The following takes place between 1600 hours and 1618 hours.
[FONT=Courier New]Location: Somalia, Kismayo.
AL SHABAAB BUNKER CELL.[/FONT]
“Ingine!”
The object struck the side of Jack’s skull again and once more the air acquired a familiar scent, that of omelettes and roasted maize mixed with his mother’s old perfume. He let out what was left of his breath and began panting as a hot fluid burnt a trail down his now sore cheeks, that last strike had opened him up.
“Matosha iyo!”
Jack’s eyes opened slowly as he squinted against the light. He saw the outline of four men but felt the presence of several others who watched him from the dark corners of the room. The one in front of him had been the one directing the interrogation. Still unable to make out any facial features he finally came to terms that these men were just shadows that could hurt him.
“Now, now, Agent Mwanzia. This can all be over when you want it to. Jibu maswali yetu tayari.”
“I like chapatis, Wild West movies, long walks along a beach and your mother,” Jack’s lip twitched into a slanted grin as he spoke. “That’s all I have to tell you.”
The interrogator sighed and looked down at Jack. He waved his hand to one side, motioning for whoever was on his right to strike the captive again. Jack’s head snapped to one side as the baton hit its target. More blood flowed from the wound and he could now feel bile forming in his mouth.
“Come now, my friend. Why were you in Ras Kamboni, hm?”
“I’m a fan of camels, dry air and miraa . Have you tried it?” Jack spat out some of the blood in his mouth.
Again, the man waved and the captive was hit. Jack winced a moment, his eyes closing tight. But through the pain all he could do was laugh. With his eyes closed he hung his head, laughing. He lifted his head up and cocked it to look at his assailant.
“I bet your mother could hit me harder,” Jack spoke to the man amidst coughs and bile spilling from his mouth.
Without the motion, he felt the blunt object dig deeper into the pulsating wound. The room began spinning and sparks erupted in a fierce display before his eyes. Jack inhaled deeply and hung his head again, breathing heavily.
“If you keep this up you’re going to die here, Agent. Najua iyo?”
Jack, looked up to his captor with one opened eye, the other swollen shut and bleeding from the side. The pain had increased tenfold but Jack did his best to smile up at the man. He nodded once and looked down. A red dot next to the man’s foot caught his attention. It moved, so did Jack’s eye. It jumped up the captor’s leg, the agent followed it up until it rested on the man’s cheek. Jack sat up as straight as he could and adjusted himself as best as he could while being tied to the chair.
“Utaenda kwanza.”
The men around him burst into laughter. The leader put his hand over his mouth to muffle his own laughing. Jack could tell that the man was still staring at him, mostly with interest and curiosity. The captor raised his hand at the guy, waiting to give the command to strike Jack.
“Eh, and how do you figure this, Agent Mwanzia?” The man chuckled lightly.
“Because,” Jack grinned at his captor. “You have a Altec Gauss XRL 1700 rifle pointed at your head.”
The last sight Jack saw was the man’s eyes growing wide just before his jaw exploded, his head twisting and eventually falling to floor. Before anyone else could respond two other men fell before their captain’s body could hit the ground. Jack closed his eyes as the firing echoed loudly around him.
Pop, pop. One of the men were knocked off of their feet and slammed into the guy behind him. Pop, pop. Both took a shot before hitting the ground. The men fired back, but Jack knew they couldn’t see where the shots were being taken from. An explosion was heard far off followed by some screaming. Pop, pop. Double tapped, another of the guards dropped.
His head pounded ferociously with each snap of a firearm, mostly due to the men in front of him firing into the darkness. Jack opened his eye just in time to see a hands grab the last two men and pull them in to the blackened corners of his vision. Silence followed for what seemed like ages before something caught Jack’s ears.
Footsteps. He heard each of the steps as they hit the metal grating lightly. He heard them as they descended the stairs at the end of the hall and grew closer to him. All at once they stopped just in front of him. The light kept him blinded and only the outline of the new arrival could be seen. The person leaned forward and looked down at him. Jack felt a shock go through his face as his swollen eye was flicked.
“Damn, Agent Jack Mbauwa, you look like hell.”
“I’ve been there.”