Spy Trade by Dunn Matthew

Author:Dunn, Matthew [Dunn, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Contemporary Fiction, Thrillers & Suspense, Spies & Politics, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), Espionage, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Witness Impulse
Published: 2015-08-04T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Just one mouthful of the gruel made Ramzi spit it out, and exclaim, “What is that?”

The jihadist who was crouching before him and attempting to feed the insipid white food to his prisoner was the short yet broad-shouldered deputy of the six-man Chechen unit. He smashed the bowl into Ramzi’s face, covering it with globules.

In the far corner of the room, Bob Oakland thrashed against his bonds and chain. “Please don’t! He didn’t mean it! Please, I beg you!”

The jihadist was silent as he unclipped the translator’s neck chain from its lock on the wall, and dragged Ramzi to his feet. The Jordanian was shaking his head furiously, trying to get the soup out of his eyes and mouth. “I’m sorry! So sorry. I didn’t mean . . .”

The Chechen yanked the chain, forcing Ramzi’s bound ankles to move his feet in an inch-by-inch shuffle across the dead room. Ramzi was crying, moaning in despair, and kept looking at Bob. “Mr. Oakland. Say something clever. Make them stop. I beg you.”

But Bob had no clever words, only ones that instead would have made him sound like a groveling beggar, his pleas being trampled on by men who viewed him as pathetic for stooping so low. “Be strong, Ramzi,” was all he could think to say though he meant every word.

When the guard and prisoner were out of the room, and the door was slammed shut, Oakland lowered his head and prayed to God, asking him to be merciful and put a bullet in Ramzi’s brain. He’d never prayed before. But this was important; he thought God might listen even though Bob had been rude enough not to reach out to him before. He looked at the ropes that were lashed around his ankles. They’d cut into his skin so regularly that he was sure his legs would carry permanent reminders of his bonds. If he survived his ordeal of imprisonment, he’d have another story to tell, he thought. Did I tell you how I got all these scars? Yes, Grandpa, a thousand times. Wanna hear it again? Yes please!

Ramzi’s screams and shouts were unmistakable from the room next door. There was banging, most likely from his head being smashed against the wall. It had happened so many times to both prisoners. But there were also knives, other instruments, and a bucket in that room. So far they’d not been used. But so far Ramzi and Bob had done everything the guards had told them to do.

A fly landed on the rope wounds on his legs. He tried to shake the fly off, but it kept landing back on his flesh. “Don’t lay eggs,” said Bob to the fly. “Please. Don’t lay eggs in there.”

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