Third Person - Complete

What do you need?

It was nearly midnight according to the grandfather clock against the wall of KGB Colonel's office. There was lightning outside, playing in the clouds, the thunder vibrating the large bay windows.  Stepan was sitting in the chair, next to the desk, facing away from the windows. The KGB Colonel sat behind the desk, two glasses of brandy in front of him.

The door to the office opened, revealing the Beast flanked by two guards. Her face was bruised, one of her lips split, and her grin revealed that she was missing several teeth. She was dressed only in a pair of panties and a bra, her body bearing mute testimony to the fact that she had been tortured. She had a metal collar around her neck, attached to two short sticks that the guards were using to control her movement. Her hands were shackled together, three of her fingers were bent and twisted, the swelling showing that the breaks were recent.

"Please, Sergeant Cromwell, if you'll join me," The Colonel said, waving at the chair.

The two men went to pull her forward and she braced her feet, stopping them from pulling her forward. The turned, grabbing the sticks with both hands, set their feet, and pulled at her. She collapsed on the ground, pulling them both off balance.

Muttering swears the two men dragged Cromwell to the chair and pulled her up into it. She kept sliding down, forcing the two men to hold her in place.

"Sergeant Cromwell, first, my apologies for how you have been treated. I did not return from Moscow until today," The Colonel said.

"My name is little Bongo," The woman sang. "I sing my little song-o. Whenever I get called upon the teacher says I'm always wrong-o!" Her voice got louder and louder as she sang.

The Colonel just lit himself a cigarette, smiling. One of the guards raised his hand to strike her and she looked up, smiling, still singing the nonsense song loudly.

"Nyet," The Colonel snapped. The guard stopped, stepping back, holding the stick and watching Cromwell closely.

"I know that you understand and speak Russian, Sergeant Cromwell," The KGB officer said.

Cromwell fell silent, staring. She yanked her arms apart, the three chain links clacking. She did it twice more, the last time pulling hard enough that blood started seeping from the edge of the shackles as her muscles stood out. After a moment she went slack, staring at first the KGB Colonel and then at Stepan. Her eyes were bloodshot, bruised looking, her lavender eyes not even glowing. She winced at the light, blinking.

"Might want a doctor to straighten that nose, champ," Cromwell smiled. "Not sorry, by the way."

Stepan colored but just nodded, remembering the KGB Colonel's orders to not be aggressive or show anger while he questioned Cromwell.

"Sergeant Cromwell, shall we dispense with the acrimony and threats and simply move to the reason I brought you here?" The Colonel asked.

Stepan lit a cigarette of his own.

"Can I have one?" Cromwell asked, licking her lips and leaning forward slightly.

The Colonel tossed the cigarettes and a book of matches to her. She nodded, getting out a cigarette and using the match to light it. She dropped the match on the carpet, staring at the two men at the desk.

The match caught part of the carpet, and the Beast stared at the two men defiantly.

One of the guards holding a stick stepped forward and stomped on the flame.

Cromwell lifted her knee up to her chin and lashed out, hitting the guard's knee. It bent to the side with a loud crack, the man falling down. The other one yanked on the collar, pulling her up, the veins on his forehead standing out as Cromwell gagged against the collar.