Read Strike for Free Online Page B

Seven Five?” Bova said as he backed toward the kneeling prisoner. “
Please
tell me, did you know it was wrong to steal water and bring it to your unit?”
    For the first time, the prisoner showed life. He straightened up, though he was still kneeling, and said, “It was a mistake. I didn’t steal it. I thought I was bringing the normal ration.”
    “It was a mistake all right,” Bova said to the whole group with a smile, as if he expected everyone to laugh at the joke.
    For the record, nobody did.
    “
Please
tell me, were you wrong?”
    The prisoner hung his head. “Yes, I was wrong.”
    “
Please
tell me, will you ever make that same mistake again?”
    The prisoner lifted his head, showing signs of hope. “No, never.”
    “Of course you won’t,” Bova said.
    He turned away from the prisoner and faced the bulk of the group.
    “The rules of my camp are clear and simple,” he announced. “We expect you to follow them, and to work hard. Do that and you will be rewarded.”
    Bova gestured to the driver, who pulled out a large green Jerry Jug from the jeep and lugged it toward the group of prisoners.
    “You have been working hard in the sun,” Bova announced. “You deserve extra water.”
    The guard placed the jug in the sand and backed away.
    The prisoners didn’t move.
    “Well go on!” Bova said. “It’s yours.”
    Still, nobody moved.
    “
Please!
”
    That was the magic word. Like a group of hungry puppies, everyone went for the Jerry Jug. One guy lifted it and took a deep drink of water. The others clamored to be next as the first guy passed it on. They each took a deep, refreshing drink while careful not to spill a precious drop before passing it along. It was a surprisingly civilized process for people who were so desperately thirsty.
    Bova stood back, watching the scene with a satisfied smile like he was some generous benefactor. The whole event was meant to be a warning. He was making an example out of the prisoner to show how much power he had. He could give extra water, or command a brutal beating.
    “
Please
, everyone, don’t forget your friend,” Bova said.
    The last guy with the jug brought it to the kneeling prisoner and placed it gently on the ground in front of him.
    “Very good,” Bova said. “You see? When you follow the rules, you will be rewarded.”
    Allowing these poor people to get a few extra swigs of warm water didn’t exactly seem like a huge reward, but I wasn’t going to point that out. I didn’t even get a drink, which I guess was fair. I hadn’t been working.
    Bova went back to the kneeling prisoner, leaned over, and said, “There. It was all just a silly misunderstanding. I trust that there will be no more. Have a drink and rejoin your unit.”
    Bova turned and walked toward his jeep. The show was over.
    The prisoner lunged for the Jerry Jug and greedily took a deep drink.
    Bova was about to board the jeep, when he stopped suddenly. He turned and quickly strode back toward the kneeling prisoner.
    The entire group of prisoners froze in place.
    Bova walked quickly, heading directly for the prisoner. As he moved past one of the guards he grabbed the black baton-weapon from the soldier’s belt without breaking stride. He marched right up to the kneeling prisoner who still held the Jerry Jug up high, trying to get the last few drops of precious water. When he saw Bova standing over him, he froze.
    “Sorry,” Bova said with what seemed like genuine sympathy. “I didn’t say
please
.”
    Bova brought the weapon up and aimed it at the prisoner’s chest.
    Nobody made a move to stop him.
    Bova fired.
    The weapon made no sound.
    The prisoner did.
    With a pained yelp he was thrown backward. The Jerry Jug clattered to the sand and came to rest near the head of the poor guy.
    He didn’t move. He wouldn’t move again.
    The unit supervisor dropped her head in what seemed like genuine anguish.
    The rest of the prisoners remained frozen. I thought I heard a small whimper,