Operation Red Dawn and the Siege of Europe

Interrogator

During World War II, Ft. McCoy had been used as a Germany POW camp, in addition to a basic training facility. Now history was repeating itself, and the old National Guard base was reactivated to be an active duty military training facility alongside the POW camp, just as it had been in the 1940s. Ft. McCoy was located in the middle of Wisconsin, in a relatively low-populated area of the state, which made it ideal for a POW camp. The base was also training 12,000 new army recruits at any given time, graduating 1,000 new soldiers a week from their twelve-week basic combat training course.

Ft. McCoy did not house all of America’s POWs, but it did house the prisoners identified as having some sort of intelligence value. Prisoners not being deemed as having intelligence value had been turned over to other POW camps that worked with DHS to provide tens of thousands of prisoners to be used on various work gangs and projects all across the US. The prisoners farmed their own food and carried out a variety of other physical labor services as both a means of keeping them occupied while also helping to rebuild the various areas inside America that had been damaged or destroyed in the war.

Chief Warrant Officer 4 (CW4) Josh Schafer was the senior military interrogator at Ft. McCoy. He was also the XO for an interrogation detachment from the 201^st Battlefield Surveillance Brigade, 109^th Military Intelligence Battalion. They had thirty-six military interrogators, nine DoD civilian interrogators, and forty-five contract interrogators to handle the 25,000 Islamic Republic, Russian and Chinese POWs currently being held at Ft. McCoy.

CW4 Schafer had just received a new high-value prisoner from Alaska, a Russian Colonel who had been an armored brigade commander before he was captured by US Special Forces. The men that brought him in kept laughing about how he had been captured while he was relieving himself in the woods, not far from his Command vehicle. The SF unit in question had been shadowing the brigade headquarters, and was in the process of preparing to ambush it when they spotted the commander walking in the woods alone. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, they grabbed him and then proceeded to ambush the headquarters unit.

The Russian Colonel had quickly been transferred to a rearguard unit, who had him transferred to Ft. McCoy once he accidentally made mention of the new Russian main battle tank and how it would crush America. Now it was incumbent on CW4 Schafer, to find out as much information as he could about this mystery tank. After spending a couple of hours looking over all of the intelligence and information available on the good Colonel, Schafer felt he was ready to meet him and begin to assess his new prisoner.

Schafer had been an interrogator for sixteen years; he had a BS in psychology and an MA in International Studies. During his career so far, he had fought in the Mexican invasion, and had interrogated numerous Islamic terrorists for the war effort. He had originally been assigned to the 3^rd Infantry Division in Israel, but he had been wounded and sent back to the US to recover. Upon recovering from his shrapnel injuries, he was reassigned to the 109^th MI battalion and sent to Ft. McCoy. This was his third month at Ft. McCoy, and already he had conducted over 150 interrogations and obtained an incredible amount of intelligence, particularly about the IR military leadership structure and who was loyal to the Caliph versus their country of origin. He was adept at sifting out the radicals versus the pragmatic military leaders. This information was critical in determining who the US and IDF could work with during the occupation, and who was going to present a long-term problem for them. By assessing who could safely be trusted as team players during the occupation of the IR, the U.S. was going to have much greater chance of keeping the peace.

Now it was about finding out what the next steps the Chinese and Russians were up to. CW4 Schafer pushed his chair back away from his desk and computer, grabbed his notepad and tablet, and signaled to his analyst and interpreter that it was time for them to walk to their interrogation booth and get things prepared for the interrogation. Their prisoner was going to be brought to them in about thirty-minutes, giving them plenty of time to get things ready. As they walked out of the Interrogation Control Element (ICE)-the building the interrogators and analyst operated out of when not working with the prisoners-they made their way across the street to the interrogation building. The structure that housed the interrogation booths was connected to the actual POW camp, making easy access to move the detainees in for questioning. Inside were thirty state-of-the-art interrogation booths, which were in use nearly 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Each booth had a separate viewing room connected to it with a one-way mirror (this allowed for rule-keeping monitors to see the interrogation as it was happening). The rooms also had a number of high-tech pieces of equipment that greatly improved the interrogation process. There was a thermal camera, which helped to monitor the prisoner’s body temperature and spikes in perspiration that occur when a person is nervous or lying. In addition to the thermal imaging, there were also half a dozen mini-cameras observing the prisoner; these cameras were looking for any ticks or tells the detainee might have. With the aid of computer software, micro-expressions could be judged to catch eyelid quivering when nervous, slight movements of the lips that might indicate lying, and the dilation of pupils to indicate genuine surprise. CW4 Schafer said a little “thank you” in his head to President Stein as they walked into the room; it was due to his emphasis on improved equipment that he was able to enjoy all of the technology he had at his disposal.

As Schafer and his analyst got their equipment and room set up, their interpreter began to look over the various questions and points of discussion they were going to discuss with the prisoner. This way, he could ask questions for clarification before the interrogation started if he needed to. The thirty-minutes went by quickly, and before long, a knock could be heard at the door, letting them know their prisoner had arrived. The Colonel was wearing the traditional yellow jumpsuit that all prisoners wore; his name and rank were sewn on to the front and back of his jumpsuit, so he could be quickly identified.

Colonel Dimitri Petkovic was the 13^th Guard’s Tank Regiment Commander, part of the 4^th Guard’s Kantemirovskaya Division (one of several elite Russian armored divisions). He was a career officer who was being fast-tracked to become a division commander until his capture. As he sat down, he thought to himself, “If only I hadn’t waved off my protective detail that evening… all I wanted was a few minutes to relieve my bowels in peace. ” Images of his capture were flashing through his head, and he felt himself being thrown to the ground, gagged and tied up with zip ties. He remembered a series of explosions as they left; the Special Forces must have destroyed his headquarters unit.

Colonel Petkovic was optimistic about the possibility of being broken out of prison by his own Spetsnaz, or escaping on his own, until he was flown from a small firebase to Fairbanks and then to northern Wisconsin. So far, his treatment had been better than expected; he had been given medical attention when he needed it, and he was fed three meals a day. He had made the mistake of mentioning the new Russian tank and how it was going to destroy the Americans to a fellow prisoner, who must have told the Yankees (the Americans had placed several of their interpreters among the prison population to gather intelligence inside the camp; this had proven extremely useful). This little slip-up was probably why he had been flown to Wisconsin instead of staying in Alaska. Petkovic thought to himself, “It doesn’t matter. The Americans will ultimately lose the war; the numbers are against them no matter what new technology they create.”

The Colonel had been at Ft. McCoy for five days, nearly all of it spent in isolation. What little he had seen of the base when he was driven from the airstrip to the prison camp, did amaze him. He saw thousands of American men and women conducting physical training and other types of military training. Clearly, the Americans were trying to train a new army, but it was too late. The Russian and Chinese alliance had already trained millions of soldiers and were in the process of training millions more. He knew that as soon as his division’s objectives would have been completed, he would have been heading back to the Western front to be equipped with the new T41 battle tanks. The Chinese were also training five million soldiers, specifically to assist the Russians in Europe. He felt certain of the inevitability of the victory on his side.

As Petkovic walked in to the interrogation room, he was not afraid. Of course, he was determined to do his best to resist; he had received interrogation resistance training, and he had been told that the Americans would not use torture, so that relieved most of the anxiety he might have felt. As the Colonel oriented himself to this new room, he saw a man in his late thirties standing before him.

“Hello, Colonel Petkovic. You can call me Mr. Smith.”

Petkovic was sure that this name was an alias, but that didn’t matter. There was an interpreter in the room with him, and a third person, a woman who sat in the back corner at a desk with a laptop. He assumed the woman was there to take notes for the interrogator, who looked all business. The interrogator shook his hand, and offered him some coffee or a bottle of water. Petkovic accepted both and thanked “Mr. Smith.” There was no reason to be rude.

Schafer knew that they were going to be talking for several hours, and one trick of the trade that he had learned was to humanize the detainee and his relationship with him. This would make it easier to develop rapport, and enable him to obtain the information he was looking for. He had the prisoner sit down, and then began to attach several wires to his hand, finger and chest.

“Colonel Petkovic, I am going to attach several sensors to your body; these will help us determine if you are lying or telling us the truth.”

“This is a lie detector?” asked Petkovic curiously as he looked at the instruments.

“Yes and no. We use the data to determine if you are telling the truth or hiding something. If you are less than truthful, I will know.” Schafer was very matter-of-fact.

“All I am obligated to provide you with is my name, rank and service number,” the Colonel said sarcastically.

Josh smiled before responding, “Technically, that is true. However, there are a lot of incentives I can provide to you that would make your stay here at the camp a lot nicer and more enjoyable, if you are willing to cooperate.”

Petkovic sighed deeply before he replied, “What could you possibly offer me that would make me want to betray my country?”

“If you are willing to talk openly with me, then I can have you moved to a single person room, complete with TV rights and room service. You can pick what you would like to eat, and each meal will be delivered to your room, or you may eat in the cafeteria with the other prisoners who have chosen to cooperate.”

“Those prisoners will never be allowed to return back to Russia; they would be shot for treason,” said Petkovic in a serious manner. The tone of his voice implied that he knew from personal experience what happens to people that the State determines to be traitors.

CW4 Schafer had heard this before, and had a response ready. “You should know that when the war is over, those who want to stay in the US will be allowed to do so. Those who wish to return back to their country will be swapped for our prisoners.”

Having presented the situation, Josh switched gears. He sat down and began to look through his questioning guide to start the interrogation. “Tell me about the T41 tank. What makes it so special?” Schafer actually had no idea if the tank was going to be called a T41; he was guessing at the name and figured this is most likely what it would be called.

“Hmm, so they know what the tank is going to be called. I wonder what else they know about it? ” thought the Colonel.

“I have nothing to say,” replied Petkovic with a look of determination.

Immediately, Schafer could see in Petkovic’s eyes that he was going to be a problem; he was not going to talk easily. He thought to himself, “That’s fine. I still have my ways of making you talk. ”

With a mischievous grin developing, Schafer answered, “That’s fine.”

Signaling for the guards to return, he directed them to hold Petkovic in his chair so he could not move. Then he lifted a syringe from a small black case that he had in the cargo pocket of his military trousers.

Petkovic’s eyes went wide with fear and surprise.

“I had hoped we could have a normal conversation, two military professionals discussing a host of topics. However, if you want to be obstinate, then we have our ways of making you talk. I am going to inject you with something that is going to make every nerve in your body feel as if it is on fire. It is going to be excruciatingly painful. Fortunately, the pain can be immediately turned off if I inject you with a counteracting drug. However, I will only do so if you are willing to answer my questions truthfully.” Schafer spoke in a cold detached voice. He had the look of someone who had done this many, many times before.

Prior to the outbreak of World War III, the President had authorized a secret military interrogation manual and a program that incorporated the use of pharmaceutical interrogations, using drugs to facilitate the cooperation of a detainee. There were two main drugs they used. The first, the “fire drug,” would indeed cause the nerves in the detainee’s body to feel as though they were burning in scorching flames. The second, the “lucidity drug,” was very similar to a medication often given to patients before surgery to relax them, Ativan. It quickly loosened the mind’s ability to resist. After some interrogation trials on US Special Forces and Navy Seals, the military had found that if you give the fire drug first, the lucidity drug worked even better (because the individual’s mind would have been exhausted from dealing with the fire drug). Part of the qualification process of being able to administer this type of interrogation required the interrogator to have gone through the process themselves. This ensured that the interrogator knew the type of pain the prisoner was being subjected to.

Petkovic was given the first drug, and within seconds, it felt like his entire body was burning from the inside. He started to scream, and tried to wrestle himself free from the guards who held him firmly in his chair. However, their grip was firm, and they were unmoved by his cries for help… they had clearly seen this done a number of times before. After nearly ten minutes of not answering the interrogator’s questions, the Colonel finally gave in. “I will cooperate, Mr. Smith!” he cried. “Just take the pain away!” he pleaded.

Schafer gave him the counteractive drug, and then quickly injected him with the lucidity drug. Within seconds, he could see in Petkovic’s eyes that he was feeling relief and was ready to talk. Schafer calmly sat back down at the table. “So, tell me about the T41. What type of gun does it have?”

With the lucidity drug in his system, Petkovic responded almost immediately as if his sub-conscious had been laid bare. “It uses a pulse beam laser.”

“How many shots can it fire a minute?” asked Josh, wanting to establish a rhythym.

“Two.”

“How long until it needs to be recharged?” queried Josh.

“It can fire a total of fifteen shots before it needs to recharge.”

“And how long does it take to recharge?” Schafer continued.

“It takes three minutes to recharge enough energy to fire a single shot; the laser can fire a shot every thirty seconds. It can fire through its charged battery in six minutes, but then it takes forty-five minutes to return back to full charge.”

“What are the dimensions of the T41?” Schafer asked, continuing to roll through the questions on his list.

Petkovic continued to answer question after question for nearly four hours before Schafer ended the interrogation. Josh had obtained all the information he needed on the T41, and now it was time to write up the Intelligence Information Report (IIR) and get this information out to the greater intelligence community so they could decide what further information they would like from Petkovic.