Page 43 of Stolen Faith

“Combat search and rescue,” Rowan amended. “When you know there’s a rescue team coming, the last thing you do is move locations. If you’re lost in the woods or the desert, you don’t go wandering around, looking for help. As long as you’re sure someone reported you missing, the smartest course of action is to stay in place.”

“What you’re saying is that what we’ve done up until now…they were the smart moves?” Brennon asked, clearly leading him.

Rowan shot him a grateful look. “Minus my fuck-up at the beginning, yes. The best option would have been to not get taken. Based on the information we had, and the logical course of action, our best chance at rescue has been to comply and wait.”

Izabel’s fear melted to a considering expression. “It was one thing for them to hate my parents for their open poly marriage, but they clearly know about the Trinity Masters. And the names…that was the list of people from our engagement party.”

“I can’t believe we’ve been taken by nutjob rednecks who somehow know about the Trinity Masters and think we’re all sinners?” Brennon shook his head in exaggerated disbelief, and Izabel laughed.

“Comply and wait doesn’t apply when you’ve been captured,” Rowan went on, “but given that we were relatively uninjured until now, escape was the higher-risk option.”

Izabel stopped laughing, and Brennon was staring at him.

Shit. He’d fucked that up. He thought since everyone seemed calm, it was okay to keep explaining.

“No, don’t stop now,” Brennon said in exasperation. “Tell us why we need to escape.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Now that it’s clear our lives are at risk if we stay in place, an escape attempt, which will mean risking our lives, doesn’t actually change the threat level.”

“His clinical way of talking about our death is oddly reassuring,” Brennon said to Izabel.

“Weirdly, it is. And I would…would really like to get out of here before they torture any more information out of me.” Izabel let out a bitter laugh. “Especially since I broke.” Her lips trembled.

“Iza, you have nothing to feel—”

“Everyone breaks under torture.” Rowan interrupted Brennon’s soft reassurances. “It’s one of the first things they teach you in R2I.”

Izabel was looking at him. “What’s R2I?”

“Resistance to interrogation. You can resist interrogation, but you can’t resist torture. You can’t stop yourself from giving in to torture. You’re programmed to stay alive. At a certain point, you will say anything to make the pain stop or to keep breathing.”

Brennon made a noise that had Rowan thinking he’d again fucked up, but Izabel nodded.

“You’re saying torture and interrogation are different?”

“Torture can be used in interrogation, but honestly, it’s not that effective.”

“I said yes.” Izabel dropped her gaze. “I said yes to some of the names.”

After she’d agreed to answer, they had forced her head under one more time. At first, she’d said, “I don’t know” to every name. Then they put her on her knees, holding her so her face was only an inch away from the water. She started saying yes to some of the names.

“I put a target on them,” she whispered. “Those people will get kidnapped too, kidnapped and tortured…”

Izabel looked ready to cry.

“No, you didn’t.” Brennon was leaning back against the wall, eyes half closed.

“We’ll escape and alert possible targets,” Rowan told her.

“No need.” Brennon sat up. There was blood on the cuff of his shirt—clearly, he’d been working the ropes. “I was listening, and everyone you said yes to was a senator, CEO of something or other, or a military official. None of them are going to be easy to kidnap.”

Rowan looked over, assessing Brennon again. It was cool thinking under pressure for him to track not only which names she’d replied to in the affirmative but who they were.

Izabel seemed to gather herself. “I tried to say yes to big-name people.”

“One of the main strategies for resistance to interrogation is to give false but not easily identifiably wrong information,” Rowan explained. “Initially you’re supposed to answer with name and rank. You give that information for as long as you can. Hopefully long enough so that when you break and start talking, whatever you say is now out-of-date, or you’re able to skew it enough that it’s neutralized.”

Brennon and Izabel were both looking at him.

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