Men At Arms.

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After a while of joking around and filling his stomach in the mess hall, Buck went down to see Ortega for her report on Fucker. "So, how was the patient?" he asked as he sat down beside her in the currently vacant medical tent. "Well, he wasn't much of a talker, but he wasn't much for cooperation either. I had Wilson take him down to his cell. Do you have any plans for the prisoner?" Buck couldn't help but grin for a moment before he answered her. "Well... Provided he doesn't just up and immediately talk, we have a day of torture planned for him. Of course, either you or Madeline will have to keep watch to make sure he doesn't just fall over dead." At the mention of having to provide supervision, Ortega's frowned. "Buck, you know I don't like violence, I signed on as a doctor to take care of people. Madeline will have to do it." Buck simply nodded and gave her a pat on the back as he stood up to leave. "Alright then, I'll go find her and let her know." with that, he walked out of the medical tent.
 
As he woke up in the morning, Arron would not look out. Why would he? All that would be there would be a bunch of people out to get secrets out of him. He had no reason to rush that, quite the opposite. All he hoped for now was an hour or so of peace and quiet.
 
After Buck had walked out of the medical tent, he went to his barracks and almost immediately fell asleep. He woke up bright and early in the morning, ready to get what answers he could out of Fucker. Motioning for Simmons to follow him with a finger, Buck made his way down to the containment cells, practically kicking in the door when he arrived. "GOOD MORNING FUCKER!" he yelled as walked to his cell. "Ready for a fun filled day? Well, actually, the Simmons and I will be having the fun, you will probably be screaming like a little bitch as we do who-knows-what to you. Ain't that right Simmons?" Simmons gave an emphatic nod and grinned, obviously with evil intentions in mind. Buck opened Fucker's cell door and slapped restraints onto him once more, then dragged him down the long hallway, down a flight of stairs, and down another hallway that had only one door in it. Shoving that lonely door open revealed a dimly lit room, with a single chair in the middle of it.
 
Arron blinked and sat up. Apparently he wouldn't. As he was once again being lead towards his final destination, he sighed. This'd be rest of his life. There's nobody who'd rescue him, he wasn't even the top sniper in the squad.

He sighed again, but right then, they arrived. An entire room and only one chair? He knew where this was going. He still refused to move, though.
 
"Alright Fucker, you ready for the fun to start? You can stand around a resist as much as you want, but shit is still going to happen." With that being said, Buck pushed him into the room and shoved him again down to the chair, which was apparently bolted to the floor. "Simmons, why don't you go and grab the 'tools' that we will be using to extract our info out of this Lil' bastard." Simmons nodded gladly and proceeded to walk to a far corner of the room.
 
"..." Arron once again didn't answer, and just stared at the man who should actually be dead by now. He still couldn't help but wonder what tools they were going to use. While unlikely, he could only hope that it wouldn't be too painful to endure.
 
As Buck waited for Simmons to bring the tools, he grinned at Fucker. It was not a comforting grin, nor was it one with any inclination towards friendliness. "You're in for a world of hurt you little shit. You should of fucking killed me." With that, Simmons returned with tray full of what could easily be called primitive tools. Simply items ranging from pliers, to broken glass adorned the tray. "Simmons, would you be so kind as to tie up Fucker?" Buck asked as he perused his available selections. He waited until Fucker was securely fastened, then grabbed a sizable shard of glass. Forcing his mouth open, Buck placed the shard on his teeth, making contact with Fuckers inner cheeks. Closing Fucker's mouth, again by force, he delivered an uppercut right to his chin, shattering the glass, and infallibly cutting the inside of his mouth.
 
"Thank you, I was trying." He said angrily before his mouth was forced open. AS the entire procedure followed, Arron always tried to push the glass out with his tounge, as he knew what was about to happen. However, he was pretty much unable to, as he felt his jaw forcefully close. He clenched his eye and prepared for the immense amount of pain that he'd feel in a second. As guessed, that wasn't enough, and he let out a pained scream as the glass cut open various places in his mouth as he spat it out. "F-FUCK!" He said out of reflex as he spat some more blood out.
 
"Scream some more bitch!" Buck yelled in joy. It could be said that Buck might have had a little bit of a sadistic streak to him. "How's it taste Fucker?" Before he let him answer, which he assumed Fucker wasn't going to anyway, Buck now grabbed a pair of pliers and leaned down towards Fucker's hands, which were strapped to the chair. Grabbing Fucker's finger nail, Buck started to pull on it, fully intent on yanking off his cuticle, which was sure to hurt like a bitch. "You gonna fucking talk yet? Who is your leader, Where is he located?" he figured that some basic questions were appropriate, and that Fucker would eventually wisen up and talk.
 
And sure enough, Arron screamed like a bitch. The excruciating pain of having his finger nail torn off mixed with his wounds inside his mouth made him breathe rapidly, and scream even more... But no answers.
 
"Come on, how fucking stupid are you? The sooner you talk, the sooner it's over. We've got all day, and nothing better to do, so you're stuck with us till you talk." Buck was rather enjoying Fucker's pain, and watched as nothing was left of his nail except the soft pink flesh underneath. "You got nine more fingers to go, and plenty of teeth. You're move. Talk, or we keep pulling"
 
He winced a tiny bit as he poked him, but kept his angry expression. "I... I can't... I just can't tell you... Just k-kill me instead..." He said as he coughed some more blood. "I'm stuck with you fucks anyway..."

At that moment he remembered something. The tracker in his comm. Perhaps all wasn't lost just yet. His squad could still find him, given time... He decided not to get cocky, though.
 
"How about no, I will not kill you. You gotta give us some answers first before we offer you the luxury of death. Maybe, if you're good, we'll give you a rope in your cell so you can hang yourself." Buck now started to toss the pliers back and forth in his hands as he smiled at Fucker menacingly. After a little while of that, he put the pliers in his right hand and forced open his mouth again with his left. "Alright, tooth time." He stuck the pliers on one of his molars and started to pull, gradually increasing his force.
 
"Tooth pulling? Is this the best they can do?" He thought as his now bloodified tooth was being pulled out violently. He let out a bit of a grunt every single time that his target would increase the force.

All he could think of was to stay silent. That took all of his willpower at the moment, and it was his sole mission until someone arrived.
 
"Come on you dumb fuck, all I want you to do is talk, how hard is that? Or are just a really stubborn motherfucker? I can go back to pulling nails, which is actually what I think I'm gonna do." Buck now yanked the tooth out all of the way, then moved the pliers back down to Fucker's nails. "which one do I want, middle, pinkie, ring? Ah fuck it, I'll just go with the ring finger, it's not like you were going to get married anyway." Putting the pliers on Fucker's ring finger nail he started to pull once more. "You know, I have much more painful means of making you talk."
 
As much as he tried to, he couldn't keep himself from letting out a pained noise as the pulling went on. "G-Good to know..." He said once the nail was pulled all the way.
 
"Alright, fuck it, this has so far yielded no results. On to the next thing! You gonna lose yourself some fingers Fucker." Buck now tossed the pliers back onto the tray and grabbed a rather large knife. "We'll start with the pinkie, then we'll make our way over to the thumb, cutting off every little piggy till we get there." He grinned maliciously, "Doesn't that just sound like fun? No, don't say anything, I don't care what you think." Buck now put the knife to Fucker's little finger, gradually applying pressure as he began to saw back and forth. He started to sing a jovial tune as he did so.
 
"Gah!" Arron winced as his finger was starting to get cut off. "D-Damn it! Damn you to hell!" He screamed out before screaming some more pained noises. He could live without the pinky finger... But hopefully, reinforcement could get there before they got his trigger finger...
 
"You know, I might take offense to that, were I the type of person to give a shit. But I'm not, so, shut up." Buck now drove the knife as hard as he could, slamming it through his finger, which promptly fell on the floor. "Simmons, go get Mongrel, this might make a nice treat for him." He now turned to face Fucker, "I hope you didn't have any hope of getting these reattached, cause they're going to get turned into dog shit." Buck watched as Simmons exited the room and he waited a few minutes until Simmons came back with Mongrel, a large Gardonian muck hound that had been found wandering the base and had been taken in. The hound looked up excitedly at Buck as he reached down and picked up Fuckers removed finger. "You want a treat boy? You want it? Go get it!" Buck tossed the finger into the air and Mongrel happily caught it, then munched noisily as the attention was turned back to Fucker. "You still have quite a few fingers left, and I think Mongrel is kind of hungry. Are you gonna talk yet?"
 
He yelled loudly as his finger was being cut one last time, leaving but a bleeding stump at the edge of his palm. He clenched his teeth and glared at his captor, before sighing in defeat.

"F-Fine..." This was going against everything that he was trained to do... But he just couldn't bear it. "I'm talking, y-you sadist..."
 
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