Building a Business Empire with my Technological System

Chapter 263: Finally

David Natividad stood in the dimly lit room, watching as his men strapped Stacy Mitchell to the interrogation chair.

"Ready for your turn?" David asked, his tone devoid of any emotion. "Again?"

Mitchell's voice was steady, but there was a tremor in her words. "Is Harris dead?"

David leaned in, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Yes, he is. And you'll be next if you don't start talking."

Mitchell sighed, a heavy, resigned sound. "Even if I answered your questions, you'd kill me anyway. That's how this works, isn't it?"

David's smile faded, replaced by a stern, calculating look. "That depends on you, Mitchell. Start talking, and maybe I'll consider your options."

She shook her head, a small, bitter laugh escaping her. "Save it, David. I know how this ends."

"Look, you don't have to end up like Harris. Compared to him, you seem more reasonable."

Mitchell stared back at David, her eyes filled with defiance. "Reasonable? Torture isn't reasonable. You won't get anything from me."

David's patience was wearing thin. He signaled to his men, who placed the cloth over Mitchell's face and prepared the jug of water.

"Last chance, Mitchell," David said, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what I need to know."

Mitchell took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Do your worst."

The first splash of water hit the cloth, and Mitchell's body convulsed violently as the sensation of drowning took hold. David watched impassively, his eyes fixed on her, waiting for any sign of breaking.

Minutes dragged by as the waterboarding continued. Mitchell's struggles became more desperate, her gasps for air more frantic.

He wanted it to stop but it seemed that there was no breaking the CIA agents. Mitchell would end up like Harris; they were not going to talk in the end. He saw no need to stop and kept the man from pouring the water.

As Mitchell's body continued to thrash under the relentless flow of water, David's frustration grew. No, he can't have the two CIA agents die on him without giving him anything. So he signaled for the waterboarding to stop. Mitchell was left gasping, her body shaking with the effort to breathe.

David leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous. "You're tougher than I thought, Mitchell. But make no mistake, I will get what I need from you. If waterboarding isn't enough to make you talk then I hope this one will."

He beckoned one of his men to come forward.

"Yes sir?"

"I want you to prepare the next method," David ordered coldly. "Set up the Chinese water torture."

His men moved quickly, removing the waterboarding setup and replacing it with a simple yet insidious device. They strapped Mitchell to a chair and positioned a small, steady drip of water directly over her forehead. The setup was minimal, but David knew its power to break a person mentally rather than physically.

David leaned in close to Mitchell, his tone almost conversational. "This is Chinese water torture. It might seem trivial at first, just a drop of water every few seconds. But it's not about pain. It's about breaking you down, mentally. Each drop will feel like a hammer strike, and it won't stop until you talk."

"But I won't force you now," David said. "I'll be back in a few days. Think it over."

David turned to his men, signaling them to start the drip. The first drop of water landed on Mitchell's forehead, and she flinched slightly. David watched her for a moment before leaving the room, the door closing with a heavy thud behind him.

As the minutes passed, each drop of water began to take its toll on Mitchell. The steady, rhythmic dripping seemed harmless at first, but soon, the unrelenting pattern became maddening. She tried to focus, to block out the sensation, but it was impossible. Each drop felt like a hammer striking her forehead, and the mental strain grew with each passing second.

David watched from a monitor in another room, his eyes fixed on the screen. He knew the torture was working. The psychological impact of Chinese water torture was often more devastating than physical pain. It broke down the mind and made the victim feel helpless and out of control.

Hours went by, and Mitchell's resolve began to weaken. Her body was exhausted, her mind frayed. She knew she had to stay strong, but the constant dripping was eroding her mental defenses.

And then it went on for two days. Mitchell hadn't had any sleep or food. The endless dripping of water was breaking her down, bit by bit. She was exhausted, her mind barely able to function. Every drop felt like torture, and her spirit was weakening.

David re-entered the room with a cold expression. He looked at Mitchell, who was now a shell of her former self. Her eyes were red, her face pale, and she seemed to barely register his presence.

"Ready to talk now, Mitchell?" David asked.

"End this…please just end this…" Mitchell said weakly.

"You know how to end this, Mitchell. Just tell me what I need to know."

"I will tell you…just make this stop."

David smiled for the first time. Finally, he broke into one of the CIA agent's minds.

David leaned in closer, his smile widening. "Good. Start talking."

Mitchell took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. "We were sent to investigate Michael Reyes' technology. It's too advanced, too quickly. Our orders were to find out where it's coming from and who's behind it."

David nodded, his eyes narrowing. "And what did you find out?"

Mitchell hesitated, struggling to keep her focus. "We suspect there's a powerful entity backing him. Someone supplying the tech. But we couldn't identify who. We needed more time."

David's smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "You think there's someone else pulling the strings?"

Mitchell nodded weakly. "Yes. Reyes couldn't have developed all of this on his own. There's a bigger player involved."

David stood up straight, considering her words. "Alright, Mitchell. You've been very helpful. But don't think this means you're off the hook."

Mitchell's eyes widened with fear. "But I told you everything I know..."

David's expression hardened. "We'll see about that. For now, you'll be given food and rest. But if I find out you're holding back, we'll be right back here."

He turned to his men. "Take her to a holding cell. Make sure she gets some food and rest, but keep a close watch."

As Mitchell was led away, David smiled again. Now, he has something to report to his boss.