Free Bad Soldier: Danny Black Thriller 4 by Chris Ryan Page B

chairs. A set of headphones lay on the table, with a long lead plugged into an audio jack on the floor.
    Penfold pulled back the hood of his raincoat and unzipped it. For the first time, Danny got a proper look at him. He was completely bald, but not old – mid-thirties, maybe. He wore a pair of round glasses and was very clean-shaven, although his skin was red and blotchy with razor burn. He reminded Danny of a tyrannical twat of a science teacher who’d made his life hell as a kid. Danny took an instant dislike to him. Penfold laid his wet coat on the table, then walked over to two of the empty rooms and opened them up. ‘You can put them in here,’ he said. ‘This one’s the cold room – we can get it down to just below freezing. This one’s the noise room – sound-insulated, but bloody noisy inside. Soon gets them talking.’
    ‘And if it doesn’t?’ Danny asked.
    Penfold gave him a thin smile, and his eyes flickered over to the other rooms. ‘Inside, please,’ he said.
    Danny and Spud dragged their guys to the open doors and pushed them carelessly inside. Both of them stumbled and tripped. Penfold had their doors closed and locked within seconds, then beckoned Danny, Spud and Caitlin to the far door. Danny glanced back at the prisoners. They were both on their knees, their hooded heads bowed.
    ‘The doctors are on their way,’ Penfold said as they left the hexagonal room and entered what was obviously a storage area with racks of shelves along the walls. ‘They’ll check them over in the next half hour.’
    ‘What’s the point?’ Spud growled.
    Penfold looked at him over his shoulder, obviously rather surprised at the question. ‘To establish,’ he said, ‘how much interrogation they can take. I was told there would be four of you.’
    ‘Change of plan,’ Danny said.
    Penfold inclined his head. ‘Er, please don’t touch anything,’ he said. Spud had wandered over to one of the racks and was examining something closely. He turned round, holding it up. Danny’s eyes widened. It looked like some kind of sex toy.
    ‘Seriously?’ Spud said. ‘I know it must get lonely here, but—’
    ‘It’s not for recreational use,’ Penfold said. His lips had gone rather thin, like a disapproving teacher. ‘It’s an interrogation tool . . .’
    But Spud had already put the object back on the shelf and was now reading some sticky labels that had been attached to the shelves. ‘Rectal feeding . . . rectal rehydration . . .’ He turned back to look at Penfold with an expression of great distaste. ‘What’s wrong with just hitting the fuckers?’
    ‘Different subjects react in different ways,’ Penfold said prissily. ‘It’s important that we have a wide range of techniques available to us.’
    ‘Including shoving dildos up their arses? Whatever floats your boat, mucker.’
    ‘What are you?’ Penfold asked. ‘The terrorist’s friend?’
    A sudden, heavy silence. All three members of the unit gave Penfold a contemptuous stare. Spud started to pace towards him.
    ‘Leave it, Spud,’ Danny said quietly. Spud stopped and took a deep breath, clearly calming himself down.
    The terrorist’s friend. If only Penfold knew the truth. But Danny thought he understood why his mate was having a go. Spud had seen the inside of one torture facility too many over the course of his career. It was hardly surprising that he had opinions about what was acceptable and what wasn’t.
    ‘You’ll be wanting something to eat,’ Penfold said abruptly as he led them out of the storage room and into a kitchen area. There was a sink, a fridge and a microwave. Penfold pointed at the fridge. ‘There’s food in there. Help yourselves. I’ve received instructions that you’re to be present at the interrogation. It’s not something I would usually recommend, but . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘I’ll return when we’re ready for you.’
    Penfold nodded at them, wiped a few beads of sweat from his