Part I:
Eddie
“Do not engage an enemy more powerful than you. And if it is unavoidable and you do have to engage, then make sure you engage it on your terms, not on your enemy’s terms.”
– Sun Tzu
Chapter One
Now
“We know who you are.”
Based on the sound of his voice and where it’s coming from, I assume the man is standing on the other side of the table from me. He’s probably around my size, maybe an inch or so in either direction of my own six-foot frame.
Although, from the feel of the table, the way it gives and wobbles under me when I lean on it with enough weight to test it, it’s probably some old Soviet-era military surplus metal folding table and not something more substantive, like an interview table in a police station, or in a military base holding cell.
Or a metal butcher’s worktable.
Hey, you’d be surprised how many human bodies get disposed of with a batch of ground beef or sausage. The forensics alone would be a nightmare to untangle, if you even could.
But I digress. He was talking to me. And the acoustics in this room make it sound like it’s too small to be the back of a butcher’s shop in some tiny Hungarian town. That, and while chilly, it’s still a little too warm to be located in a working butcher’s shop.
I lick my split lips. “Do you, now?” I can’t see him. Even if it wasn’t for the hood I’m wearing, both my eyes are nearly swollen shut underneath it from the face punches I received during the struggle when I was first captured and the subsequent initial interrogation session. My left shoulder’s also fucked up, likely dislocated by the fuckers when they grabbed me.
He chuckles. I hear the sound of something flat and plastic being set on the table and I assume it’s a tablet. Top Secret folders dripping with paper dossiers are passé, I suppose. But you could slam those fuckers down on a table for a little emphasis.
You do that to a tablet, you’ll break it.
“The world has moved on and no one gives a shit about you being here,” he says. “Why are you fighting so hard?”
“Maybe I have a death wish.”
“I believe that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.”
He’s right. “Bored with me yet?”
“Nah.” I hear a chair slide out across from me, its metal legs scraping along what sounds like a bare concrete floor.
I can’t move because I’m securely manacled to my sturdy metal chair. Not a folding chair I could possibly break free from. Plus, whoever chained me up knew what they were doing, weaving my restraints through the frame and criss-crossing them to allow me minimal movement. I don’t know who did that, because I’d already been knocked out at that point with what I think was chloroform, or maybe isoflurane, or something like that. I awakened slumped over the table before me, with no idea how long I’d been out, or what other drugs they might have dosed me with after I lost consciousness.
This was after I’d been snatched, dumped in the back of a van, beaten, transported…
You get the idea. I’ve had better days.
I’m not even sure how long it’s been since they grabbed me. I’m still alive, so likely less than a day. It’s been at least twelve hours, I think, but it’s difficult to say with the hood completely shrouding me in muffled darkness. I have a hell of a headache. I don’t know if that’s because of the inhalant they used, or subsequent drugs they dosed me with, or the beating I took. Or, maybe a combination.
I could really use a cheeseburger, though. Fuck my life for skipping breakfast.
At least I haven’t pissed myself yet, and no breakfast means I’m not close to shitting myself, so yay,winning.
I think there’s at least three of them, total. I heard Russian spoken at one point. This man is doing most of the talking, and the only one I’ve heard speak English. He does so with an American accent. Definitely not a Northeastern accent, and too soft of a drawl to be deeply Southern. He’s from Virginia or that region, if I had to guess. His accent sounds very familiar.
Quickly, I shove away the reason I would think that, because that’s not helpful.
I’m assuming he doesn’t know I speak fluent Russian.
“How’s your face?” he asks.
