by Gerry, Frank
Goodman shifted his attention back to Dylan, “The important thing is for you to be completely honest with us.” Agent Wilson grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge in the corner of the conference room, handing it to Dylan. He took a sip, then a gulp, before continuing with his answer. “No I didn't have sex with her. I have to admit I wanted to. But I didn't.” Goodman's lie detector again reported Dylan was telling the truth.
The thought of Tien now repulsed Dylan, That lying, manipulating whore.
Goodman expanded his questioning. “OK, good. The point of the question was to determine how compromised you may have become. The important question I need you to answer is how did you feel about her now?” Dylan drank more water, gulping down almost the entire bottle. He took his time answering, pausing for perhaps fifteen seconds. “I have to admit I was ......, I kinda fell for her. She's beautiful, intelligent. I mean she was hot and I thought she was really into me. Who wouldn't have fallen for a slice like her.” Dylan looked over at the women officers in the room, “I ….. I mean attractive woman.” The female DHS officers didn't seem to care, simply nodding their heads to acknowledge his answer.
Goodman pressed for his original question again, “How do you feel about her now?” Dylan hesitated, the flood of emotions he was attempting to suppress in front of these people could no longer be held back. He pushed his chair back and raised his voice, “How do you think I feel. I feel fucking betrayed, used, pissed off. I thought she fuck'in liked me.” Goodman fought to contain his smile. He was satisfied, the lie detector reporting exactly what he wanted to know.
Dylan pushed his chair towards the conference table and leaned forward. He placed his elbows on the table, and covered his face with both hands. Senior Agent Rivera spoke next. “Your life is going to change today, Dylan. With your help we are going to crush the terrorist command structure in one fell swoop. As of right now, you are promoted to a field agent with a rank of captain. You're drafted out of necessity to execute a plan developed by Agent Goodman.” Dylan straightened himself up in the chair and turned to Rivera, “Plan, Field Agent, Captain. Are you fucking kidding me? I'm sorry. I mean are you kidding me? I'm not an agent. I'm an engineer. I know how to write code, implement software applications. Now you want me to be a field agent fighting terrorists? I don't know the first thing about being an agent.”
It was Goodman's turn to speak. He was prepared for such a response. “Dylan when I met with you a few weeks ago I knew you had what it takes. I saw the kind of man you were. You are a loyal American. And just as importantly you have the balls that are needed to do your duty no matter what. You just don't realize it yet.”
Dylan didn't know what to think. His mind went blank.
Agent Wilson tapped on her keyboard and produced a presentation that appeared on everyone's display. “Before Senior Agent Goodman describes his plan. I'd like to discuss the background a little.” Wilson presented the details of the brain washing techniques used by the terrorists to protect their command structure. “The terrorists use a verbal password that restores their memories. Like when you see a hypnotist onstage and he says a word to bring them out of their hypnosis. Without that password, there's no way we can get any information out of them.”
Senior Agent Rivera noticed how Dylan was fading fast from the overload of information. She stopped Wilson from continuing any further. “I think Dylan needs to take a break. Not to mention some coffee, as well. Let's take fifteen minutes, shall we?”
SEVENTEEN
“OK, lets get going. We've got a busy day ahead of us,” Goodman said. All of the officers were by then back in the conference room. “Please turn your attention to your computer screens,” he ordered. Cups of coffee sat on the table in front of each person. Senior Agent Riviera spoke to Dylan, “This is going to be difficult for you watch. But there's no way around it. You have to bear with us.” Even with just having a break and getting some coffee, Dylan's head continued to spin. Riviera's words only made him more apprehensive.
The computer screens on the conference table began displaying video. A dozen police cars with their lights flashing blocked the street in front of a high rise office building. National Guard soldiers with assault rifles lined the road. The video zoomed in at Tien-Mu as she was being escorted out of the building by a half dozen Homeland Security Agents. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back. Tien, her name jumped into Dylan's head as he watched. He maintained a poker face, not wanting to display emotions of any kind. Finally, the video showed the Agents pushing her into one of the police cruisers and being whisked away.
“At zero eight hundred hours this morning, the terrorist cell commander named Tien-Mu Chang, the subject we had been previously discussing, was taken into custody and brought here to one of the detention centers,” Agent Goodman said. The two DHS Detectives at the far end of the table talked to one another in a hushed, private conversation. Goodman began describing his plan to the group, “As we know, and how we just started explaining to our new captain here, standard interrogation techniques are useless with terrorists due to their hypnosis techniques. Therefore, we're going to try something very different. And very unorthodox.”
All of the DHS Agents knew the plan, having previously discussed and approved it. The discussion now was for Dylan's benefit, as well as for the Detectives attending the meeting. Goodman went on, “The plan is fairly simple in it's concept. Dylan, Tien-Mu Chang knows you work here. You're going to break her out of the detention center and convince her you are on her side. Or at least convince her you're not working for Homeland Security.” “What!” Dylan began to protest. Though before he could say he'd never be able to pull off such a scheme, Goodman raised his hand to stop him from saying another word. He continued describing the details of the plan. “The prisoner will be taken to an interrogation chamber by Senior Detective Friedman where his interrogation beatings will begin.” Dylan picked up on the word, beatings.
“At that point,” Goodman explained, “the plan is to have Dylan enter the interrogation chamber, flash an DHS Agent badge along with official papers, and stop the procedure. It will all be choreographed to give the impression that Dylan has risked everything by stealing the badge and paperwork in order to save the woman 'he loves'. Dylan and the prisoner will then escape from the building and go into hiding. All the while we'll have tracking devices embedded in the subject's clothing. Dylan will also carry a transmitter.”
Dylan looked around the room. All eyes were upon him. Everything seemed surreal. It was all happening too fast. He doubted he could do what they asked. Think, goddammit think, raced though his head while looking around at the officers in the room. He finally managed to speak, “This won't work. For starters how could I convince Tien that I could stand up to him?” Dylan pointed to Friedman. “This guy looks like he wouldn't take shit from anyone. He looks like I could point a machine gun in his face and he wouldn't blink.”
Friedman let out a haughty laugh. The other officers joined in with the laughter. Goodman raised his voice to speak over the group, “That's for sure. Detective Friedman is one mean motherfucker. But, you are going to stand up to him. You're going to do it by being firm and pretending to pull rank. This is all going to be acting. He'll be acting just as you will be.” Senior Agent Riviera cut in, “Keep in mind Dylan, you are an officer now. You are expected to carry out your duties as a military officer to the best of your abilities.”
I am so fucked, Dylan thought to himself. “Yes, Ma'am.” He portrayed a dead serious appearance.
Senior Detective Friedman leaned back in his seat, put his hands behind his head, and smiled at Detective Perez before speaking, “Otherwise, we're going to make her scream in unimaginable agony while we get the information out of her our way. And that won't be pretend. We may only get the info on her terror cell. But that's good enough for us. Maybe not for Agent Goodman. So it's your choice my friend.” Friedman starred at Dylan with an evil smirk that told him he meant every word.
&n
bsp; Agent Goodman continued, “Dylan the next part of the plan is the most important. After your escape, you have to stay with her. You must convince her you have thrown everything away in order to save her. That there's no going back for you. You'll have to figure out how to best convince her of this. You'll have to appear genuine. You'll have to appear vulnerable. We'll go over all of the details as we get you prepared for the mission. The point is, she's going to need to return to base, find a safe house, or notify her command. In order for her to do that she'll need to get the coded password to re-acquire her memories. That's why you have to stay with her long enough for her to get that password. Once she does, you'll initiate your tracking device immediately. We'll be there within minutes. After she has regained her memory we can break her during interrogation and crush the terrorist command structure in this region.”
All of the officers in the conference room could see Dylan's face was white as a sheet. Several thought to themselves the young man was going to either faint or vomit. Goodman spoke again, “We need an answer now Dylan. Will you help us? I can order you to carry out this mission as I would normally order any officer. But we need you to willingly want to help us. Your ability to convince the subject of your sincerity in helping her escape is the most important aspect of the mission.”
Dylan looked around the room. He took the last sip of the lukewarm coffee in his mug. Senior Agent Riviera chimed in, “You can save a lot of lives, Dylan. And crush these terrorists now before things get out of hand. If you don't, you leave us no choice but to employ our normal interrogation techniques with the Senior Detective here.” Dylan looked at Friedman. He struggled to find the right words. Nothing would congeal in his brain. Forced to come up with something, he dispensed with the decorum expected for an officer of his rank, and just blurted out what was in head. “This is so fucked up! I came in to work this morning thinking how much of a shitty day it was. Now I find everything is even worse than I could have ever fucking imagined.” Everyone in the room remained silent, their eyes fixed on him, awaiting his answer.
Dylan rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, then slid his hands behind his head to message the back of his neck. He needed time to think, but knew he had none. In that instant he also realized the moment Goodman asked him to participate in the mission, he never had a choice. The seconds ticked by. He just needed time to wrestle with everything he was being hit with. “Yes, I'll help you,” Dylan finally said. Then added, “I'll do the best I can. But I have to say up front that I have a lot of doubts I can pull this off.”
Goodman smiled and talked reassuringly, “Dylan, we're going to go over everything you need to accomplish this mission. Any problems you have, we'll figure them out. We know you have the smarts to improvise with the plan. You'll be fine.”
“OK then. So, when do we start?” Dylan asked earnestly. Goodman smiled, much broader this time, “We start right now. You'll go with Greene and Friedman. They'll start your training. I'll stop by at noon. We'll have a quick lunch and continue your briefing. Time is of the essence. This afternoon you'll have a practice run, then we go for the real thing at sixteen hundred hours.”
Senior Agent Riviera concluded the meeting, “Welcome to the team Agent Fraser. Don't worry about any of your current assignments. I'll contact your manager and inform her that you've been re-assigned. And who knows maybe you'll enjoy field work. I bet you'll make a great Agent someday.”
Everyone stood from their seats and started to leave. Friedman approached Dylan and slapped him on the back, “A machine gun to my face, huh. That's a good one. Though, ya know, I think we can use that. If you pull a sidearm on me, I think that would be completely believable. Let's talk about using that during your training.”
EIGHTEEN
A Homeland Security soldier, with a short barreled machine rifle slung across his chest, opened the steel door to the second floor holding cell in Building 6. He entered the cell first, clutching the rifle, his finger on the trigger. He was followed by Detective Perez and two additional soldiers. Inside the cell, Tien sat on a rusty metal bench with her back against a bare cinder block wall. Her legs were crossed, with her hands lying on her lap, still handcuffed. She was a bit disheveled, her hair messed up and in tangles. But was otherwise unharmed.
Tien looked up at the black uniformed woman with defiance.
“Get up bitch, we're taking a walk,” Detective Perez ordered forcefully. Tien slowly stood up and looked at Perez, “I thought they'd send some tough guy Agent. Instead I see they sent a lowlife dike bitch.” Detective Perez smiled. She was unfazed by the insults. She had interrogated so many terrorists, she was used to that kind of bravado. Besides, this prisoner was the most important of her career. She knew if she handled things well she would be in line for the next available Senior Detective position.
“In a little while, we're going to see just exactly who the bitch really is,” Perez said in a calm, slightly sadistic voice. She issued orders for the men to take her. Two of the soldiers grabbed Tien, one on each arm, and dragged her out of the holding cell. They managed to carry her down a maze of underground corridors, until finally entering the dimly lit Interrogation Room 4. A single spotlight shone down from the center of the ceiling. Detective Perez closed the steel door as she followed behind.
“Tie her the usual fashion,” Perez ordered. The soldiers remove her handcuffs and attached leather straps to her wrists and ankles, connecting the straps to rings at the end of chains hanging from the ceiling or bolted onto the floor. “Fuck all of you,” Tien swore while struggling with her chains to no avail. When the soldiers were finished, she stood standing in the center of the room, her arms above her head, her legs spread apart.
Perez inspected the bonds carefully. “Good job men. You may leave,” she said after being satisfied the prisoner was secure. She walked slowly in a circle around Tien, not saying a word at first. She caressed the prisoner with her left hand as she circled in a counter clockwise movement. Perez stopped and leaned forward, grabbing one of Tien's breasts. She spoke slowly and menacingly, “I have to admit. I'm hoping you won't be cooperative. It's been a while since we're had a prisoner as pretty as you.”
“Fuck you,” was all that Tien could manage to say. She struggled again with her chains, pushing her head as far away from Perez as she could. The detective walked behind her prisoner, softly putting her hands on Tien's neck. “You should know, the Senior Detective is one truly twisted motherfucker. Personally, I think the man is a psychopath. I've gotten sick seeing the things he's done. And that's saying a lot. Because you should see the things I like to do to pretty young things like you. Oh wait you will,” Perez said with a short laugh. Tien said nothing, looking away from her tormentor as best she could. She couldn't tell if it was all an act or the detective was truly sick.
“Your fate is in your own hands now. We'll be starting in a little while. I suggest you think about it while you wait,” Perez said. She walked away and left the the interrogation chamber, leaving Tien tied with the spotlight shinning directly overhead. She could not see into the darkness beyond the cone of light engulfing her. The chamber was eerily silent between the sounds of the chains being struggled with. After ten minutes, the room began to spin.
NINETEEN
It was ten minutes past four o'clock. Dylan Fraser stood outside the door to Interrogation Room 4. His heart was pounding fast and he was having difficulty breathing. He was leaning forward against the concrete wall, using both arms to hold himself up. Agent Greene stood next to him, having just finished speaking with Agent Goodman on his v-phone. “One minute to show time, Agent Fraser. Everything is a go. Friedman and Perez have already started their interrogation.”
Dylan nodded to Agent Greene, letting him know he was ready, then took a deep breath. “Thanks for all your help, Agent,” Dylan said, for the fourth time that afternoon. The plan had changed during the preparations for the charade. Dylan had convinced Goodman the best course would be for an Agent to accompany
him to stop the interrogation. The reason being, it would be more believable if Dylan had got help from a friend who was a senior officer. She would never believe a software engineer, by himself, could barge in and overrule DHS Detectives. Agent Greene was the man chosen to go in with Dylan.
“OK, gentlemen, proceed!” Goodman issued his orders over the video phone. Greene acknowledged the command and put the v-phone into his back pocket. He turned to Dylan, “Ready?” “Let's do it,” Dylan responded, trying to pump himself up. His stomach felt like it was full of lead. He thought he was going to get sick and vomit before he made it past the doorway.
Dylan forced himself to open the steel door. He entered first, walked in as normal as he could, then picked up his pace as soon as he saw the scene. Tien was tied spread eagled, her blouse ripped open. She was being beaten with a rubber baton by the woman, Detective Perez, introduced to him in the conference room that morning. An unknown male Detective also holding a baton stood behind her. Dylan yelled almost frantically, “Stop!” Greene rushed to keep up with him.
“Who the fuck are you?” Senior Detective Friedman yelled. Detective Perez stopped beating her prisoner on queue. A look of complete surprise come across Tien's face. “I'm Agent Dylan Fraser. Agent Greene here and myself are taking custody of this prisoner immediately.”
Friedman laughed out loud as if to say 'fuck you'. He thought Dylan was perfect so far. Friedman reached over and took a look at Dylan's ID badge. “You think so? Well, Mister Dylan Fraser it says here you're just a whiney, piece of shit Captain. You have no authority to remove this prisoner that I am in the middle of interrogating.”
Agent Greene brushed past Dylan to face off against Friedman. Giving a forceful performance, Greene stared into Friedman's eye's without blinking, “It's my authority that we're taking this prisoner. It's come to my attention that there could be a mistake in taking this woman into custody. We are going to take over until we can determine the facts.” Friedman, acting incensed, yelled back, “The fuck you are! You have no authority here! Get the fuck out of here before my associates and I pummel the both of you.”