The room was dark and empty, with few lighting elements, the four men hung up by ropes and their hands suspended in a stress position, as the other training soldiers occasionally gave a sharp kick to the stomach, and general torture. Stress positions, slow torture, fast, it had been all varied. Natalie walked in, her boots making noise against concrete, as she slammed the steel door shut. "Welcome to hell." She announced, each man wearing a balaclava, as she chuckled, shaking her head. The men had been here long enough to deprive their sense of time, place, space. They had been hung upside down to disorientate and make them feel sick, and it smelt of it, they had been waterboarded and then fed and given drink, where appopriate. Even SF didn't do this sort of RTT training, this was pure masochism. But torture for information was often that way. The operators had been told to keep a secret, one that they could not spill under any circumstances. All they were to give, was name, number, and PMC. Any other details, were not allowed. "You still do not tell us what we want to know. This is not a game. We are going to carry on till two of you go. You know what to say if you want to leave." Taking one of the men down, she ripped his balaclava off, as he saw her large form towering above, her breasts clearly out, her hair back, this was Natalie alright. They hadn't met her yet, or known her at all. But now, she was playing a game with them. And they would not know what to do. "Name, and number. And what are you." "Mike, Dunn. 05241, Blue Sword." "What group." "I can't tell you that." "What is your mission. You are special forces" "I can't...I can't...tell you that. I'm not special forces." He stuttered, as Natalie shrugged, sitting down. "You are strong, aren't you. You've seen all the games before, like you're a tough cookie. Can't even tell me a little? Let me tell you something. You're not special. Well, I am not playing a game you know. You realise, none of you are leaving until one of you cracks. And I see you as potential meat." Natalie chuckled, coldly, and very Russian-ly. "So, let me try something else. Let me make this decision clearer for you. What you are going to do, is simple. We are going to see if you want this to end easier for you. And then, you get to leave. All you have to do, is take this, and kill that person there." Natalie offered the REX out as she pointed, looking across at the three balaclava wearing men, all the same as one another, all taken in the same state and of same height, feel, texture. It was a choice that would kill his best mate, or some other random. Passing the REX to him, she broke it open, revealing a single round, clicking it back shut. "You are going to shoot them in the head. Or, we are going to hang you back up until one of you breaks. You understand, you are going to spend eternity in this hell, and I will personally see to it that your worst fears are but mere dreams. If you do it, and you, and your friends, get to live. But that man must die." Natalie added, patting him on the back. The others quivered, shaking, gagged now so they couldn't even talk, and so, Mike had no idea who was who, or even if they were his friends....although Natalie knew that neither of the four had seen each other since they had been captured on their training. "What's the problem?" "I...I can't." "Why can't you? You want your friends to suffer? I am offering you the chance, walk away, all but one of you will live. This is no joke. We are operating on our own jurisdiction here, and if you kill him....it will be a training accident. You'll get to end this. Believe me, we have months of this we could do and we could pick a new implement each day. I haven't even touched the ones that really hurt and leave an...irreversible mark." Natalie brooded, as the man took it tight, Natalie's presence enough to make him shit himself, and he had to do something. All of his SF training had not prepared him for her, and in that moment, he had to go with that. But it was a mistake, after all. The man trembled, screaming out as he shot the round, yelling in horror at what he had done, as he looked straight at the other man's body, lifeful in presence, whoever it was he had to just do it. The glass cracked, as Natalie shook her head. Putting the three just apart had worked as it always did. "You are strong. But I knew we broke you already. A torturer would have gotten the same result far quicker. It just took you to betray your own. Guards." The other men ran up, and kicked him, dragging him away, as she tsk'd. "Fucking useless. You don't remember the rules, do you. You are not a lone wolf. You are a pack. And you betrayed your group for your own perceived immediate safety and the implied safety of those you haven't even seen. You have no idea what I could have done. I ensured of that." Natalie added, as the other three shook in fear, Natalie looking on. The rules were simple. While the weakest in the pack would have to accept that they would drop away, this was a decision making process that had been made by someone. The man he could have shot could have been the one carrying mission critical intel, a civilian hostage, or even a head of state. Under a balaclava, and the circumstances, Natalie had briefed them about all of it, and he had given up to that. "One more of you will go. You know the safe word if you want this to end. Only two move on, no exceptions. We will turn you to ash if that is what is required." --------------------------- Natalie giggled, "I only expect the best." She purred, letting him onto her. After the steamy clash, Natalie lay in the sweat and juices, only close by his side, only looking on as she held him and he held her tight, up against each other's enormity, as she looked on. "This never gets old....you really had something special tonight." Natalie giggled, as she rolled about with him on the enormous bed, looking into his charming Nordic eyes, breathing gently as her chest pushed against his. "Hmm....I needed this." --------------------------- The three were there, as Natalie walked in, the men interrogated, and their stories were sticking together still, just about. They were bullshitting their way through and slipping intel slowly, exactly as trained. And none of them knew who either was, strangely enough, given they were isolated on their own on different exercises. They were sleep deprived, and tortured as legally as they could be, but of course, within an inch of that rule. This was soft for the real world, but it had done the trick, and it had weathered them down mentally. This was getting further into the tests, it was one that isolated the men from the boys. In a real situation, nothing like this would occur, but this was a psychological test, and one to simply weed out a team's potential capability to survive. Right about now, they had gone through the absolute worst. Including one tool called "The Elephant", a gas mask hooked up to a safe-ish CS gas supply, that would make them cough and nearly lose any breath they had, it was far worse than Tear Gas and it was meant to drive them mad and cough up their lungs. That and the loud Elvis Presley music on repeat, sure you may have thought it was good once, but imagine playing that to someone, about 500 times and more, over and over again, same song, same fucking time, and literal torture begins. But they had survived that. This was a good bunch indeed. Each balaclava was off the men for the last two days and they were together, as they were given water, and food to eat, respite. And they all sat on the floor, Natalie towering above. "You haven't been compliant. You still won't tell us what you were doing. And your stories are bullshit. You aren't telling us enough, and you are holding back on us what you do tell us. You clearly think you're strong to not be gassed. I have better things to do with my time than waste it on you inhuman sacks of shit. So, I think it is time we changed this little show a little." The two other men looked on in shock, as Natalie sat down, her huge body still putting her at standing height almost above the three on the floor, as she pointed at the middle one. "You. Tell me. What were you doing on exercise." "We're contractors defending a convoy, we got lost. That's all." The man mimicked her slow talk to keep her on his side, as Natalie nodded, chuckling. "Really." The woman next to him on the right looked on, listening to the story, as Natalie turned her gaze to her. "You. Sugartits. Tell me, is that what you did?" The girl looked on, as bloodied and bruised as the other male operators left. "Yes." "And you, dipshit?" She pointed to the man on the left, as he nodded. "Yes, that is what we did." He replied, as Natalie shrugged, sighing. "Really? You're not special forces?" "No, we're just contractors." The girl replied, as Natalie tutted. "Despite all the evidence, you tell me that. Every weapon or tool we showed you that we found on your person. That's Special Forces. And you're bullshitting when you tell me that they give it to you. That is you all over. I can't gas you any further, and waterboarding just won't be very fun. That is next on our list. But I have something better. So, what if I told you I had your fourth man, outside. The one that betrayed you." Natalie added, as they all wanted to raise eyebrows, looking on. It dawned on them what happened. It was him, and they had heard it, the man that nearly had them all. He would have killed one of them. And Andrew had no idea who was left, after all. This was the worst of torture, and normally, was toned back a little. Natalie enjoyed it because this was a little more...extreme as a version went. "You think we dragged poor old Mike out off the course? No, we left him on the rack because he's a sack of shit, right? I'll let you do anything you like to him. But first, you need to tell me what you did." None talked, as Natalie shrugged, looking on. "Do any of you, know, Mike? Mike Dunn?" Natalie asked, as they looked as blank as they could. "See, I think you all do. And if you do, you'll want to hurt Mike. Bring him in." She notioned to one of the guards, as the door opened again, the man dragged in, without a balaclava on. He was clean, wearing a shirt, trousers, he looked well for someone who had been tortured to beyond belief. The three kept blank, but beneath, they wanted to murder him, they fucking hated him, and no doubt, while Mike wasn't around, his role in this programme was not yet complete. "This is him. See, I don't like him either. He fucked you over. Once he was willing to kill one of you, now here he is. He fully co-operated with us and ratted you out. He may have failed, but he is going to survive. I suppose it's lucky he missed." Natalie lied, but knew they were so insomniac to hear the glass break, they wouldn't understand. "And what's worse, I think it would be fun to let him have some food. Mike, you like caviar, don't you?" She asked, as he quietly nodded, out of submission still. "Good boy. Take a seat." Dragging the table effortlessly, Natalie put the table by Mike, noting to him to sit. The guard came in, with a plate of food, bringing it to him. "Mike co-operated. He betrayed you, but look at him. He is cleaner and fitter. Maybe he won't have a chance in life, but he doesn't have to worry, because he's finished and has nothing to lose. Unlike you three, dirty, fuckheads. Who we will carry on with because you have everything and are willing to let each other suffer, rather than give up. You are putting more pain onto one another and it will not stop till one of you snaps As for our guest.......Mike, let me ask you. What is that like?" Mike was speechless, as Natalie leaned on the table, looking at him. "Is it good?" Natalie asked with a burning and psychotic grin, as the man remained silent, Natalie brushing the plate off the table with an astonishing amount of force, the place smashing as the caviar went onto the three men. "He doesn't fucking like it!" Natalie roared, flipping the table over Mike's head, as the man sat there, utterly terrified, his ordeal not yet over. "You know what.....I think I want some entertainment. Tell me now, you don't know him. So it's okay if I walk away, leave you three uncuffed, and him here." Natalie grinned, as she walked up to him, Mike standing up and yelling, as the guards kept a hold of him again, Natalie walking over to the three, and looking back, quietly whispering. "If you want to have your revenge, I am letting you. He betrayed you. And you told me you don't know him. What do I believe?" Natalie asked, as the three looked on. "You know, we've hurt you enough. All this torture. All this pain, to see who breaks. But Mike, Mike, he broke the easiest. We think he deserves justice. And we won't give it to him, if you tell us that he has nothing to do with you. He will walk a free man into the world and they won't know an inch of what he did in this room. I mean, then he's innocent, according to all of you. We'll let him out and he'll carry on living. Knowing he could have killed a man, or Sugartits legally." Natalie whispered quietly into each of them, giggling as she did. "Maybe I'll let him fuck me afterwards too. I bet he would like that. I mean, he has a mighty big cock for such a pussy." Natalie stood again, looking at him, chuckling madly, as she stood, walking to the back of the room, all three without cuffs now. "What a reward for such a coward that would be." Out of the three on the floor, there was one that looked into Mike's eyes the most, as he stood, screaming and throwing a punch, seriously hurting Mike and breaking his nose, seriously done with this shit, and broken entirely, as Natalie yanked him back like a ragdoll. "Well. Seems like someone broke cover. Let your rage take hold. And because of it, you broke your story, because you know someone who already lost, you admitted to knowing them for your own personal bidding. You shouldn't know this man. And yet you do, even after he tried to kill you, because you like revenge. Sugartits, Dipshit, you seem to be the only two left. You, get the fuck out of my face. Guards." Natalie prompted another pair to take the man that was dragged by her, and the two, including Mike, left the room. Shutting the steel door, there were no guards left, only Natalie, Sugartits and Dipshit, as she had affectionately named them. "So, you were strong. You knew that no matter what, you couldn't betray the mission for your own feelings. You held it together for the greater good, knowing one of you would give in eventually, rather than betray one another for pure survival, or seek revenge. You weathered some of the most horrible gas techniques, we have left you in the sun with balaclavas on, starved you, hung you, we have done the worst we can legally do to you. I bet you're both milimeters away from cracking. The good news is, in the real world, sick women like me don't often torture people this way. The bad news is, they'll waterboard you, and torture you far, far worse. Then, you really will need to spin some bullshit a little faster. Are we clear?" The two remaining contestants of this group, the two operators, one male and one female nodded. They had passed the last test, and were cleared for Blue Sword's Recon training, the last step up on a ladder for them that had been a long, long time coming, and the scariest RTT course in the world. Beyond Victor's training already, this was the last part, the last component that slid in, for the moment at least. "Well done. The course is complete. You have been physically broken, mentally pushed, and psychologically conflicted. And in spite of all these knives, you have made it count when you have to. You kept to your story and whilst everything you just saw was fake, I understand there is a shock to the system. You won't be working together on the same team, for starters, so do not worry about what ifs. You'll receive psychological recovery to help you piece the events together, and everything we did and saw in you was monitored on cameras, by a team of doctors and psychologists who understand torture and power dynamics. Everything we did to you, we did to break you down and we would have pulled you out immediately if we saw an extended risk to any of you. But we saw the reality with two of our candidates. And the four that initially gave in, well, they got what they had coming to them. You are here now, the only two who could hold your minds together, hold your emotions back, and make the right decisions under pressure." Natalie added, as she finished, offering both a hand, the guards walking in, and helping out, to treat them and look over them after that ordeal. They were weak, broken, finished, but they were through the line. "Welcome to Recon." ----------------------------------------------------------------- Two Days Later Somewhere near Thule, Greenland The sled was pulled along as the Huskies yapped, the older man behind on skis, a rifle over his shoulder, and a warm, traditional Inuit garb on him, sealskin and some modern warm clothing on, the skies completely sky blue and the horizon filled with nothing but white. The man stopped, as the Huskies fell silent for just one second, the man chambering the Lee-Enfield on a stop here. The distant figure of a stray polar bear in the distance that he had scouted long ago wasn't going to survive. Not with this shot. It was clean to the head, and whilst a bear was normally an incredible creature, the hunter had slain it in one shot. He wouldn't tell what his secret was, but it was really hollow point-style .303 ammunition, rather than his aiming skills, which were still rather excellent, from about 200m out. Stepping away from the sled, the whole thing tied down to the ice, he walked over, quiet and breathing white steam from his mouth, knife all ready, and his tools on his back from the sled. A Polar Bear could yield a lot of meat, and it was meat that could feed his entire family, friends and neighbors. The scene was one of hunting this thing for days and days, and it came down to barely two minutes of focus and stalked concentration. But as he walked, a greater leviathan was around. The sight of an enormous AN-234 flew low over the ice, as the Inuit man looked on, the sight of the jet kicking up ice, even though it was at about 500ft, as he covered his face from the residue and debris. He swore, as best as you can in his dialect Greenlandic Inuit, and watched as it was suddenly followed by six SU-34 Flanker aircraft, braking from high speed as they flew on break around it, into the distance. The man knew his bearings well, and knew the only thing west of him, from this point on the ice, was Thule Air Station. The American airbase in Greenland. A nuclear warning site.