moments later, a hand smacked across his face.

“Open your eyes, Pham Van Lu,” a voice said.

Moving meant agonizing pain for Lu. Even opening his eyelids was a painful chore, but he did it anyway. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see much. He could, however, feel the presence of a person to his right. It was dark in the chamber and Lu had his eyes closed for who knows how long. He needed time for his eyes to adjust.

The person leaned in and spoke into his right ear. “You forced our hand with this.”

It was the Torturer.

He continued. “We didn’t intend for you to die on this hook; we just wanted you to experience it for a while, a consequence for screwing up the Hans job and trying to flee the country. You knew you were in this for life, Lu. You can’t leave our organization; you know way too much. You sealed your agonizing fate with this.”

The Torturer held a tiny object up to his face.

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