The Coming Great Deception

Redlum felt a wave of excitement rollover him as the plane touched down on the tarmac. The small leer jet landed surprisingly gracefully compared to any of the commercial airliners he had been on. One of the many perks of being on a special assignment. Agent Redlum thought I could get used to this. As he placed his tablet back into his leather satchel. As the plane taxied into a small private hanger Redlum sat forward in the plush leather chair and set the satchel on the table in front of him. He carefully verified everything he needed was still in the bag. Mentally checking things off a list as he saw each item. He had his tablet, containing the dossier he had been given before departure, his passport, Immunity Passport, drivers license and several credit cards confirming his identity as a business man from America. Bullshit, of course but convincing enough for any customs agent or police officer who may run them.

He also had three envelopes he had been given. Each containing $10,000 cash or the equivalent in euros and local currency. Cash had lost most of it’s appeal since the Global Currency Reset. Now most businesses require payment in digital currency. And of course it was mandatory to conduct all transactions for housing, property and utilities with a digital papertrail. However, there were still, as there always has been, people that wanted cash or precious metals to conduct business without being tracked. And as Redlum had been taught, anyone willing to accept a bribe would be more willing to accept it if they were sure they wouldn’t get caught.

As the plane gently came to a stop, Redlum looked out of the small window and saw a car and a driver waiting at the back of the hangar. He had been told a car would be waiting for him although he hadn’t thought about it until now, he was disappointed by the drastic decline in luxury from the elegant leer to what appeared to be a ten year old Mercedes van. Covered in dust and a fender that was clearly a different color than the rest of the van. But he shrugged off his disappointment, picking up his bag and standing up to leave the plane. As soon as he stood up he felt the weight of his glock tucked into his pants at the small of his back. He quickly patted the gun with his free hand to ensure it was secure and proceeded to walk to the door, now open, showing a small flight of stairs leading to the tarmac. He took a couple deep breaths to steady himself, hoping to shake off the anxiety that had suddenly risen inside of him. He was in a foreign country, on his first assignment. Years of training, testing and performing monotonous tasks for more senior agents had finally brought him here. After exhaling and feeling most of his panic transformed into excitement, Redlum started down the stairs.

His eyes immediately took notice of the driver approaching him. He was a tall man, stocky and appeared to be very fit and casually dressed… he looked more like a tourist than a chauffeur.

The driver approached Redlum and extended his hand. ” Agent Redlum I presume?” He asked with a friendly smile. ” Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Redlum replied with a firm handshake.

In one fluid movement. The driver clamped down on Redlum’s hand squeezing his knuckles together and struck Redlum in the nose with a hard left cross. The blow sent Redlum stumbling backwards and he fell back onto the steps of the plane. He hit his head on one of the steps. Redlum tried to look up but could only see stars. He shook his head and as his vision cleared he began to see the outline of a man standing there. His eyes began to focus more. The driver was standing there, his face was emotionless. There was sunlight glinting off of something in his hand. And then Redlum realized what it was. He was instantly cold, frozen still. Goosebumps raised on his neck and arms. The man was pointing a gun at him..

The driver slowly squeezed the trigger. In what seemed like minutes, Redlum waited for the sound of the shot. And then “click.” Redlum looked at the gun and then at the man holding it. His lips began to curl and then, with a smile he said “Welcome to Thailand Agent.” He put the gun back into the concealed holster in his waistband and extended his hand down to help Redlum up. As Redlum took his hand and began to get back to his feet. The man shook his hand and said “I’m Jeff. Sorry about that.. It’s important that you learn quickly if you’re going to be in the field. First lesson is to remember who you are.” Redlum could feel his upper lip swelling already. He raised his hand to his mouth. When he drew it back and saw blood on his fingers. “Always stay in character.” Jeff added.

“Let’s get going rookie.” Jeff said as he picked up Redlum’s satchel and started for the van. Redlum started after him. He almost had to jog to keep pace. By the time he opened the passenger side door Jeff had already placed the satchel in the backseat and started the van. Jeff put the van in drive and began heading toward the hanger door. Two cars pulled in and blocked the door. Jeff stopped about fifty feet from the door and put it back into park. “How well do you know your cover story?” He asked Redlum without taking his eyes off of the cars. “Pretty well. I studied it on the way over.” Redlum said immediately, proudly. I’m here on business looking for a new manufacturer and distributor for asian markets.”

“Good. What kind of business do you own? What do you sell? Where is your current manufacturing plant located?” Jeff fired off the questions at Redlum and stared quietly at the cars and then began to stutter out Answers to them. I sell office supplies… My current plant is located in Arkansas…” What city?” Jeff asked.

“What?” Redlum asked.

“What city is your plant in?” Jeff repeated the question.

Redlum struggled to think of a name for any city in Arkansas. He couldn’t. “You should have studied a little harder. Any customs agent could quickly look up your business and determine that you made all that up. But they wouldn’t have to because you sound like you’re lying anyway. You sound scared, like you were caught. The agency puts a lot of work into creating your cover story. All of it can be verified but not if you don’t take the time to memorize the details.

A man got out of the black BMW that had pulled in first. He was in his late forties. Short and overweight. He approached the other vehicle that was marked in a language Redlum didn’t understand. It appeared to be a police car. The driver of the other car then got out and they began talking. The two men were both smiling and gesturing toward the van Jeff and Redlum were in.

“Are those cops?” Redlum asked. “No, Customs agents.” Jeff replied. “ We have arrangements with the local customs agents. Our flights are chartered through the same agency. When the flight plans are made, the airport confirms them and the customs agents we have on our payroll to ensure that they are the ones to search our plane and check us in. Of course, they never do and a report gets filed that everything checks out. The fat fuck in the suit there is agent Lee. He is middle management and noticed that his supervisor was always volunteering to check our flights in, even in the middle of the night or on his days off. His supervisor would show up and check us in. He got suspicious. About a month ago, when we brought our terrorist friend in, he showed up to inspect our plane and documents. When he pulled in, he found us with a prisoner drugged, cuffed and hooded. I was lucky enough to stop him from calling for backup. Cost me fifteen thousand dollars to shut him up. And I still think he only did it because he knew I’d shoot him and be out of there before his backup showed. Redlum was staring at Jeff to see if he was serious. “He knows we’re CIA?” Redlum asked. “Wipe the blood off of your face. Jeff said as he handed him a napkin. No. He doesn’t know anything at all. He probably thinks we’re smuggling drugs or guns. The important thing is that he knows that his supervisor will file a report in twenty minutes saying He was here and everything checks out. There isn’t anything he can do without contradicting his boss and probably losing his job..”

The man began walking toward their van. “Is that why he was brought back up?” So he could have witnesses to corroborate his story? Redum asked. His stomach was tied up in knots. “No, I doubt it. All he has us on now is having guns. He can’t get into the tablets and he’d have to detain us to get any answers. Meanwhile, his supervisor is probably eating lunch right now and would have to rush in and release us to avoid some very awkward questions about his false reports he filed… If I had to guess, he brought backup so I wouldn’t shoot him. He wants money. How much did they give you?” Redlum grabbed his satchel and pulled out the envelope with U.S. dollars. “10k” He replied. “That oughta do it.” Jeff replied.

The customs agent approached the driver’s side window. Jeff hit the button and the window began to drop and screeched and stopped with a clunk halfway down. “Sorry agent Lee, the window is broken. What can I do for you?” Lee smiled revealing his yellow teeth. Jeff, my good friend, it appears that you almost forgot to go through customs again. I’m sure you’re aware that you are required to wait in the hanger until an agent can check you in.” As Lee spoke his breath wafted into the van. It made Redlum’s stomach churn, or it could have just been the fear. Jeff sighed, “Yes, but nobody showed up and we’re in quite a hurry. Time is money.” “I was just telling my friend in the car over there that same thing. You Americans fly in on your hundred thousand dollar chartered flights to make millions of dollars and don’t want to be held up with paperwork.”

That’s right.” Jeff said. “We are in a hurry, so here are our passports, as well as our Immunity Passports.” Jeff put the envelope inside of his passport and then handed it through the window. Lee took the passport and turned away from the other car so they wouldn’t see him slip the envelope into his pocket. “It’s good to see you again Jeff. I’ll see you next time. Just let me tell my men that everything checks out and we will be out of your way.” Lee started back for the cars at the hanger door.

Jeff put the car back in drive and began slowly moving toward them. “ See, all people really want is money.” The marked car began to back out of the hanger and Jeff sped through the gap, just missing Lee on his way back to his car.

Within a minute they were out of the private airport and on a busy street. Traffic was almost at a standstill, waiting to get through the immunity checkpoint. He thought those would go away after the pandemic, but they never did. Everywhere you went you ran the risk of getting stopped by soldiers that made you swipe your Immunity Passport and verify you were up to date on your vaccinations.

The sidewalks were covered by pedestrians walking around. Redlum looked at them thinking about what Jeff had just said. Each person was walking somewhere. With the exception of the few tourists taking selfies, each one appeared to be rushed. Heading home, to work, perhaps to meet friends or family for dinner. Is it possible that Jeff was right? At the end of the day did everyone just care about money? Is that all that matters? He spotted a businessman in a very nice suit walking alongside them. He was obviously in a hurry, yelling at someone on the phone. Redlum figured that the gold watch the man was wearing probably cost more than Redlum’s annual salary at the agency. And still, here he was walking down the street yelling at someone on the phone like the world was ending.

It crossed Redlum’s mind just how close the world had come to ending. There was a brief period when the bubble burst when banks, the stock markets and just about every retail store had all but shut down. People around the world began to riot. Looting was the first thing to happen. Then as people grew more desperate, they began to steal from each other. Millions of people were killed in just a month. But then the International Monetary Fund stepped in with a plan. They organized all of the central banks and bailed out the world. He would never forget the day the U.S. government announced that the banks had been reopened and every citizen would have $2,000 Fedcoin deposited into their account. The president had promised that every citizen would receive regular monthly deposits until businesses could rebuild and get people back to work.

The rioting seemed to stop overnight. The next day he had to wait two hours to get into the grocery store. Another three hours to get his groceries and checkout. But he could remember the faces of everyone in the store. Despite the fact that the shelves were sparsely stocked with government MRE’s and canned goods that had been seized by the military from warehouses before looters could get there, people were smiling. They were happy. Most of them had been hiding in their homes starving, and watching their kids starve. That was the first time they had been able to go shopping, the first glimpse of hope since the world crashed. And now, just a year later, people have managed to fall right back into their bad habits.

There was a loud thud and the car suddenly jerked to a stop snapping Redlum out of his daydream. Jeff had hit someone. The man pulled himself up from the street and picked up his phone. Then smacked the hood of the van . He appeared to be homeless, there were alot more homeless since the reset. “Watch where you’re fucking walking!” Jeff yelled out at him.. The man yelled back at him in another language. And kept on walking across the street in between cars. “You never get used to that.” Jeff said. “People just walk right out into the street. They are oblivious to what’s going on around them.” Isn’t that the truth? Redlum thought to himself.

Traffic began to pick up and they were getting out of the city. Redlum was seeing apartments and a few houses instead of just businesses. Jeff made an abrupt turn off the road into a driveway. A large, ornate gate swung open granting them access to a cobblestone driveway lined with Japanese maples on both sides. The tires chirped as Jeff came to a stop in front of an old house. Redlum looked at the house confused. It was old. The stairs and porch were made out of stone. And the house was brick but everything looked very aged. The paint on the pillars along the porch had paint peeling, the window trim was cracked and the roof was missing shingles.

“I thought we were going to the prison?” Redlum asked, confused. “We’re here.” Jeff replied with a smile. “Now grab your purse, let’s go.” Redlum reached into the backseat and retrieved his satchel. As he headed to the porch he noticed that some of the stones in the driveway were pressed further into the ground, some of them were cracked too. As if something heavy had been parked there. As he reached the top of the stairs he noticed that the door, in stark contrast to the rest of the house, was brand new. As Jeff knocked, it sounded like it was steel and heavy.

Redlum lifted his eyes off the tracks and back up to follow Jeff up to the front door. Seemingly knowing that Redlum had been staring at the tracks Jeff said “They’re from the crane. We needed it for the remodel.”

There was a loud mechanical clicking noise as the deadbolt unlocked. The door opened and Jeff walked in, Redlum followed. As soon as he stepped in, his attention was drawn to a large concrete box at one side of the living room. The ceilings were high, maybe twelve feet and the box stopped about a foot below the ceiling. It extended about three feet from the wall and was about six feet long. The door slammed behind him. Startled, Redlum turned around to see a man in his early thirties, wearing a white button down shirt and 511 slacks. As the man turned from locking the deadbolt Redlum could see the screen on the tablet the man was holding. The screen was divided into four monitors showing what looked like live feeds from security cameras around the property.

“You can call me Matt”. The man said as he reached his hand out toward Redlum. “David Redlum,” He replied as he shook his hand. “Let me show you a room where you can set your things down.” Matt said and nodded at Redlum’s satchel. “Okay.” Redlum said and they walked across the living room into the hallway. With a closer look Redlum could see that the box was made of concrete slabs bolted together. When they reached the hallway there was an open door. He looked inside and could see that the other half of the box extended into a bathroom.

Matt entered the next room and Redlum followed him in. It was, like the rest of the house, very nice but old and in need of some work. The walls were covered with a very colorful wallpaper that was peeling in places. And the furniture and lamps were very nice and gold trimmed. “Go ahead and leave your things here. But you need to be briefed in the kitchen.” Matt said politely. “In the kitchen?” Redlum asked. “Yeah. Boss’ favorite room.” and with that, Matt walked back into the living room.

Redlum sat his things on the bed and walked back into the living room. He could see Jeff standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Jeff turned and waved him in. Redlum stepped into the kitchen. It smelled of steak. Real steak. He could hear the sizzle of meat on the skillet to his left. He felt his mouth water immediately. How can these guys afford real meat? I haven’t had a real steak since the reset. It’s not that I haven’t seen it in the stores, I just can’t afford the carbon tax on it… How can they?

He turned and saw an older man standing over the stove. He was slightly overweight and broad in the shoulders. His hair was mostly gray with just a little black scattered throughout. “Are you the warden?” Redlum blurted out. Jeff and the old man laughed and he could hear Matt stifle a laugh in the living room. Redlums face felt flush and he looked down at his feet. “The warden? I like that rookie. Most people here call me boss. Warden works just fine though.” Once Redlum could see his face he realized the man wasn’t as old as he initially thought. Maybe late forties or early fifties. But he had aged badly. His skin was weathered, he had crows feet and bags under his eyes. The warden turned and flipped his steak with a fork. He reached over and grabbed a salt shaker and shook out enough salt to season at least five steaks. Then he turned off the stove and used the fork to transfer the steak to a plate. After he put the plate on the table, he extended his hand out to Jeff who handed him a tablet. The warden wiped his free hand on his pants leaving a streak of grease and then proceeded to swipe and tap on the tablet. He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. Not a word was said as the warden opened the beer, sat down and took a few long swigs from the bottle. He never took his eyes off the tablet and nodded his head a few times.

“Okay rookie, here’s the deal. I see this is your first assignment in the field. Looks like you just completed your interrogation training last month?” He asked. “Yes sir.” Redlum replied. This suddenly felt like a job interview. It was, in a way. If you screw up your first assignment, you may not get another one. God knows there are thousands of people who join the CIA to live an exciting James bond style life. But all he had seen in years was a cubicle and even that was a step up from grabbing coffee and lunch for the agents when he was an intern. “Well, I hate to be the one who tells you this, but it is going to be a bust. The agency isn’t going to send a rookie out to interrogate a big fish. We have a prisoner here that you can question. But he has been questioned for weeks. By Matt, Jeff and myself. He doesn’t know anything.” The warden cut off a piece of his steak and began chewing “But I’ll tell you what, I’ll send you in there to get your feet wet. I want you to run through all the techniques that you learned in class. He speaks English, although it’s not great. And then when you’re done, I can send in a report saying you did well.”

“I was sent here to get answers. When I was briefed at HQ they told me this prisoner had links to a terrorist cell and I was to get names and any information that could lead to their whereabouts. That’s what I intend to do.” Redlum said loudly. Jeff and the warden exchanged a glance and then both laughed again. He took another large bite of his steak and pointed his fork at Redlum. “Okay son, if you think you can get answers out of him you go in there and try. I’ve been doing this for twenty years and I’ve asked him nicely and not nicely. If he knew anything, we’d have that intel by now. You were sent here to get your feet wet. You were sent here to learn and get experience. That’s what you’ll do, whether you get answers or not.” The warden said and then turned his focus to his steak. Redlum started to say something and Jeff stopped him with a tap on the shoulder. “You better clean your face up before you go in there.” Redlum put his finger to his upper lip again and felt the dried blood. ” The bathroom is this way.” Jeff said as he walked out of the kitchen. Jeff stopped at the door, just passed the bedroom Redlum had placed his bag in. Jeff opened the door and turned the light on. “Make sure you don’t take your weapon in with you”

Jeff walked away, back into the living room. Redlum looked in the mirror. He turned on the faucet and cupped his hands. The cold water felt refreshing on his face. He closed his eyes, placed one hand on each side of the sink and just listened to the water run for a few moments. What is going on here? He thought to himself. For years, he had been going to classes learning how to interrogate people. He had listened to people talk about experiences in the field where they had gathered intel from terrorists and spies. And in his head when he had been given his assignment he had pictured his “prisoner” to be in a prison. I suppose this was a prison, of sorts. Not the supermax he had seen on TV with twelve foot tall fences topped with barbed wire. There were no guards in uniforms or centuries posted with rifles. Where are the cells? He thought to himself. I haven’t seen any cells. They have to keep prisoners somewhere. His mind flashed with images of a massive underground facility. That would make sense. They have to have a cover. He thought of the depressed cobblestones in the driveway. There had been equipment parked out there. Maybe for digging? And the door was new too. Maybe they had to remove it to move things in.

Redlum could feel his pulse quicken. He was sweating. He splashed more water in his face and turned the faucet off. The concrete box in the living room. That has to be the entrance. He thought. Not as complex and sophisticated as he’d hoped and the underground cells probably were not as close to the “hive” he was now picturing from Resident evil. But that had to be an entrance to something. It couldn’t serve any other purpose.

He checked his face in the mirror and once he was sure the blood was cleaned up, he reached for the knob on the door. In just a few minutes he would be sitting in a cell with a terrorist. And it was his job to be in control of the situation. To be smarter, more clever and more deceptive if he was going to be successful. He took a few deep breaths to slow his pulse and then turned the doorknob and walked out to the living room.

When he entered the room Jeff was sitting on the couch talking to the warden. They both turned to greet him. “Okay rookie, take a seat and get your tablet out.” He felt his face flush. He’d forgotten the tablet in the room. “I’ll be right back.” He said and rushed back to get it. You need to get your shit together, David. He mumbled to himself as he retrieved his tablet and ran back into the living room. He sat in a large leather chair across from the couch they were sitting in. “Okay, are you ready now?” the warden asked and chuckled. “Yes sir.” He replied. Redlum placed his hand over the face of the tablet to unlock it. It had the file on Amir Assad already open. “As I said earlier, He has already been interrogated for a month. All you need to do is run through the motions.

Try to get names, locations, whatever you can from this guy. It isn’t like it was back when the war on terror was centered in the middle east. I remember the glory days of chasing islamic terrorists cells from Iraq to Afghanistan or Pakistan or Yemen. Shit, I thought I was going to have to retire when we pulled out of Afghanistan but the reset saved us. Having the United Nations virtually take over every country on the planet pissed a lot of people off. Then, when they started changing laws, amending constitutions, imposing curfews, enforcing restrictions and checkpoints small groups of terrorists rose up. There are people up the food chain who think that these groups must be unified, take orders from someone. Personally, I don’t. We are talking about cartels in South America, Bratva in Russia and the Yakusa and Triads in asia all making strategic attacks on the United Nations because they have lost business with the roll out of a cashless society. And they recruit and inspire other non members to attack as well. They are creating chaos… True worldwide terrorism.

But it isn’t an organized rebellion like the politicians think. Look at our subject here, Isis made a swift takeover of most of the terror cells in the middle east after Al Queda tried to legitimize itself. Everyday muslims couldn’t stand the thought of their country being officially ruled by infidels from the U.N. after Al Qaeda relinquished power to them. And a new generation of terrorists have been blowing shit up ever since. That’s good news for us. The political pressure to crush dissidence has given us a nearly unlimited budget. The budget for the CIA, FBI and other law enforcement has risen exponentially. The same goes for every country in the world. It is getting harder and harder to hide from the government. And with our budget, we’ve been doing raids more frequently than I had ever dreamed. Amir was picked up at one of the raids. I don’t think he knows anything so don’t be too disappointed if you can’t get anything.”

“Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.” Redlum said. With a nod from the warden, Jeff stood up and withdrew a single key from his pocket. Redlum stood to follow him. Jeff led the way into the bathroom they had passed earlier. “There are a few procedures you need to be aware of: No weapons in the cell. You can take notes on your tablet if you like but not with pen andqx paper. And you don’t need to take notes. There is a camera at the front and back left corner at each end of the cell. Everything will be recorded and monitored by Matt the entire time you are in there. “ Redlum shook his head yes. He was used to his every move being recorded. He’d felt as if he’d been watched at all times since he joined the CIA. There were cameras everywhere. They were always listening.

Jeff took the key and began to unlock a padlock on the concrete wall. Redlum realized that he had missed it at first. The walls in the living room were held together with bolts but the wall they were standing in front of had large steel hinges on one side and the padlock held a steel pin that looked like it lached the two walls together. It was a door. Once the lock was off Jeff pulled the door open. The smell of urine, feces and body odor filled Redlums nostrils. He put his nose into his sleeve and stifled a gag. “You get used to that.” Jeff said, stepping aside to allow Redlum to see into the doorway. He moved his arm down and took a second to make sure he was seeing this right. There was a small steel table bolted to the tile floor. Behind the table was a man handcuffed to it. He was wearing a hood over his face and had large headphones over the hood. Redlum could hear seventies rock music playing. The clothes the man was wearing were filthy. They were covered in blood and stained from sweat.

“What the fuck is this?” Redlum whispered to Jeff. “You don’t need to whisper, he can’t hear us with the headphones on.”

Redlums pointed at the man in the chair. “Is that Amir? You just keep him in a box in the fucking bathroom?” Jeff’s face turned from a friendly look to one of anger, or resentment. “What is a cell if not a box? You think you can build a huge prison in a foreign country and people won’t notice? The agency doesn’t need another Gitmo in the limelight and prisoners don’t need to see the bars on their windows or constantine wire keeping them in the yard. You simply show them the cell they’re in and nothing else. This is all he knows about this place and for all he knows he is in Gitmo. You see rookie, people only see what you show them. And yes, the bathroom, because we needed a drain to hose him down… People stink after a few days without a toilet. So just get in there, do your job and ask questions. And rookie, one more rule, the door doesn’t open when he has his hood or headphones off.” Jeff stepped back with one hand on the door waiting for Redlum to step in.

Redlum took a step into the room and the door began to close behind him. He jumped when he heard it latch. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breath. His collar was tightening around his neck. Redlum took a deep breath. The stench made him queasy. Relax, you’re fine. He thought to himself. Being locked in a cell made him much more claustrophobic. He had never experienced this before but he had heard other agents talk about it. The fear of being locked in with a murderer and knowing you couldn’t get out no matter what you tried. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Amir moaned in pain. Redlum opened his eyes. Okay, let’s get this over with. He suddenly just wanted to get this over with and get out. Fresh air seemed more important to him than a good review from the warden at this point. Reblum stepped around the table and slowly grabbed the headphones and pulled them off of Amir’s head. Amir did not move. He dropped them to the floor and they landed next to a drain. It looked like the drain appeared to be all that was left from the shower that used to be there. He pulled the hood up slowly and it stuck. He tugged it again and it came loose with a groan from Amir. After he got the hood off he could see that it was stuck to some dry blood on Amir’s forehead. He had a gash on his forehead that was beginning to scab. It looked infected. As Amir was squinting at the rush of light Redlum was even more disgusted by the damage done to his face. Amir had a broken nose that had not set right. His eyes were both swollen but his left eye was swollen shut. “Are you going to kill me now?” Amir asked with a very heavy Arabic accent. As he spoke Redlum could see that he was missing several teeth. He began to wonder if he had lost them before or during his detainment.

“No, I’m not here to kill you.” Redlum said. He turned to walk back around the small table and was blinded by the bright LED lights. He realized now that they had been placed there to Keep Amir from seeing the door or his interrogators. “I’m just here to ask you some questions.” Redlum said. Amir sat up and winced in pain. He probably had some broken ribs based on the way he leaned to his left. He lifted his hands and the chain on the cuffs clanked loudly against the ring on the table. “Do I look like I’m holding out on you? I have been asked the same hundred questions a thousand times since I came here. I don’t have any answers for you. As he held his hands up in exasperation Redlum could see that all of his fingers were broken. He thought to himself, who could do something like this to another human being? This isn’t any better than what the terrorists were doing. Hell, this was worse than anything he’s seen terrorists do. I just have to get through this and when I get back to HQ I can report them.

“Mr Assad. I’m here to ask you some questions. I can see that the men who have been questioning you have used some rather barbaric interrogation techniques. I’ve been sent here to replace them. You and I are going to start fresh. I’ll ask questions and you answer them, okay?” Redlum asked. Amir began to cry. “I don’t know anything, I swear.”

Redlum unlocked his tablet. He scrolled to the top of the report. To the incident where Amir was arrested. “Let’s start with the day you were arrested.” Redlum said. “Arrested?” Amir asked and chuckled. His laugh was cut short with a cough that lasted a good thirty seconds. As he coughed specks of blood sprayed across the steel table. “Call it whatever you want, Mr. Assad, The day you were picked up. Let’s talk about that day. Redlum scanned his report. What I have here says that a raid was conducted at a mechanic shop and you were one of the men picked up. Now, intel that led to the raid suggested that the shop had been used to make explosives used in car bombs. The team found several men wanted for terrorist activity among the casualties and materials used to make explosives.” What was your role in this activity?”

Amir sighed. “I have told you, I mean, your other agents, a thousand times. I went into that village to buy a used truck. I have a small farm a hundred kilometers away. My oldest son is getting old enough to drive and I need to get him a truck to help on the farm. I went to see this man and see if he had a truck he could sell me.”

“Why were you at a shop trying to purchase a truck? The man who owned the shop was a mechanic, not a car salesman. Redlum asked. Amir sighed again. Tears began to well up in his one good eye. I was told by a friend that he had purchased a truck from this man last year. He got a good deal and I don’t have enough money to buy anything new.” Have you ever been to this shop before?” Redlum asked, “No.” Amir answered “When you arrived did you recognize any of the men in the shop?” Redlum asked. “No.” Amir answered.

“Okay, so you don’t know any of these men?” Amir asked. He turned his tablet around displaying a set of eleven pictures of men. These are the men that were killed in the raid. Each one of these men fought to the death. You are the only one who did not fight and the only one captured alive.” Redlum said. “I understand. I’m sure that you can understand that if you look into the other items in the shop you will find tools, car parts and shop supplies to show that this man ran a shop, as a cover, if nothing else. I’m sure if you went through his financials you would see that he had customers that did nothing else but have their vehicles fixed and if you look hard enough you will find people that had bought used vehicles from him.” Amir said. “And I am not any different than them. any one of those people could be in my shoes right now if the timing had been different. “

“How did you say you were referred to This man?” Redlum asked. Amir said “My neighbor, a man I knew very little. We were at church talking about the upcoming harvest and I was telling him that I needed a truck for my son. So he could help this year. Then he told me that he had a friend in town that might be able to help me out. I asked for an address and then I ended up in a room full of soldiers shooting.” Redlum scrolled on his tablet. “What was his name? Your neighbor? I don’t see that in the report?” Amir lowered his head into his hands. He rubbed his swollen eye. Muhamed Jazeer.”

“And you know him from the church? You go to the same Mosque?” Redlum asked. “Yes.”

Redlum sat back in his chair. “Amir, I believe you. You seem to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will file my report and we’ll see about getting you released.”

Amir looked up at Redlum. Tears began to roll down his cheek. “Do you think I’m stupid?” He asked. “The men who have tortured me since I’ve been here are not going to release me. They are going to kill me.” Redlum sat there for a second. He understood Amir’s point. He would be a huge liability if he decided to talk. But he remembered something he had seen on the news years ago. He typed on his tablet for a minute and turned the tablet over to Amir. “This is a news article about a man who was wrongfully accused much like you were. He was held for several years and then released.” Amir scanned the article. “Amir, I want to be clear about something. If I am able to get you released you would have to sign a non-disclosure and you would be given a cover story to explain your disappearance.” Amir’s crying intensified. I’ll do anything you want. I sign anything you want to get back to my family.” He said. Redlum tapped a few more times on his tablet. “ You see, this man did not. He was given a story that explained he had been injured in an IED attack. And after that he woke up in a hospital. It took years for him to wake up and be well enough to get home. This man was, of course, given documents from the hospital, doctors that corroborated his story and for several months he stuck to it.” Redlum flipped the tablet back over to Amir. It displayed another article. A woman and three children were pictures at a funeral. “At some point he began telling locals that he was imprisoned, tortured and moved to secret prisons. That man ended up being discretted by doctors and deemed mentally unstable due to trauma he sustained in the attack and eventually shot himself.” Amir, if you were released, you would have to keep this secret for your protection and for the protection of your family as well.” Amir smiled, for the first time since Redlum had taken the hood off. Probably for the first time since he was kidnapped. “I swear, anything. I will do anything for as long as it takes.”

Redlum stood. I thank you for your cooperation. And I can’t begin to apologize for what you have been put through. But when I get back to the office I will begin working on your release.” There was a long silence after Redlum turned toward the door. His tablet chimed and Redlum looked down. A message read “The door doesn’t open if his hood and headphones aren’t on.” Redlum’s heart sank. He turned around and looked Amir in the face. He was still smiling and tears rolled down his cheek. And then Redlum turned his gaze to the hood and headphones on the floor. Amir’s gaze followed. Amir shook his head yes and then smiled again. “It’s okay. Go ahead. Redlum bent over and picked up the hood and slipped it over Amir’s head. He then put the headphones over his head. Through the sound of rock music he could barely hear Amir whisper “Thank you.”

The door opened and he walked out into the bathroom. The fresh air filled his lungs and Redlum felt light headed. Jeff shut the door behind him and returned the padlock. “Not bad rookie.” Jeff said. Redlum was silent. He suddenly couldn’t make eye contact with Jeff, or any of the men who could do something like that to other people. “You’ll be debriefed in the kitchen.” Jeff said. He patted Redlum on the shoulder. “First time in the field is never as glamorous as you expect it to be.” Jeff added and walked out to the kitchen.

Redlum left the room but turned right instead. He went back into the bedroom and locked the door behind him. He went to the bathroom and threw up. He wanted to blame it on the odor of the cell. It was still lingering on his suit. But he knew it was nerves or adrenaline, maybe guilt. His heart was pounding in his chest and his stomach was tied up in knots. He could feel the sweat pooling on his forehead. After washing his face and rinsing his mouth out he took a few minutes to calm down and then headed into the kitchen.

“You were good, rookie.” The warden said. He was sitting at the table looking at a tablet. “You got a name. That’s more than I expected.” Redlum thought for a minute. “What name?” He asked. “The neighbor.” We asked several times. He gave us a name the first couple times and that friend checked out. This time, He gave you a different name.” The warden sat the tablet aside. “I have people looking into this new name. We’ll see how it pans out.”

“What about his release?” Redlum asked. The warden chuckled. “I liked that part. Sometimes that works. Most of the time they see right through it though. In this case I’d say you played that card right.” There was an awkward silence. “So how does that work? Do I need to file any paperwork on it? Or does that all get handled through you?” Another awkward silence. The warden cleared his throat and said “I will personally handle it myself.” He stood. “Have a drink and something to eat. When was the last time you had a real steak? I have something to attend to.” The warden and Jeff exchanged nods and then the warden left..

“There are some microwave dinners in the freezer.” Jeff said. “I’m not too hungry.” Redlum replied. Jeff took two beers out of the fridge, opened one and handed it to Redlum. “It will steady your nerves. I lost twenty bucks because of you. Didn’t think you’d puke. But don’t feel bad. It happens.” Redlum took the beer and took a long drink. “Does this get easier?” Redlum asked. Jeff took a beer for himself and sat down. “Yeah. Sadly it does. You get used to doing whatever it takes to get results. Someone up above makes demands. And you find that you can do anything to meet those demands…” A gunshot interrupted.

Redlum looked at Jeff and Jeff just took another drink of his beer. “Whatever it takes.” Jeff said, staring off at the wall. Neither one of them said a word. The warden walked into the kitchen. He opened a cupboard and took down a bottle of scotch and a lowball glass. Jeff stood and walked out of the room. “Before you ask any questions I want to assure you that you did a great job today. I will be writing a glowing report to the home office.” The warden sat down with his glass and took a drink. He took a second to enjoy the taste of the scotch. “And of course when you are debriefed, I expect you will stick to procedure. You answer each question you are asked. And that’s it. Answer each question honestly and concisely but add nothing. You understand what I’m saying, right?”

Redlum could feel tears building. He took a drink of his beer to buy time. He didn’t want to answer until he was sure his voice wouldn’t crack. He also knew he had to answer yes. Something told him that any resistance or outbreak would probably result in one more gunshot and a report saying he was killed by a prisoner trying to escape. “Yes, I understand. “

“Good.” the warden said. The sound of the front door opening and closing caused Redlum to stir in his seat. “Jeff is loading your things. He’ll drive you back to the airport. Have a safe flight, agent.”

As Redlum walked through the living room he could hear water running in the bathroom where the cell door was. And the smell of bleach filled the room.