Chapter 2

Diane’s fears about being captured by the enemy were realized despite her efforts to avoid this sort of scenario above all else.

She knew she was on the floor of dirty truck with a hood over her head and her wrists and ankles bound tightly by what she suspected were the same plastic ties that we used to bind our prisoners. All she could think was the irony of the enemy using our own supplies to fuck us up on the battlefield. Her mind was occupied with the realization that the very troops she was supposed to be training had participated in the ambush and they were probably back in the barracks now laughing at the stupidity of the westerners with their strange thoughts and odd beliefs that included a sense of being superior and right about things that they knew nothing about.

The truck came to a shuddering stop and she was uncertain if it was still dark or if the sun had come up during the journey. Her estimate was that they had come about one hundred kilometers from the point of capture judging from the speed of the truck and the length of time they had bounced on the bad road. As far as she could judge they hadn’t crossed over any rivers or bridges and she knew they had gone in a straight line but was uncertain in which direction they had traveled. She guessed it was in the direction of the Iranian border and if so then they must be very close to it if that was correct.

She was on top of another patrol member trussed up the same as her and she was certain the other two were close by.

Their captors were suddenly all around them and they were shouting at them in their foreign lingo that sounded like they were mad most of the time they were talking even when they were just exchanging pleasantries in a chance meeting. The captor that had her under his control held his hand on her neck noose and halted her by choking her to stop. The bastard was groping her bottom at the same time and she wondered if it was daylight because she was certain the general rule was only if ordered to do so.

That meant her personal captor was a pervert and she put that in her memory to see if she might get some leverage from it later on.

Of course, there was always the chance that they would just take them to a secluded place and videotape the removal of their heads for the good of the cause. That possibility brought to a screeching halt all her blindfolded speculation about her harsh treatment ahead. Any torture was far preferable to the ultimate separation of one’s head from one’s body.

She heard the captors chattering about their next step and she sensed they were as undecided as she was about which direction they would likely take.

Before they removed her hood and took off her bindings, she felt them fit a metal chain to one leg and attach it to a metal rod in the center of the room. When they took off her hood, she saw the metal rod was similar to a dance pole in the girlie bars back home and she only knew that because she used on in a dance routine for gymnastics that gave her great upper body strength that most American females lack due to their soft way of life.

One of the captors gave her a wrap for her head and she figured they were probably offended by her beautiful face and her lush blond hair that was totally natural and not from a bottle like several of her female friends. She saw Private Thomas and Corporal Simpson on the floor next to her and the third male on the patrol whose name she did not know because he was only recently arrived and was pretty well closed mouthed was unconscious and obviously dumped on the floor without any effort to find out what was wrong with him.

Their captors had already collected their dog tags and had written their names on a chalk board on the wall. She saw the fourth member was Private Johnson and he had a mark next to his name that she didn’t understand.

As she expected she was the center of attention due to her gender and, most likely, her uncovered head and hair. She could tell it didn’t matter if she was a covert assassin or a rocket scientist, she would be classified as a female and placed in a separate category below that of the male prisoners.

One by one, they were unchained and taken into a separate room for a complete search and physical check by a male and a female wearing the white uniforms of medical personnel. She had no doubt that she would be last and was not disappointed. Fortunately, Private Johnson recovered before it was his turn and he looked slightly more bewildered than the rest of them. It seemed to Diane that there was a good chance he had suffered a concussion during the capture which was all a blur to her and had taken her by complete surprise.

When her turn came, she walked into the room and was told to strip off all of her clothes. She stripped down to her panties and the female indicated with her finger that she was to lose them as well.

Diane prayed that she would not blush when she took off her undies and she heard the female saying something to the other male and she was certain it had something to do with the fact that the carpet matched the drapes when it came to pubic hair coloration.