Looking back on things now, how fast we adapted to Caracal's little cave is almost terrifying. Maybe it was because we complied knowing there was a lifeline, the little access to sunlight that made the time fly by, or how disturbing the routine felt to basic. Either way, weeks agonizingly crawled by into months, all blurring together in a dreadful cycle.
Jasmine and I got woken up in increasingly embarrassing ways to work at dawn or dusk in nothing but our underwear and some rags. Whether it be those dreadful cats hammering away at our cells or getting hosed down, we would get dragged out with the other "prisoners."
Despite his earlier confidence, we were the only soldiers Asad ambushed, but not the first victims. On every morning walkout, I had to see the eyes of dozens of runaways, refugees, or broken natives. All of them looked like they had given up. A fate that we refused to accept.
After the depressing walkthrough, we'd get caroled like cattle toward various tasks. Whether it be stitching together their ripped fabric, packaging their drugs, or storing away their kegs of booze, we worked until the next shift came in an 8-hour cycle. Get caught napping, sleeping, stealing, or simply not putting in the effort, and you get met with a penalty that either sends you to sleep hungry, beaten, or worse.
You can only obtain any level of perks by contributing special "favors" involving sex, organ transplant, or snitching on fellow inmates. Unfortunately, under Asad's rule, these factors ran with peak efficiency, making a measly 30 soldiers seem like a hundred, thus creating an impressive operation that boiled into a solid stew of bad.
Despite his rare appearances inside the base, his presence was felt everywhere. Yet, despite all these challenges, Jasmine somehow never seemed to fail me. Whether gathering a new valuable piece of info or scavenging a helpful tool, she always brings another glimmer of hope, especially during our nightly brainstorms.
"So what does the thing look like again? We only get one shot at this," I said blatantly.
"It's a beacon, about the size of a small medal. It's a pretty thin and squared shape. All you have to do is enter a six-digit code forwards and backward, and a small button should open up, and all you have to do is press it for exactly three seconds, nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully, the whole thing should still be in the thick-covered journal I kept it in, along with my secret stash of rations. We need to find where they kept it, if at all," Jasmine said hurriedly.
"It's in Asad's trophy room," I replied confidently.
"We still don't know if that's 100% true. Or when he would even be available."
"I've heard enough of their banter to know they have one. They practically salivate over it when Asad's on his long treks. It's more than that, though."
"What do you mean more" Jasmine questioned.
"You didn't have the best perception back then, but the way Asad talked to me was intentional. He deliberately shoved that body on me, made his grand entrance heard, and looked me dead in the eyes while he strangled you. It wasn't about some simple interrogation. That bastard wanted me to be afraid, to know he was in control. He would want us to see our possessions from a cage," I said, shakingly balling up my fists.
Jasmine then immediately grabbed my hand and reassured me/
"It's a valid deduction Sarah, the type only the smartest person I know could make. But as you said before, we only get one shot. Maybe if we can wait another week or two, maybe-"
"It's been six months already, Jasmine! How much longer do you expect me to wait?!"
Surprised, Jasmine furrowed her brow as I followed up.
"I see his face every time I sleep. His smile haunts me until I wake up. And when I do and see your face, I remind myself again that it's my fault we're here in the first place. Because I was too scared and weak," I say with tears.
Jasmine then softened again, immediately holding my hand.
"I've been in worse scrapes than this. Enough to make this dungeon look quaint. The only reason I ever survived them was to go with the flow. Accept that in this whole wide world, I can do very little. But, given how much you worry, there is no time like the present. Sarah, I don't blame you for what you did, it's a fucked up situation, but I'm glad you're with me," she said somberly.
Through my tears, Jasmine comforted me further as she slyly stated.
"Hey, when we get out of here. What are you going to?" she said happily.
"You ask this every night,"
"The first thing I'd do is go to a spa. I used to hate going there, but it's looking immaculate now. Then you know, I'll hit up some Korean BBQ right after since whatever slop they have here is not cutting it. Next, my inner cinephile says we watch every bad rom-com movie we've missed. From there-," she said while trailing off.
At that point, she kept going on, listing her favorite things. It was the best lullaby I could ask for. Eventually, I fell asleep in silent admiration for the strength I could never have. I wouldn't be the Paladin if I could've forgiven and moved on. So while my body lulled to sleep, my mind raced, obsessing over the weakness Asad pulled out. Something that I would spend the rest of my life covering up.
Days later, I stuck to Jasmine's advice, surveying the area for two weeks until we better understood what surrounded the trophy room. During each turn of our 8-hour shift, we passed through a different row of prison cells into a similar-looking workstation. Through that, I could memorize the number and ratio of Caracals to prisoners and specific patterns.
How in the sewing station, not only were we closest to the room, but security was most relaxed, leaving an opening that we took full advantage of. During our 8-hour shift, we get a thirty-minute recess in the middle to get us some rest and "relieve" ourselves, usually accompanied by a single guard.
An opportunity Jasmine decided to take, along with several other prisoners. Leaving me to wait for a few minutes, prepping myself for the most challenging part of the plan. Amidst my exhausted frame, a cool sweat formed around me, waiting for the fateful pin to drop. One slip-up could kill us both.
Before I went crazy with anticipation, Jasmine finally proceeded with her part of the plan. From personal experience having Jasmine in range of alcohol was a bad idea. It activates her inner arsonist. Judging from what little Arabic I knew and the bright flashes I saw, she must have gotten a good blaze going. Instantly the seven guards watching us shrunk down to two.
And amid so many rapidly switching bodies, I took my chance. While it was a far cry from my current covert escapades, Jasmine and Asad proved to be great foundations in stealth. With slippery speed and subtlety in this pinnacle moment, I deadened all forms of my presence, constricting any unnecessary movement to snatch my lifesaver.
The Caracals favor speed and efficiency above all else to keep this machine running, meaning every member has had keys to every cell and room on their satchel till now. From there, I didn't waste a second more, vanishing amongst the crowd to make my way toward Asad's trophy room. Frantically I raced across the hallways, slightly delighted at the first taste of freedom I'd had in months.
Which only fueled my desperate sprint until I hit my destination, signaled by the large steel door. I shuffled through the seemingly endless amount of keys, trying each one out and failing. Finally, upon the seventh failure, I practically wanted to unleash every curse word I had, only to succeed upon the eighth try. My heart went up as I saw our potential ticket home creak open. Only to that have my glimmer of hope snuffed out.