Rivero lay naked on the cracked, dusty cement floor, breathing the musty air that smelled of mold. The rows of overhead candescent light bulbs were out, except for those directly over his small floor space. Outside the ten-foot diameter of light cast over the floor, a thick curtain of darkness cloaked assorted shadows and shapes created by the old power looms and warping racks.
Rivero’s hands remained cuffed behind his back, his legs trussed. He felt the crusted filth on the insides of his thighs and knew that he’d pissed himself. He understood interrogation techniques, and the power of dehumanizing and degrading the subject. They sought to destroy his dignity and wear him down, destroy his will.
Six hours after the injection, he still experienced the effects of the combination of drugs in his system. He felt nauseous, and his heart and pulse raced. Despite the warm air, he felt chills throughout body. He rested his head back against the floor and shut his eyes, trying to conserve his energy and strength.
He never heard anyone approach, but when he felt something nudge his shoulder, he opened his eyes to see four men standing over him. They wore ski masks and civilian clothes — jeans or shorts and t-shirts — with latex gloves. Each man had a black armband wrapped around their right bicep, denoting their AUC membership.
Avery and Aguilar stood on either side of Daniel in the dark, unseen by the prisoner. They no longer wore their masks. There was no need. They’d crossed the point of no return, and Rivero would never leave this place alive.
The Black Eagles made no introductions and issued no threats to Rivero and asked him no questions. They simply and methodically got down right to business.
Two Black Eagles spread out a large sheet of clear plastic over the floor and taped it down around the edges. Then they dragged Rivero onto the plastic. He was nearly deadweight, his body too weak to resist. They restrained him by his ankles and shoulders, underneath the lights.
Another Black Eagle turned on the electric drill and brought it up to speed.
Rivero watched, silently but horrified, as the Black Eagle crouched near him and calmly pressed the tip of the long, thin spinning drill bit to the center of his kneecap, holding it there for a second before pressing it in. The spinning, threaded metal burrowed through flesh, bone, and cartilage with little resistance. A cloud of red mist and white-gray bone dust filled the air.
Rivero thrashed and shuddered. Suddenly all sensation had returned to his body and the drug-induced clouds cleared from his mind. The Black Eagles held onto him to keep him still. His high-pitched screams bounced off the factory walls.
When the tip of the bit finally emerged through the soft tissue behind the knee, the Black Eagle clamped a hand onto Rivero’s leg to hold it steady as he pulled the drill back with the other hand. The grooves of the bit scraped against bone and snagged tissue on its way out. Blood poured steadily through the tiny hole, collecting on the floor. As his body slipped into shock and released natural pain killers, Rivero gradually stopped screaming and relaxed. He rested his head back and stared up at the low ceiling as he tried to place his thoughts elsewhere and detach himself from what was taking place.
Avery watched from the shadows, unflinching and transfixed. He didn’t avert his gaze once. He wasn’t moved by Rivero’s trauma, but Rivero’s determination surprised him.
The color had drained from Rivero’s face, and he sweated rivulets. His eyelids fluttered. The Black Eagle holding onto his shoulders slapped Rivero a couple times to bring his attention around and keep him from passing out.
Now that he was softened up, had a sampling of what was in store for him, the Black Eagles questioned him in Spanish.
When Rivero failed to provide satisfactory responses, the drill was turned on once more, and this time it went through the opposite kneecap, followed immediately by an elbow. In the process, they had to splash a bucketful of water over Rivero to prevent him from slipping away. There was only so much the body could take before it shut down.
“He’s not going to talk,” Avery said quietly.
Rivero would have talked already if he could be coerced by pain alone. After this, continuing to put holes in him simply wouldn’t be productive, but the Black Eagles still enjoyed the effort. A part of Avery admired Rivero’s conviction. Even the most hardcore, dedicated jihadists gave in after just a couple minutes of relatively harmless water boarding.
“He’ll die before he betrays her. These guys better change tactics, because I have a feeling Rivero can go through this all day.”
“I believe you’re right,” Daniel said after several seconds, checking his watch, “but we still had to try. I sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, but it’s become necessary to threaten Senor Rivero with something he may value more than his own life.”
Avery hadn’t been briefed beforehand on Daniel’s interrogation strategies, and what happened next came as much a surprise to him as it must have for Rivero.
Three of the Black Eagles walked away from the interrogation floor into a back room, out of sight, while the fourth paramilitary lined up four wooden chairs.
Rivero watched them with a permeating sense of dread, and Avery shared the feeling.
Avery soon heard Spanish speaking voices coming from the back room, and he was sure he heard a woman’s voice, muffled and afraid, until it was cut short by the sound of a slap.
A minute later, he saw movement through the shadows.
When they stepped out from the dark, under the lights, Avery saw them.
The Black Eagles dragged a tall woman with black hair and soft features, along with two girls and a boy, to the chairs and instructed them to sit down. The oldest of the children looked to be in her teenage years, while the other two were both below the age of ten. They reacted in shock and horror at the sight of their husband and father exposed, broken, and bleeding on the floor before them. Even from behind the thick strips of utility tape plastered over their lips Avery heard the muffled, whimpering cries from the females and the boy.
Avery tensed and glanced over to Daniel for an explanation.
“The Black Eagles picked them up yesterday afternoon, shortly after I contacted them,” Daniel said.
Avery didn’t need to ask who they were. He knew from the dossier on Cesar Rivero that the man had two daughters and a son, and hadn’t seen them since he’d come to Bellavista.
“You told them to do this?” Avery asked.
“I instructed them to do whatever they felt was necessary.”
When Rivero attempted to get up, a Black Eagle kicked him in the chest, toppling him over, and then kicked him in the side.
The other Black Eagles started to tie the woman and her children to the chairs. When Rivero’s wife resisted, she was punched twice in the side of the head. When the boy tried to defend his mother, jumping out of his chair, he was backhanded across the face and landed on the floor near his father. As a Black Eagle grabbed onto the boy and hoisted him back up, Rivero looked into his son’s eyes and told him that it would be okay, but his voice wavered. Neither of them believed the lie for a second.
“What the fuck is this, Daniel?” Avery’s voice barely rose above a whisper.
Daniel didn’t respond.
Avery silently willed Rivero to cooperate, for the sake of the noncombatants, but Avery also didn’t think that it made much difference at this point. The Black Eagles enjoyed inflicting pain for the fuck of it. They got off on the suffering of their victims, and terrorizing them before finally killing them, and they’d already gotten a taste of blood.