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He writhed against the restraints, fighting Dmitri's iron grip on his head, his escaping breath bubbling to the surface of the water-filled basin.
I gestured to Dmitri and he yanked the prisoner's head up, water spilling and sloshing with the motion.
The prisoner gasped, taking in gulps of air as the coughs he hacked rattled his entire body. Water streamed from his mouth and nose, his chest heaving with the desperate need for oxygen.
I waited. Patient even as the ice in me manifested, turning the water in the basin cold enough to steam.
I was sure the ice-cold water had shredded his lungs with every breath.
The cell was dark and dank, water dripping somewhere in the darkness beyond the single light that illuminated our work. The smell of mildew and fear hung thick in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood from earlier interrogation attempts.
This was the third session. The third time I'd watched this man nearly drown and still give us nothing.
