Doomsday Warrior 10 - American Nightmare Read Online Free

spurts from your eyes, your nose, your mouth. But maybe before you die, you will tell us what we need to know. Take him to the wheel!”
    The soldiers did as Streltsy ordered. Soon Rockson again was face-up in the middle of the circular room, strapped hands and feet to “the wheel.” The wheel was just that: a huge metal wheel with flat spokes wide enough to place a body on. Rockson’s body. Since the wheel had a twelve-foot diameter, it was possible to place Rockson’s feet at the center of the wheel, and his head at the wheel’s edge.
    When he was trussed up so that he couldn’t move an inch, Streltsy came over to him and leered down at him. “Perhaps you understand the pain you will soon endure. I ask you one more time—where is Century City?”
    Rockson gathered some spittle and ejected it straight in the Russian’s face. “Go to hell, you bastard.”
    Streltsy punched him in the face and snapped out the order to let the wheel begin turning.
    As the wheel began to turn, Rockson saw a table at the far end of the room—a card table, one of those snap-open kind. And on the table was a chessboard and pieces. The chessmen were all lined up on their original squares. No game was in progress. The Russians were zealots for chess.
    “Wait,” Rockson called out. “Streltsy, I have a proposition for you—better than seeing blood spurt out of my ears. You know,” he said as the room spun around faster and faster, “I will never reveal Century City’s location by means like this. But stop the wheel. I’ll play a chess game with you—if you win, I’ll talk!”
    For a dreadful half minute the wheel continued accelerating. Rockson felt the blood collecting in his head, his legs going numb. If this kept up, he’d burst a blood vessel any second . . .
    Suddenly Streltsy shouted, “Stop the wheel! I want to play this man.”
    Rockson was unstrapped and escorted to the chessboard. He could hardly walk, his legs were so numb; and his head was still reeling from the wheel. Streltsy sat down opposite him. “Let’s get this straight. If I win, you give me your word of honor—I’m aware it’s good—that you will tell me what I want to know?”
    Rockson paused, waiting for the room to stop spinning. “Yes,” said Rockson, “and if I win—I go free.” Rockson was careful not to mention that he was the Inter-Free City chess champion.
    Streltsy’s eyes lit up, going for the deal. “I’m the number two ranked grandmaster of the Western Hemisphere. I will polish you off in minutes. It’s a deal. I accept your offer. I give you my word as an officer.”
    Rockson nodded. “Good. Let’s play.”
    Rockson had counted on his fantastic memory of past chess games he had studied to carry him through. But Streltsy, if he was a grandmaster, would know those games too. Still, there was nothing to do but go on with the game.
    Streltsy said he wanted red, Rockson would play white. They sat down at the table and Rockson said, “First, could I have a little water?”
    Streltsy laughed. “After we play.”
    With all the guns pointed at him, Rockson had no choice but to play by Streltsy’s rules. No water being one of them. The Soviet generously—no, overconfidently—let Rock make first move, which Rockson knew gave a slight advantage.
    The game began, the soldiers huddled in a circle around the board, cheering on their leader.
    Rockson didn’t play his best game by far, but Streltsy was worse!
ROCKSON 
STRELTSY 
1. P–K4 
P–QB4 
2. N–KB3 
N–QB3 
3. P–Q4 
PxP 
4. NxP 
P–K4 
5. N–B5 
KN–K2 
6. N–Q6 Mate! 
 
    Rockson had defeated the Soviet grandmaster in a mere six moves!
    “Impossible,” gasped the Soviet lieutenant.
    “Obviously it isn’t impossible, Streltsy. Now I want my glass of water, and then I want to be freed, as you promised.”
    Streltsy smiled. “I say you cheated. You forfeit the game! But you will get your wish to be outside. I think I would like to see you dragged behind my