Page 27 of The Gift of Patience
He sniffed and looked away.
“All I’m asking you to do is agree to signal them that you are still alive. That does not require snitching.” Ashley set his basket down on the dusty desk and pulled out one of the golden buns. He waved it close enough to Devil’s face for him to appreciate and salivate before offering one to Baines.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Baines took the warm bun and took a bite, savouring it loudly.
“Captain?” Ashley offered Fielding one and they all tortured the by now starving Devil.
Ashley finished his roll, then made a great show of licking his fingers. “I don’t know, Captain. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, then it will draw all of his gang into our laps. Then we would have all of them.”
Devil narrowed his eyes a little, but it was the only outward sign he made. He had likely not considered that fact.
“Actually, that might be a better idea. Perhaps we should run it by the colonel.”
“Don’t. I’ll do it,” Devil growled.
“Now that I think about it, why would we not want to capture the whole gang? Surely one of them will tell us who they’re working for.”
“That younger one would be easy to crack. He didn’t even have a beard yet,” Fielding pointed out.
“I said I’ll signal for you.”
“I think you’re going to have to do one better than that,” Ashley said. “I want to know what the signals mean.”
The man looked exhausted. He wanted to refuse, but he must know that the game was up. He would never have freedom unless he escaped, and he would never be left alone to try.
“One flash means nothing new.”
Ashley nodded.
“Two means the game is spotted.”
“Go on,” Ashley encouraged with a roll of his hand.
“Three means it’s time to move in for the kill.”
“Now was that so hard?” Ashley asked, then plucked a roll from the basket and tossed it to him.
He caught it with his mouth and bound hands, then devoured it within seconds. He reminded Ashley of a wild animal that had been starved.
“There is more where that came from when you oblige us with more information,” Baines taunted.
“What time do you normally signal?” Fielding asked.
“A drink,” Devil demanded.
“It just so happens I have some home-brewed ale.” Ashley pulled the cork from the jug and wafted it where Devil would be tempted.
“Eight in the evening,” he answered practically chasing the bottle with his hanging tongue.
Ashley held the bottle to his mouth and let Devil drink a good, long swig. He swallowed and hung his head back with relief.
Ashley set the bottle down just out of reach. “The rest is yours when you tell me what you’re waiting to signal for.”
Now that Devil had had the worst of his hunger pains relieved, he had a little more resistance.
Ashley could see him firm his resolve. Curse it all. It was a fifty-fifty shot whether people gave in to hunger and ran their mouths like a river, or had enough to keep going and the game of torture had to begin all over again.
“Do you receive signals as well or do you get messages elsewhere?” he asked, hoping he wouldn’t stop giving information.
