"If you're going to place anyone under arrest, Lieutenant, it should be me", Mofrey said. "I'm in charge of this mission".
"Leave well enough alone, sir", Valentine said. Then to Handley: "I'll surrender my weapon as soon as they're out of here, Lieutenant".
Joho grabbed Mofrey, pulled him back. "Listen to the man. We got daylight coming fast".
When they were gone, Valentine put the gun on the desk and submitted to being patted down and restrained with plastic cording. The stress brought with it a hunger that gnawed at him. Being a Bear meant living with one's appetite as a constant companion.
Bears came and went, but the only one Valentine waited for was goat-bearded Torgo, who returned to report that the PeaBees had left the operations area.
He tried not to listen to the comm chatter. Then he saw a familiar pair of boots step up in front of him.
"Valentine, you're like a bad twenty that keeps showing up in my till", Thunderbird said. "Handley said you were here, but I had to see it for myself. You've done yourself in this time".
"Tell me something, Colonel. How did my father get all this started?"
"You've got more important worries".
Valentine found the courage to beg. "Please".
He clucked his tongue. "Oh, it wasn't here, not in Pacific Command. Kubishev told me about it, actually, never gave me any details. Don't know that you'll get the opportunity to look him up".
"Going to shoot me with the rest of the folks you're murdering?" "God bless 'em, every one", Thunderbird said. "We'll pick this up
in a few hours, Valentine. You'll be traveling, a lot farther than a trip
to the nearest brick wall".
* * *
They threw him in a truck with a hood over his head, chained hand and foot and nudged by what felt like a shotgun barrel every time he rolled too far away from the side of the bay. But he could still hear. There were babies crying all around.
They traveled at a good speed for what he guessed was a little over two hours. To occupy his mind, he counted minutes and scored them off into hours. Routine soaked up fear like a sponge.
Then they parked and quiet women's voices talked as the babies were passed out of the truck, soothing and cooing over the "poor little things". He was the last to leave.
They kept him blindfolded as someone, a woman by the smell of her, fed him, stripped him out of his uniform, and gave him a quick sponge bath. They let him use the toilet. Then they sat him in a room with a ticking fan, hands and legs cuffed to brackets in an electric-chair-like frame. Valentine kept waiting for them to wire his genitals or fillings, but the silent workers left him alone.
Finally he heard someone enter. "Major Valentine?" a precisely clipped voice asked.
"Yes".
"Do you know my voice?"
"Can't say that I do".
"I'm Adler".
"Now I see why I'm tied down", Valentine said.
"Why's that?"
"So I don't go for your throat".
Adler chuckled. "Three experienced Bears with me".
"Okay, I can't kill you. Are you going to kill me?" Valentine wanted it out in the open, to know.
"Me? No. Another? Quite likely. Unless".