He was three and he was fine, he wouldn't even be thinking about it except it's exactly what tubocurarine doesn't feel like. It's too cold and nobody's yelling, so it stands to reason he's not drowning.
The summer replays through his head over and over and it's nearly enough to override the need to struggle. It keeps his heart rate down; it keeps him calm. He can ride it out.
He'd be dealing better if the voice over narrative explaining that didn't sound like Megan.
Or maybe he wouldn't.
Lancer left, Colby's not sure why. He had to know most interrogation techniques weren't going to work on a guy trained to use them, so it's probably not about making Colby sweat.
Maybe he had to make a call. Have a cup of coffee. Read the paper. So it's just Colby and Dwayne and two guys with automatics.
"Cozy," says David's voice. Megan must have gotten tired of talking.
"Remember that medic? The Russian? He stitched your arm up outside Kandahar."
Colby thought Carter finally quit trying to talk to him ten minutes ago but there's something to be said for the calming properties of knowing lungs still work so he gives in, replies.
"Anatoli. I remember." They're right - it feels like drowning. At least it feels like something.
Something behind him creaks and Carter sounds like he's walking closer. "Markham asked him why he was even still there. And he said if he ever had to choose between betraying his friend or betraying his country … he said he hoped he'd have the guts to betray his country."
"He was quoting some other guy, Dwayne. "
"I know that. But you and me, we said it. Said our country betrayed us first. You remember?"
"We went over there, we were a fucking punch line. Everyone was bitching. No one meant it."
"I did, Granger. I would've never done this to you. Never. And you turn around and sell me out for something you don't even believe in. Uncle Sam never pulled you out of the fire."
"I believe-"
"You believe in jack. You talk the talk and you wear the suit but I saw your eyes, man. I saw you."
"Yeah, well, you never had to choose between your friends and your country. You did it for the money."
A hand drops on his shoulder and pulls away sharply as the door swings open. Colby turns his head enough to see Lancer standing in the open hatchway.
"Do they know my name?"
When he was twenty-four, Colby sat unmoving behind a crumbling wall for the thirteen hours it took for darkness to fall. It was fifty-fifty the sniper had a night scope, but still better odds than making a daylight run.
Stillness is a friend; he keeps telling himself that until the words begin to blur and then Larry's voice takes over the mantra for a while. It turns into an aside on celestial bodies that Colby would find kind of fascinating if he wasn't pretty sure he was hallucinating.
He lets his head drop down on his chest and drags another breathe inside. Tells himself he isn't drowning and he won't go insane if he can't stand up and walk around.
That it's just a compound of chemicals provoking a biological and neurological response. That there's no chalk scratching its way down a board behind him and Charlie hasn't begun to calculate a probability of survival.
Dwayne crouches in front of his chair; Colby hadn't heard him move. The scars on his hands are pale and rough and, for once, Colby doesn't think Dwayne's showing them deliberately.
Something nudges his knee and it's a sledgehammer he isn't braced for, he can't quite swallow down the groan.
Dwayne flinches away. "Sorry."
"'Sorry'?" He raises his head. "Pretty sure that's not in the torture manual."
Dwayne meets his gaze square. "You'd know. That's you, it isn't me."
"But you're sitting right there."
A kind of concern gives way to sudden defensiveness but Dwayne's always been that way. He's the best bad guy Colby knows - or maybe the worst good guy. "What do you want from me, huh? You lied to me. And you tried to make him think I was a liar too."
"Dwayne, you're committing treason. That's the biggest lie there is, man."
"I didn't sell you out."
"You sold your country out. You sold yourself out, it's nothing to do with me." He won't make Dwayne see it, there's this chasm where understanding should be. He hasn't figured out why he keeps trying anyway.
"I made life a little more interesting for some suits in Washington who're more dirty than I'll ever be. That's who you're working for, and you know it."
Breath comes harder this time but Dwayne waits patiently until he's gasped the last in and managed, "He'll kill you."
"He'll probably try. I gotta look pretty stupid to him, huh? Trusting you? Feels pretty stupid."
Colby guesses it was and, okay, it's the mind-altering drugs talking but he just wants Dwayne gone. Someplace where it doesn't matter if you sell your country down river for your kid's education and a hooker. "Get out of here. Jump ship, it's not that far to shore. Disappear."
"Think that'd make us even?"
Colby drops his gaze but Dwayne leans closer.
"Nothing's gonna make us even and that just eats you up, right? Wouldn't matter if I was some saint, you'd be just the same. Colby Granger: can't owe nothing to no one.
You know what? I'd save your ass right now if I could, because I can't think of a better way to get you back."
"Then you lack imagination, Mister Carter." Big guy but damn Lancer moves quietly. Colby jerks back, manages to keep the yell inside his head where it belongs this time as a friendly hand comes down on his shoulder. Doesn't come down hard. Doesn't have to.
Lancer smiles without malice. "Are you thinking of trying to help him? Because I should warn you-"
"No." Dwayne's voice is hard "Hear me, Granger? You're on your own."
Lancer hooks his hands behind his head and lets out a long – luxurious, Colby thinks - huff of breath. "Do they know my name?"
"Not pulling you outta the fire this time," Dwayne mutters. But Don says he's lying and Don, he's had a lot of practice telling. So Colby believes him.
"If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country."
- E M Forster