Not by blood, but by fire and water

Chapter 7

"Alex, Levi, check their restraints," Sinclair ordered, eyeing Mac suspiciously. "What have you been up to Mr. Macgyver? I was warned that you and your partner have been known to escape otherwise impossible situations in the past. Apparently I need to take further precautions to insure that you both stay right where you are." The arms dealer turned to speak with Alex, who nodded and left the room. Sinclair turned back to face his prisoners again.

"I'm curious, have you always been a sadistic prick?" Jack taunted. Sinclair paused at the torture table to pick up the knife on his way over to Jack. Twisting his upper half, he delivered a hard backhand to the side of the agents face. "I'm gonna take that as a yes," Jack said flexing his jaw.

Sinclair twisted the knife in his grasp, the blood had begun to dry at the edges, he lowered the flat side of the blade to rest on Jacks thigh then pulled sharply, wiping most of the blood off onto the black denim. Flipping the blade over to the other side Sinclair twisted the knife at the last moment easily slicing through the sturdy fabric and into the flesh beneath it. Jack grimaced, but quickly schooled his features.

"I'm quite impressed with you Mr. Dalton, my previous captives were begging me to stop by this point. Perhaps we have not found the right tool for you yet." Sinclair said with a sinister smirk. Turning his back on Jack, he walked back to the table.

The heavy door creaked open again signaling the return of Alex. He carried some tools and chain with him. He went right to work drilling two holes in the floor behind Mac and Jack. He threaded the chain over the middle support bar of the chair underneath Mac, then brought both ends of the chain to the hole he drilled, placing a concrete anchor through the ends of chain and hammering the anchor in. Moving behind Jack he began to replicate the process.

'Dammit! When are we going to catch a break?' Mac thought to himself. With their chairs effectively chained to the floor, they weren't going anywhere.

Training had taught him how to deal with high stress without panicking, but the young agent could not see a way out of this one and being utterly powerless to do anything had Mac on the verge of a breakdown.

He looked back to the table to see what their captor was up to, His stomach dropped at seeing what Sinclair was assembling. A picana. Looks like that break isn't going to be caught anytime soon.

Picana was a nasty device made specifically for torture by delivering painful non lethal shocks to its victims. Jack had reluctantly told him about his experience with the picana, one night after several beers. It was a typical night of sharing stories by the fire pit, decompressing after a long mission, and Jack had started to tell a story about a mission in Venezuela when he hesitated, Mac instantly curious, practically begged him to finish the story. Mac regretted pushing Jack when he saw the haunted look in his best friends eyes as he relived the painful memory.

Jack had been captured by the head of a drug cartel, Carlito Silva, who had killed his CIA partner and tortured the older agent within an inch of his life.

Mac looked towards his friend, Jack's expression unreadable. Jack must have felt Mac's eyes on him because he turned to look at him. He saw it then, the fear and pain in Jack's eyes. It broke his heart to see it. Jack tried for a small reassuring smile and said, "It's okay… I got this."

Levi walked up behind Jack with a bucket of water, lifting it up he poured the chilling contents over Jacks head. "Would it kill you to spring for a water heater? Is he always this cheap?" He tossed over his shoulder.

Sinclair wheeled the table over and picked up the insulated handle of the picana, admiring it like it was some beautiful piece of art. Alex manned the rheostat, which controls the intensity of the shocks. "I've been looking forward to this," Sinclair said with a gleam in his eyes.

This is really gonna suck Jack thought, unconsciously holding his breath as he watched brass tip of the picana get closer until it made contact with his abdomen. White hot fire shooting through his middle.

Wasting no time the arms dealer touched the device to his prisoners ribs, eliciting a pained yelp from the man.

Jack couldn't catch his breath as he was hit with another jolt. He tried desperately to hold back his cries of pain so his partner wouldn't worry so much. He was already looking at him like he was some broken puppy. 'Dammit I wish I never told him that story.'

Mac watched as Jack took a hit to his thigh causing a small groan to escape his lips.

Unhappy with the unsatisfying reactions Sinclair nodded to Alex, who turned the knob on the rheostat to the highest setting.

Mac looked on worriedly as Sinclair touched the brass end to the knife wound above Jack's hip bone. The scream that came out of his friend was gut wrenching. Fury instantly overflowing, "You son of a bitch!" he shouted at their captor.

To be continued...