"English scum!" One of the soldiers smashed the butt of his rifle into Avery's face. "Where's the woman?"

Avery grunted and spat blood onto the ground. "She's right over there." He was lying on his side, hands still tied together in front of him.

They had started their interrogation on Avery first and were clearly enjoying causing him pain. Some passed a bottle around and joked as it went on.

"Your joke has grown old, English dog. The man who warned us about you ...