Fic: Prisoners of War, Chapter Two (cont.)

[jeriendhal]

With that they were both stuffed into the back of a cargo steamer, the doors locked and their paws still cuffed. A moment there was a short toot from the engine and they lurched forward, bouncing down the road. Rolas stuffed himself into a corner, pressing his still soaked footmitts against the opposite wall to keep from being jostled.

“They’re going to shoot us, you know that don’t you?” he asked.

Captain Rufus shrugged. “That’s a possibility. On the other hand, we’re the first true military asset to drop into their hands since the start of this little dust-up. I have no doubt they’re going to interrogate us for a good long while before they think of doing anything else.”

“I wish I could share your optimism.”

“Leftenant, if you ever started sharing my optimism, I’d be seriously worrying about you. Anyway, look on the bright side. We’re likely to get unprecedented opportunity to a close up view the Gerwart State Security apparatus.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Rolas said glumly. He shut up and closed his eyes, trying without much success to catch a little sleep.

After what seemed like several hours of bumpy travel, the cargo steamer finally came to a halt. By that time they both starting to feel chilled again, the cargo area being unheated in the early Harvest air, and more importantly neither of them wearing shirts. Rolas could feel his wrists begin to chafe in the twin loops, crossing each other to form a sort of sphere that caught his crossed wrists, that comprised Gerwart handcuff design, and his arms begin to ache. He'd pulled out his left shoulder a bit during the frantic escape from the destroyed airship and it was starting to inform him that maybe an analgesic and warm compresses would be a good idea right about now. Though it didn't seem likely that their hosts were about to provide such comforts.

The doors was unlocked and a pair of guards ushered them out. Rolas blinked in the light, the morning sun just beginning rise above the hills. To his surprise, they were parked outside what could have been a well-to-do Farmer Lord's manor house, not one of the utilitarian concrete blocks that seemed to constitute modern Gerwart architecture.

“Velcome to my headquarters,” Major Softpaw greeted. Despite the fact that she had to have been up all night, the same as her two prisoners, she looked obnoxiously bright and cheerful, not a hair on her tail out of place. Her hench-vixen Swiftfoot looked less composed, hiding a large yawn behind her gloved hand.

“Lovely place,” Captain Rufus said. He yawned widely, arms stretching against his cuffs. “I don't suppose there's tea waiting inside?”

“For you, no.”

“Breakfast?”

“No.”

“A bed?” Rolas asked hopefully.

“Zat ve can give you. You'll even get separate rooms vith your own toilets. Just don't expect much privacy.”

“Just so I can get sleep.”

“More importantly,” Captain Rufus said, his face turning more serious, “when are we going to be permitted to speak with a representative from our government?”

“Vat makes you think we're going to let you do that?”

“We are prisoners of war. It's required in the Treaty of Nations. Your government signed it as well as ours. You're required to let us speak to a representative of the Mother Country government or a neutral party within two days of capture.”

Major Softpaw's smile grew broad as she showed her fangs to her captives. “My dear Captain Brushtail, you are spies that were captured on a reconnaissance mission over a Gerwart naval base, not soldiers. That means you are State Security's problem. And if you think vor a moment you are going to be permitted to relay what you observed to one of your government's representatives you are very sadly mistaken.”

“They'll know we were captured!”

“They'll know you were shot down at least. But they don't know if you are alive or dead, a state of ambiguity I intend on maintaining. And I seriously doubt ze vill press the issue, since your reconnaissance mission would be just the excuse my government vould need to turn this situation into a full blown shooting war.”

TBC