The captain released Francis's hair. His head slumped to the desk with a thud. He was whimpering in terror. Francis started pleading for some mercy but the captain paid him no heed. Captain Bramkamp opened his desk drawer and pulled out some rope and threw it to Private Schultz. No further instructions were needed. Shultz and Muller set about their task, gleefully removing Francis's shoes and jeans then tying an ankle each to the legs of the captain's antique mahogany desk.

Francis grimaced as he was stripped and his ankles were bound, but he made no attempt to resist. He knew it was futile. It was best to comply and hope that the captain wasn't too severe in the punishment he had in mind. Those hopes were soon fraught when the captain next spoke.

"This dog needs to be taught a lesson. The welfare of The Reich comes before everything. He put his own needs first. He left the capture of the British airmen to chance and indulged in fornication before telling what he knew. So we'll indulge in some more fornication; and add an element of chance to the fucks at his filthy French ass."

Francis watched in wide eyed horror as the captain removed his revolver from his holster. He opened the chamber and emptied out the bullets, letting them spill onto the polished wooden floor. He then reached down, and out of clear sight of Francis and the German soldiers, the captain appeared to reload the chamber with an unknown number of bullets. The rest of the bullets he put in his pocket. He then closed the chamber and flicked it around before placing the barrel against Francis's head, the cold hard metal pressing into his temple. Francis let out a yelp of abject terror and clamped his eyes closed.

"Chances to live and chances to die," the captain mused as he waved the revolver in front of Francis's petrified face. "I know the odds - you can only guess. But there is a chance - you have at least one chance to stay alive..."

The captain made a tap with the gun barrel against Francis's skull. Taking the hint, Francis forced his eyes open and stared in terror at the German's stern face as his sentence was announced.

"You obviously like to take chances, Francis," the captain continued. "You took a chance last night and took this idiot corporal to bed before informing him of what you knew. Well I'm going to do the same. Your reward for the information is more fucking. These men here need to let off some steam and they'll happily help me administer that reward. Four fucks for four enemies taken, that sounds like a fair payment for your collaboration. But there has to be punishment as well for the delay... Your punishment will be the chance - a chance to live or to die at the end of each fuck. Of course the odds will diminish each time, should you still be alive. The more you get fucked, the more likely it is that you will find a bullet. We'll let God, or Fate, or whatever you believe in, decide what you deserve, Francis Lambert... for the decision you took last night."