Captured

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I woke soaking wet. A quick inspection of my surroundings revealed I was in a bamboo cage warped with barbwire and partly submerged in water. I had been stripped of my uniform and kit,now down to my combat shirt,pants and boots. My head was hurting from the concussion produced by the flash bang and my vision was slightly blurred from the water having gotten in my eyes.

"The fuck?",I whispered to myself.

"John?",a voice called.

"Hudson?",I returned,"Hudson is that you?"

"Yeah it's me John",Hudson returned.

"Where the hell are we?",I asked him.

"No idea",Hudson told me.

"Everyone sound off",I said.

"Here",Issac replied.

"Here",Frank said.

"Wait",I said,"where the hell are Jackson and Wyatt?"

"They took them about ten minutes ago",Hudson said,"for a while I could hear Wyatt yelling at them and then nothing,that's when Jackson started crying."

I listened closely and could hear Jack sobbing. It wasn't a pained cry,no,it was much more of a "broken" cry.

"What are they doing?",I asked concerned.

"Torture",Hudson replied,"I heard someone yelling at Wyatt saying "no talk play!"

I didn't like what Hudson was telling me,"no talk,play." I remember Dad telling me about how when he was captured in Vietnam,they forced him to play Russian Roulette,a game where you take a Colt Python,has to be a Python,and load two chambers,you spin the cylinder and then put the gun to your head,and pray to God the chamber isn't live. There was a near hundred percent chance that someone from Raven wasn't going home from this one. We needed a way out of this mess,as I pondered one over,I began to hear boot steps echoing in the corridor.

"Fuck",Hudson said sounding genuinely scared,which was extremely rare for him,"they're coming back!"

The two men who showed up had tan skin,they were Vietnamese,Northern by my guess. They opened the cage and dragged me out before hauling me down the hall,they set me in a chair in front of Jackson,who had tears streaming down his face,the look in his eyes told me he'd given up.

"I can't do this anymore sir",Jackson said,"I just wanna end it all."

"No don't say that Marine",I said,"your a Raven,Raven's don't die!"

"BAC,BAC,BAC!",The VC bookie shouted slamming a meat cleaver down on the table.

He picked up the snub nose Colt Python from the table and let six live shells fall from it  before picking one up,loading the gun and spinning the chamber. He slammed it down on the table and spun it,the barrel stopping at level with Jack's chest.

"You play GI!",the VC man said.

"Go to hell",Jack replied.

A tall,muscular man in a Russian uniform grabbed Jackson by his hair and pulled him back so he could look him in the eye.

"Play American trash!",he shouted in Russian and throwing Jack's head forward.

"You don't scare me",Jackson spat,"fucking commie piece of shit!"

The Russian man,red in the face,took Jack's own B32R from his holster and grabbed him by the back of his neck,lifting him up out of the chair and putting a burst into each of his knees. Jackson screamed from the pain as I tried to get from the chair and help my fellow Marine,but I was met with a cleaver pressed to my throat and hands on my shoulders.

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