Our hero knows he’s in serious trouble.
The problem is, there are familiar faces and a question of who is a friend and who is foe made all the more difficult because of the enemy, if it was the enemy, simply because it didn’t look or sound or act like the enemy.
Now, it appears, his problems stem from another operation he participated in.
I could truthfully say I was blinded by the light. Whoever my next visitor was, came in and turned on the lights just about blinding me after the ethereal darkness I’d been in for several hours.
Of course, it had to be Lallo.
“I trust you had an uneventful journey and got plenty of rest.” He seemed to be in what might be called a jovial mood.
Perhaps they were going to let him use his instruments of torture on me now we had arrived. I was sure that the Geneva Convention, if we were still a signatory to it, was left outside the door to this building.
“Well enough. Whose idea was it to put me in casts and make me think I had been severely injured?”
“I doubt that would be of interest to you now. Just be thankful it wasn’t purposely done to you. I had been an option, but Colonel Bamfield apparently has you in mind for a job he needs doing, so we opted for subterfuge. You can thank us later.”
Or not at all. I was right. Bamfield, or they, whoever they were, needed me alive. And in one piece. I was not sure I liked the sound of that.
“No, not at the moment. I’m going to have a chat to the source, you remember me telling you we were bringing him over with us. He was not so lucky as you, as you’ll soon discover. I want you to sit in on the session, I want you to listen and assess what you think about what he tells us.”
“In what capacity?”
“Just listen. I’m told that you have conducted a few interrogations, and have a sense about the target, whether they’re lying or telling the truth. We won’t be using force initially, so let’s hope he opts to tell the truth.”
So did I. The last thing I wanted to see was a messy interrogation. Those I’d been on were relatively simple. A man at the end of a gun usually told the truth or felt a great deal of pain and suffering if he didn’t.
It had never been my favourite job, which is why I’d not done very many, and I had hoped I’d never see Lallo at his worst. Perhaps, then, that was the point of this exercise. They were not finished with me, so he’d make an example out of someone else, letting me know the extent to which he would go, thus making me more co-operative.
A bit pointless, really, because I didn’t know very much. Maybe the Colonel forgot to tell him that.
“There are clothes in the cupboard over there,” he nodded towards the corner of the room where there were two doors. One I figured was the bathroom. “Clean yourself up, get dressed, and let Monroe know when you’re ready. Oh, and take it easy for the first few minutes, the serum we gave you tends to make your legs turn to jelly when you first try to stand up. It’ll pass. Just be careful.”
© Charles Heath 2019