Salman's POV
Things were going pretty smoothly until he came in. Most of the files had been shared via my computer to the army's network, without any disruptions and raising any suspicions from people other than myself in the department, since I spent a good amount of time on the firewall for protection as well as the setup script to relay the data, without any disruption. Only a few files were left, and they seemed to be the most important ones with all the steps of security required to open them. Still I managed to crack the code, and access the files, but I did not share them back home because I did not yet have a good enough look at them, and sharing such intel over the private network could prove to be a great risk, so I saved them on my computer instead and transferred them to a USB for later use.
However, it was nothing compared to the feat I pulled next.
I broke down their firewall of their network and so that it became part of the world wide web, and accessible by other networks. This wasn't part of the plan, and the deed was quite spontaneous but in that moment I felt it was my duty to expose the heart of the criminal body, and the birthplace of terrorist organizations. The right people with the right resources, who know where to look for information, will get ahold of the data and use it for their protection while the wrong ones will be afraid, for perhaps the first time, even if it's for a little while. All I could do was provide the people with the truth; what they chose to do with it, depended on them entirely.
I managed to retrieve the smaller files without lowering the protection of my computer, but the larger files proved to be more of a problem. In the end, I had to relent, and removed the firewall, downloaded the files on a USB, while removing any traces of the files on my laptop after the download was completed, since it was now part of the network and a security breach had been detected. It was only a matter of time before I would get caught, so I had to ensure the safety of the data I had collected and at least remove any sign of criminal offense that would come handy against me.
The security team found the identity of my device that was responsible for the attempted security breach but couldn't find any evidence upon inspection, as was expected. Two soldiers in white uniform came into the room, the soldiers of higher rank and office that Arina and Amin were part of, and led me through the corridors and into the part of the base that I visited earlier.
However, they did not take the back door which I went through but this was a more direct passage taken through the security department. We were about to set foot in the prison area, through a door with a glass square, showing familiar settings with the annoying bright lights and blue tiles that plastered the floor and walls, but stopped upon hearing a familiar voice.
"Where are you taking him?," Rick inquired in an authoritative tone.
"Boss told us to place him with the rest of the prisoners until we figure out what to do with him," the female soldier replied, her gloved hand gripping my bicep.
"We can manage a friendly question and answer session before we do just that, eh pretty boy?" He spoke to me directly with a bemused smile on his lips, his head tilted on his shoulders, and a look in his eyes that told me the encounter was going to be anything, but friendly.
"Mother said-"
"I said, I'll take it from here, Caleela" he took a dominant step towards me, leaving no room for argument, making my breeches smaller for me by the second. I stopped myself from leaning into him, as the soldiers finally relented and released me, leaving me at his mercy.
He led me in the opposite direction, into a room that didn't hold much furniture, except for a table, a chair and a pile of stuff in the corner, including an upturned wooden box, a rope and other things I couldn't make out due to the absence of light in the room save for the bright bulb hanging above the table. This was most probably the interrogation room, and I wondered how long I could hold up under the pressure before I cracked down and gave him the answers. I hoped that someone would find me before that or all would go in vain, I thought as he made me sit down on the chair, and went to fetch the rope from the box, making a loop around his hand and elbow, his eyes never leaving my body, like a predator watching its prey, when it knows it has got them cornered.
I didn't put up a fight, not once in the whole encounter, and allowed him to manhandle me He was angry, I could see that, as he came up to me, and roughly pulled my arms behind my back and began to wound the rope around my wrists, before moving onto my torso.
"You know," I began, uselessly. "Your Mother wouldn't approve of this treatment once she learns I am the only one who is able to fix the error in the system."
"She would once she learns you were the one to put it there in the first place and your purpose behind it." He fixed the rope in a tight knot, behind my back, so that I was virtually immovable with the chair attached to me.
"Now, tell me," he said, crossing his arms, the muscles in his arms flexing. "Why are you here, Simon Andrews? And on whose authority?"
I huffed in response.
" You would know Ricky guy, when you excel at your skill, you're under no authority, except that of yourself," I looked him in the eye and managed to smile. He looked particularly alluring in the dim light, with the forest green button up shirt that brought out the green of his eyes, and a few buttons that were left unbuttoned showed his toned chest. "Restricting yourself to an entity or organization either means you're not good enough or you're a coward."
A muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyes narrowed disapprovingly on the statement I just made. "How about you cut the crap and get straight to the point?" He made his way around the table, his calloused fingers trailing over its surface, in a threatening, almost sensual manner, enough to make my mind play games on me as I imagined my skin under his touch instead of the table. "We wouldn't want to get into trouble now, would we?" He leaned in as he spoke, his voice a little above a whisper.
He's about to beat the shit out of you, you desperate bitch.
"What if I told you, I fancy it?"
"Iw would say that you're a fucking idiot!" He shouted, grabbing my hair and slamming my head on the table by the side.
"Now tell me, who do you work for?" His hand was still fisted in my hair, as he raised my head and hit it against the table once again."Who did you share the data with?"
He repeated the process thrice, with more force each time.
"Speak!"
My head was spinning now, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
"If I wasn't any wiser, I would say you're avoiding hitting my features," I said, breathless, trying to focus and keep him distracted in nonsense.
He pulled me back, settled the chair so that I was facing him directly and he had full access to my body. He hit me in the stomach several times, and threw a last blow on my face, before he grabbed me by the collar and pulled me towards him, so that our faces were merely inches apart.
"Answer the damn question!" He roared in my face. Beneath the anger and frustration, I could see pain in his eyes. Or maybe I was delusional and liked to elude myself in the illusion that hurting me had hurt him. He was the enemy, I had to remind myself and one should not expect empathy from them. My eyes began to water, out of emotional or physical pain, I could not tell. I turned my head, spitting the blood out of my mouth to avoid looking him in the eye in this moment of weakness.
"What is your purpose? What are you doing here? Tell me!" He threw a punch at me with each question he asked me, but would only be greeted with silence in response, however I didn't know for how long this would be the case. If he delivered me a knockout punch, I could be saved from this pain and give into darkness willingly.
"I don't think you are going to listen like this."
"You think?" I said sarcastically, after a fit of coughs, my mouth was full of blood. My sarcasm ebbed away at the sight of the dagger glinting in the dim light, he held up in his hand, toying with it nonchalantly.
He wouldn't kill me, would he?
"I think that's quite enough for today," I heard the voice of female guard who held me earlier.
Rick paused and turned towards her, breathing heavily and his bloody fists still raised, fixing her with a murderous glare.
"And who made you in charge?"
"The Mother," she replied with the same coldness. "Incase you haven't noticed I am of a higher rank than you are."
"The ranks in this base are set according to the level of trust Mother has on each of us. So whose word do you think matters here?"
"The only word that matters here is the Mother's, the orders of whom I directly carry and deliver," sha said in a almost robotic voice. "I think it is quite clear who the Mother trusts more, judging by our positions and the time we have been blessed to spend in her presence. It would be wise for you know your place, and take heed of my orders before taking on a challenge you know you wouldn't be able to complete."
"Place him with the hostage in the quarters prior to the prison area. We need him alive, since our security team might need some help to fix whatever glitch we are encountering within the system. Until then, we need him unharmed."
"The Mother has also been wanting to meet you, so make sure you're there by eight.","she said turning away. She paused in the doorway and looked back, to address him once more. "I hope I have made myself clear, Rick. You wouldn't want to upset the Mother, now would you?"
The air in the room shifted imperceptibly as she left, where I could see his cold resolve changing to that of defeat. His broad shoulders were slumped, as he sat on the chair on the opposite side of the table, rubbed his face and put a hand beneath his chin, letting out a tired sigh.
He glanced at me, before he allowed his sight to roam around, lingering on the wounds he inflicted on me, with a slightly guilty look that he quickly masked with a sour expression. He got up and walked in the dim light; my vision had got too hazy to make out his silhouette so the only way I could guess where he was or what he was doing, was by the sound of his receding footsteps. I heard the tinkling of water, before I saw him bringing me a glass of water.
"Drink it," he said softly, holding it in front of me. I was astonished by the change in behavior and seemed to witness a whole new personality in front of me. I was tempted to take a sip, before stopping and glanced up at him, again.
"What's the matter?"
"You sure aren't trying to poison me with your urine, Ricky boy?"
"I didn't need to pee in a glass to do that. You would have swallowed it quite willingly, yourself," he said with a smirk. I gave him a poisonous look as my cheeks burned once I realized what he meant. "Now, drink up before I change my mind."
I put my lips against the glass and allowed the cool liquid to make its way down my throat, ignoring the pain it inflicted on my cut lip. I stopped once in the middle to take a breath and gulped down the other half. He moved his hand towards me, and I flinched at the action thinking it was to hurt me again. Instead, he started stroking my hair gently, his calloused fingers making a soothing pattern on my head, a great contrast to what I experienced at his hands a little while ago. I looked up at him, trying to figure him out; the frown set on his beautiful face, his lips slightly apart as he watched me intently with those green eyes of his, an expression that could almost be mistaken for longing. However, it was gone as soon as I recognized it, as he masked it with the previous coldness and indifference.
He took out the knife and cut the binds on my hands, and roughly hoisted me from the chair, and pulled it from behind me, the action making me lose my balance..
"Are you freaking bipolar or something?" I hissed at the pain throbbing in my head as I leaned on the table, to steady myself. I heard the fumbling of clothes before a pair of blue garments were thrown at me.
"Change into them, whenever you get the chance," he said. " Also, hold something against that cut, if you don't fancy losing all your blood in the next few hours." He pointed towards the wound on the side of my neck, a stinging pain that erupted from it as I titled my head to touch it.
"Now, follow me," he said and walked out the door without a second glance towards me. It was hard to keep up with his long strides, my dizzy mind and the confusing structure of the base. It would take a long time before we got used to it, and I'm not sure we have that.
He led me through the same route as the previous guards who were escorting me to the cells, but instead of following the main corridor, we took a left and approached the room at the end of the hallway. The door of the room was metal that completely enclosed the room, and had a dial pad installed besides the latch. Rick pressed a few keys on the pad, which I assumed would be the code, because after that I heard a resounding click and he turned the knob with fair ease to reveal my new prison.
I cursed him as he shoved me inside, throwing me off balance once more and became riddled with shock as I heard a familiar voice.
"Salman?," said the voice of the ex prime minister, Suleiman Khan. "What are you doing here?"