CapturedbytheSS by Gail Starbright Read Free Book Online

my instructors, but damn it, I’m good at what I do.
    Inhaling deeply, I refuse to let the drug knock me out. I
won’t let this overtake me. I won’t tell him anything else. I won’t let him
win!
    “I am not going to cooperate,” I insist angrily.
    He chuckles darkly as he sits down next to me. “Stubborn as
you are, American, I think you will.”
    Despite my best efforts to fight the drug, I once again slip
under the surface of darkness. Pulling against my restraints, I feel the back
of my head sinking back down into the pillow. My limbs turn to mush before my
eyes unwillingly close.
    I hear him slip closer to me. His fingers touch my right
eyelid and cheek. I think he’s checking to see if I’m under by raising my
eyelid. Oddly enough, I don’t see any light. There’s only darkness. I think my
eyes are rolled up. It’s weird…it’s as if I’m unconscious but still aware.
    He actually repeats all of his previous questions, and I
give the same answers I gave before, except he stops me before I repeat the
manual again. Apparently satisfied, he picks up where we left off.
    “Now, American, tell me about these security weaknesses at
the Echelon.”
    I want to say no, but whatever he’s injected me with makes
it impossible for me to hold anything back or to lie.
    I rattle off details about the cameras’ blind spots, known
times when patrolmen change shifts and certain air and maintenance ducts. I
hate telling him these details. These security flaws are our lifeline for our
intelligence department, though we always seem to find ways around their
updates. His pen frantically whispers across paper.
    After about a million questions, he finally stops,
mostly because I start answering everything with, “I don’t know.”
    “Hmm. You’ve certainly given me a great deal of information,
American. Now I wish to know more about you. I need to create a thorough
profile, especially since you tend to behave differently than other American
spies.”
    It doesn’t surprise me that he wants to know more. The Nazis
are notorious for being thorough and meticulous record-keepers. By the time
he’s finished, he’ll probably know my shoe size and the names of my childhood
pets.
    “What do you do when you’re not behind enemy lines?”
    “Study, train, work out.”
    “Are you married?”
    “No.”
    “Any children?”
    “No.”
    “A lover perhaps?”
    “No.”
    I don’t like these questions, but I’m not surprised he’s
asking.
    “Hobbies?”
    “I study, train and work out.”
    He lets out a sigh. He almost sounds frustrated, as if I’m
withholding something. Hell, I never said I was interesting.
    “When was your last sexual encounter? And who was it with?”
    Jeez, these guys really wanna know everything. “I was about
twenty, I think. It was with Steven, my boyfriend at the time.”
    “And how old are you now?”
    “Twenty-four.”
    “American, how many lovers have you had?”
    “One.”
    “One!”
    I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I really hate these
questions, though I guess it’s not exactly a threat to US security.
    “A female American spy is supposed to be promiscuous. One
lover does not constitute promiscuity.”
    Well, excuse me! Honestly, what does this guy want from me?
    “You are not fitting the profile, American,” he
mutters angrily. I hear his pen tapping his notepad.
    It’s not a question, so I don’t say anything. But I can tell
he’s not happy about my answers. I’m not sure I understand why he thinks I’m
supposed to be promiscuous. Is there a rumor that US girls are slutty?
    “Didn’t you like sex?” He sounds a bit exasperated.
    Yeah! “No.” No? Why the hell did I just say that?
    “No? Why didn’t you like it?”
    “It didn’t feel good. It hurt. I tried to like it, I really
did, but I never could. I always faked it with my boyfriend. I faked it for
years.”
    “Why didn’t you try another lover?”
    “Because it felt like such a chore. Sex was always so hard
for