The Man From U.N.C.L.E: A Mission In Istanbul

Chapter 26: The Torture Game

"Now, Miss Teller." Waverly started, walking over to the instruments next to her, including knives and scalpels. "These didn't seem to work."

Illya could feel his breath getting heavy. He was angry, but he felt something else when he saw Gaby tied up in the chair, her dressed ripped and tattered and her shoes removed. Her chin was split open and limps were hanging like a puppet's. Her head was battered on each side, and her nose was running with thick, red blood. She seemed like she barely had the energy to look up at the spies. Many tears had obviously been running down her face. It was as if they left a scar on her cheek. There seemed to be scars etched everywhere. Gaby tried to open her mouth, but her voice was hoarse. She'd been screaming in agony. Illya's stare turned to her hands. What had they done to her fingers?

"Admiring my work?" Waverly saw Illya looking at all the pain they had caused Gaby. "Oh, the fingers..." He grabbed one of her fragile hands. They looked like porcelain; they were pale and fragile and they looked like they would smash into tiny fragments all over the warehouse floor if you did so much as jolt them with a small amount of force.

"What have you done?" Simona cried as she saw them.

"Nice of you to ask, Miss Veranda. It's an old technique I like to use. I actually used it on the previous commander of the British agency, but that's another story all together..." He chuckled. "You take a scalpel," he started, picking up the scalpel from the tray, "and you slowly carve a line vertically through each finger so the flesh splits and lots of blood pours out." He points at the floor stained with Gaby's crusted blood. "She cried the most at that, but still wouldn't say a word. Almost impressive, I thought at the time."

Waverly clicked his fingers as if operating a show. In unison the guards all targeted their snipers at Simona, who looked back at them with fear in her eyes.

Waverly turned his attention back on Gaby. "Now Miss Teller we'll play a game. You say where your father hid the rest of the blueprints, or your friends die. Your choice."

"I'm not afraid of you," Gaby's raspy voice could barely be heard, but Illya heard it. It made him tense up.

"But you should be," Waverly whispered in her ear. "Speak!" He yelled.

Gaby bit her lip and looked at Simona. She was about to open her mouth, when Simona smiled faintly at her and shook her head. Tears flooded down both Gaby and Simona's cheeks, as Gaby closed her mouth again, defiant to Waverly. She wouldn't talk.

Waverly shook Gaby's chair and yelled impatiently. "You want to play like that? Fine!" He nodded at his men.

The next moment seemed to go in slow motion, as the rebel men pulled the trigger on their snipers without hesitation.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three guns shots from different snipers go off. The bullet precisely soars through the sky and reaches destination: in Simona's chest. She falls back, the hole in her blouse flooding with water staining her skin underneath the blouse. Blood starts to seep down the corner of her mouth as she quivers slightly. Gaby can't do much more than scream as she sees the woman who was so kind to her die because she wouldn't give the enemy information. Solo lunges on to the ground by Simona and takes her hand, which is quivering every now and again with small spasms. Solo tries to say something, but his mouth is dry. All he could do was stare at her. This woman was different than all the other countless beautie he had met overseas in many countries completing missions for the CIA. She was strong, independent and definitely not easy. She was his idea of perfect. Now she lay on the floor, choking on her blood, which had now formed as a pool on the ground. Simona's eyes danced around, almost as if she was trying to find a way out. As if it wasn't too late to find a way out. She gave one last gasp, and then...

Nothing.

Simona was dead.

Solo turned back to Waverly, his anger matching lllya's. Gaby was struggling against the ties in the chair. Her screams had become hysterical as she repeated Simona's name again... and again... and again until it the name Simona was just a blur.

Waverly decidedly turned back to Gaby and smiled at her. "So, Miss Teller." A wisp of hair clung to her cheek, damp with tears and sweat. He brushed it away. "Can you tell me something about those blueprints or..." He clicked his dreaded fingers again. This time, the squadron of men pointed their snipers at Solo and Illya. "I'm not playing around this time, Miss Teller."

Gaby looked into Illya's eyes. She sensed the fear, but not only that. Overwhelmingly, he was scared for her. He didn't care about himself. He didn't care about getting shot. Death was something an agent stood beside every day. He was scared of Gaby dying. After he got shot, he knew she would be killed either way before she could protest. Or she would be tortured continuously. The future was bleak for both of them and Illya sighed, letting out all the oxygen from his lungs before he was shot. He closed his eyes, trying to transport himself away from the rest of the world.

"I'll tell you, Waverly."

Illya opened his eyes and looked over at the chair. Gaby was staring straight at home, the horror taking over her body.

"I'll tell you." She repeated and looked at Waverly. "If you put the snipers down."

Waverly clicks at his men again, and the snipers go down. "I'm waiting Miss Teller. If you cause anymore waiting, the snipers will right up at your friends skulls and they won't be afraid to shoot."

Gaby cleared her throat. "My father and I had a holiday home in Munich and we would go there every year until I was five. That last year, he was working on some blueprints. I found them, and I told him that the blueprints looked scary. He showed me and said they were for a weapon more powerful than anyone ever had. He'd hidden half of the blueprints in Berlin, and half of them in Munich in case someone found them and some crucial parts would be missing. The rest of the blueprints are in our Munich holiday home." Gaby sniffed and her lip quivered. "He said the weapon should never be built unless to destroy something more evil than mankind..."

Waverly smiled, triumphant. "Wise, touching words, Miss Teller. Your father would be proud. I want the exact address of the place in Munich please."

Gaby sniffed again, defeated. "Eight-five, Madelegrabelstraße, Munich, Bavaria. You'll find them in the cupboard under the pantry behind all the towels and plates in a sealed envelope with my name on it."