Free Battle Road by Frank Gerry

water boarding before commencing with beating the prisoner. Not severe. Just enough to soften them up. Give them a whiff of things to come,” he said, checking to make sure the officers were all listening. “Your interrogation methods will differ depending on whether the prisoner is male or female.  For men, you begin by stripping them naked. During the interrogation, you threaten castration. Women, you leave fully clothed and strip them during the interrogation. Removing one article of clothing at a time. All the while giving them the impression that they'll be raped if they don't cooperate.”
    One of the female officers cut in to ask a question, “What if they won't talk even with these kinds of interrogations?” Goodman gave the younger woman a stern impatient look, “I've only explained how to start the interrogation. We have a lot ground to cover, we'll get to it. Just keep in mind, we can make anyone talk. We just have to find and exploit a prisoners weaknesses and fears. The problem is the subject can only tell us what they do know. Let's take our seats and get comfortable, shall we?” Goodman made a gesture with his right arm towards several chairs in the room that sat behind the two way mirror and the control desk containing video monitors and other digital equipment.
    After the officers settled down, Senior Agent Goodman began his lecture once again, “As I said, we can break anyone. The problem is our enemies have come up with some clever defensive strategies. As you know, the rebels have organized themselves into small guerrilla   fighting units or cells. These cells contain no more than six or seven members. Usually each member only knows one or two other cell members. Then, only one or two members know the identity of their cell commander. And only the cell commander knows the information on their upper command officers.” The junior officers glanced back and forth between Goodman and the activities in the interrogation room.
    The Senior Detective stopped beating the prisoner, handed the baton over to one of the associate Detectives, and began his 'bad cop' routine as he's done thousands of times before. Grabbing the prisoners hair and pulling his head back, the Senior Detective leaned over and spoke menacingly into his ear, “OK, so you know I'm not fuck'in around here. You're going to tell me what I want to know. No fucking bullshit either. Got that motherfucker!”
    The prisoner winced with his head pulled back but refused to speak. The female Detective slammed her fist into the prisoners stomach. She played the second 'bad cop' in the DHS interrogation tactics of 'bad cop – bad cop'. She stepped back as the other junior Detective leaned forward to yell at the prisoner, spraying spit across his face, “I didn't hear you motherfucker!”
    The prisoner shook his head up and down wearily, “yes, yes.” His face betraying his agony and terror. “What's your name?” the Senior Detective yelled as he once again pulled the helpless man's head back. A few seconds later the man was able to speak coherently, “I have rights. I'm an American citizen. You can't do this to me.”
    All three Detectives stepped back a couple of feet while mocking the prisoner with laughter. They each paced in a circle around the prisoner while continuing their taunts. The Senior Detective managed to blurt out between his laughter,  “What a dumb fucking idiot you are.”  The tattooed woman stepped up and landed another punch to the prisoners stomach. Shaking her hand after wards, demonstrating how much she enjoyed punching the young man.
    Allowing the prisoner to recover somewhat from the last body blow, the male Detective leaned over and shouted in his ear, “Should I call a lawyer for you. Would you like that?” The young man shook his head up and down, naively thinking for a moment there was a possibility of being given due legal process. That was, until all three detectives let out a another roar of