The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) by Brian Terenna (motivational books for women TXT) 📕

into a dim room with no windows. I tumble to the ground and roll several times. I’m wearing nothing but my underwear since they stripped off my vest, weapons, clothes, and even the two extra q-links I had cloaked on my ankles. They only left me with my necklace vial that contains the Evo, probably to mess with me. At least they didn’t install it.

“Don’t hurt her. She’s just a kid,” growls Americus, who is stripped to his boxers and on his knees, bruises all over his body. The bloody gash on his forehead and his ripped physique make him look dangerous, despite his handcuffs.

I appreciate his support, but I wouldn’t even be here if not for him. How could he not know the imposter wasn’t his friend? It makes me want to rage at him for failing me, Nav, and everyone else. But I can’t think about that now. I need to focus on getting out of here.

Two burly men yank me up by my arms and hold me tight.

“She didn’t seem like a kid when she was shooting my people,” says a man with beady eyes and pale skin. He holds a baton that he repeatedly taps into his palm. “You can call me Captain Bosu. You’re both very resourceful. I should have known, since you’re an ex-Marine, Americus. Too bad your apprentices won’t have a chance against the assault team I sent.”

Acid burns my stomach at the words. But maybe they can win. They’re always prepared for an attack, and Alexander is a warrior.

“You’ll pay for this,” says Americus.

Bosu chuckles. “I doubt it. Either way, I’ll be interrogating you now. Director Tempton instructed me to install the Evo in you, Americus, but I prefer to use pain.”

Americus growls. “If you hurt her, I’ll—”

Bosu smacks Americus across his face with his baton, then raises it to strike again.

“Don’t,” I yell.

The corners of the captain’s thin lips pull up into a smile. “Beg for his life, and I’ll let him live, assuming he tells me what I want to know.”

I hate the thought of begging this pale disgusting demon, but I can’t let Americus die. It will destroy Nav. “Please, don’t hurt him. Please.”

Bosu laughs. “Nice begging, but I doubt it will change my mind.”

Oh hell no.

He wheels on Americus. “Who is your weapon supplier? Who are your other contacts? Do you have other assets in the government? Where are your other cells?”

Americus spits on the captain.

Bosu wipes the spit from his face, hate in his eyes. “Inject him with coagulant and use the drill.”

Another guard takes an electric drill from a case, then tests it. The drill bit whirrs. My stomach roils at the thought of what’s next.

Two other guards inject Americus and then hold him as the third drills into his foot. Americus screams until they retract the drill. Captain Bosu repeats his questions.

Americus stares daggers at him and says nothing, despite his brutal wound. Bosu nods to his guards, who drill his other foot.

The process of asking questions and drilling Americus’ feet, hands, arms, and legs continues for hours.

Anytime I tried to pull away to help or shouted for them to stop, the two guards holding me smacked me in the face. It makes me sick that someone would resort to torture just to maintain power. And it makes me sicker they’re doing it to Nav’s father.

Captain Bosu throws his hands up in frustration. “How can one man take so much pain?”

“I’ll give you one last chance, Americus. Tell me what I want to know, or you’ll regret it.”

I wonder what he could possibly do at this point.

Americus grinds his jaw and says nothing.

Bosu shrugs. “Hold her arms out.”

The two guards holding me pull my arms outward as Bosu steps up with his baton.

Americus’ eyes widen. “Don’t. I’ll tell you.”

“Too late.” The captain lifts his baton with a sadistic smile.

I cringe back, sick with anticipation.

He drops his arm with a growl, and the baton cracks down on my forearm. My arm snaps, and gut-wrenching pain shoots through me. I scream and try to pull away, only to have another wave of pain dominate me.

My vision darkens, and my body is shaky and weak. After a few terrible moments, I force the pain away, refusing to give in. The jagged edge of my bone sticks through my skin. Blood streams down my arm, onto the floor below.

“Now tell me,” says Bosu, “or I’ll break her other arm.”

Americus slumps and starts to talk. It sounds like he gives up every contact and asset he has.

“One more thing Americus, and I’ll put you out of your misery,” says the captain. “Where are Gabriel O’Brien and the Knights of Christ’s hideouts?”

Americus looks at me, a guilty expression on his face, but he says nothing.

Bosu steps up to me, lifting his baton, but rather than striking, he lowers it. “I don’t think the director will like it if I hurt her too much.”

Bosu rips a Trexstar forty-five APC with eight-round capacity from a holster at his hip. “Tell me, Americus, or I’ll take your pain to the next level.”

Americus scowls. “Rot in hell, scumbag. You got me?”

Bosu fires four shots into Americus’ left knee, then three more into his right.

Americus screams and writhes in agony.

“Give him a blood transfusion,” Bosu says to one of the guards. “We’ll keep him alive for days if necessary.”

To see such a powerful man as Americus groaning in pain threatens to break me. How long can he possibly last against this horrific torture? Even if he never breaks, they’ll eventually just install the Evo and get what they want anyway.

I summon all my rage and strength into one jerk of my uninjured arm. It tears free. My other arm pulls in