(Sorry about the delay for this update.)
It seems the First Guard according to the mission logs were going to soften up the target using the white phosphorus, since the barn was made out of wood. However, the leader of the First Guard is blaming the error on a radio malfunction which caused the artillery commander on the other end to mishear "begin shelling the barn with minimally lethal, high-building damaging shells" with "begin shelling the barn with white phosphorous". As for the clerical error, we can't actually find the person who made the clerical error. The commander, the First Guard, and the makers of the military maps are all claiming that this cannot be their fault. So I suppose the white phosphorous most likely just sort of... happened to land on the town, for some reason.
Alright, we're going to be cutting to the interrogation now. I'll sort out the rest of the orders while you listen to the interrogation.
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, SOMEWHERE IN TEJEKOV.
Technician Sadovich: "Looks like the Strike Squad roughed him up some before we got him. He's got a lot of bruises... no wonder he's knocked out."
Technician Volkov: "Yeah, he's out cold... Let's give him five minutes."
Technician Sadovich: "So, how was your holiday?"
Technician Volkov: "Oh yeah, that went well. Ate a hamburger in Macdonalds!"
Technician Sadovich: "Shit, bro, what was it like?"
Technician Volkov: "It was so bad. Doesn't stand up to Commissar Dan's at all. Fried chicken is the best."
Technician Sadovich: "I prefer Communist Fried Chicken myself. Oh, hey, his eyes are flickering. You're bad cop, I'm good cop."
Technician Volkov: "Yeah, I was sick of good cop."
At this point, Technician Sadovich used highly advanced resuscitation technology to wake Gerald Simpson up.
Gerald Simpson: "GAAH FUCK! Why did you throw water over me!?"
Technician Volkov: "We ask the fucking questions! Not you!"
Technician Sadovich: "Name and address."
Gerald: "Hm, my name is Go Fuck Yourself, and my address is Get Me Out Of This Goddamn Chair, GoDieInAHoleistan."
Technician Sadovich: "Got a comedian here."
Technician Volkov: "You know what we do to comedians here? We get out the car battery and the jumper cables! Guess what we do with these?"
Gerald: "I imagine I don't want to know?"
Technician Volkov: "Now he's getting it! Where is the location of the chemical weaponry?"
Gerald: "I wouldn't know a thing about that."
Technician Sadovich: "You don't wanna get this guy angry. He's kinda on edge."
Technician Volkov: "Exactly, so tell us the location or we will get extremely pissed off!"
Gerald: "So? You can try torturing me, but the thing is that you're not going to get what you want. We both know I possess the chemical weaponry. However, I am the only one who knows where it is. The strike squad killed everyone else who could have broken more easily then me. Your incompetent strike squad couldn't organize a shitting contest in a bathroom, so I doubt you're going to send out teams to search for it. You can try and torture me, but if you kill me you'll never know where the chemical weapons are. And believe me... you probably want to know."
Technician Volkov: "... Why would we want to know that?"
Gerald: "Let's just say I'm moving on up from spraying pesticide. It's amazing what the Soviets worked on. Weaponized smallpox, bubonic plague, while the rest of the world made nukes the Soviets made the worst diseases a human could dream up. My employers have given me the authorization to use the chemicals I bought. I have men who are ready to begin the process in a few hours."
Technician Volkov: "... You're not going to..."
Gerald: "Unless you come up with a damn good reason for me to not do so, yes. I'm going to do that."
Technician Sadovich: "Oh shit."
Health: 8
Will: 12