Salman's pov
"Mr. Suleiman," I said, breathing the name in a whisper, like I would lose him if I dared to speak louder. He seemed to be as surprised as I was, only mine was more serendipitous than his, and what he got was nothing more than a coincidence. However he seemed to have recovered from the shock pretty quickly, leaning back against the wall, one of his legs raised, with an arm propped on it.
"You weren't expecting me to be alive, were you?" He said with an air of superiority, like somebody who is one step ahead of you. I was expecting to see a dejected, hopeless man, after the loss he had gone through; instead I was witnessing a cool and collected person, who seemed to be in control. His calmness disturbed me, as he looked at me from the corner of his eyes with a patronizing smile on his face.
I needed to remember that I found what we set out for, no matter the circumstances. All I needed to do now was figure out a way to inform the rest of the crew. They must have heard about me getting arrested, after the feat I pulled and were probably already searching for me. However, I needed to be careful since all of our activities, and conversations were being monitored and I couldn't risk exposing other members of the crew because of another stupid mistake.
"Forgive me, Mr. Suleiman, but we all saw your house being burned to the ground," I played along with the former prime minister. " No reports of your body were made, leading the nation to believe you were dead, including me and Amira." I told him in a confused tone, in hopes of getting a reasonable explanation out of him, that might provide me with valuable feedback.
"You know," he began, the patronizing smile widening a bit as he looked down at his hands, and rubbed the tips of his fingers and thumb together, as if the conversation was nothing but a source of mild amusement for him. "Amira spoke a lot about you, and the time you spent together. You seemed to be the only source of joy in her otherwise miserable life, and the only pillar of support she could lean on to, since we were both too busy to look out for one another. I am glad she had you, while I had Sheru" He said, casually comparing me to their lap dog Amira often talked about.
"I always told her you would make a good match for her. When you're in politics you need someone looking out for you. Someone who is willing to look out for you without any preconditions or personal interest; something genuine in a world of superficial relationships."
"With all due respect, Sir, Amira will always find me by her side whenever she needs me, and I have immense respect for her as a person. However, we are amazing friends, nothing more and probably never will be." I told him as calmly as I could. As a father and experienced politician, I expected better of him than to believe in high school rumors or whatever nonsense the media was feeding the public, and be more understanding towards his daughter.
"Friends?" He scoffed. "I thought you would know better than to consider a politician your friend, my dear child. We are not people you simply affiliate yourselves with and expect a peaceful life, henceforth."
"I have never craved a peaceful life."
"That's because you haven't seen the other side yet. A life with power means now you're in an equation. If there are greater figures in the equation with signs that are favorable to them, there is a chance you could be eliminated."
"That's why it's best to keep your value unknown. The signs are there simply as a coincidence, and you don't know who they might favor unless you put your mind to solving the equation." He gave me a skeptical look before replacing it with a disappointed expression.
"I should never have allowed Amira to join the party," he says, turning his face down, speaking to himself more than me. "Politics is a dangerous game and one should avoid getting involved in it, at all costs."
" It corrupts your heart," he continues, folding his hands and staring intently at them. "Takes a toll on your mind, until you're not yourself anymore. Reduced to nothing but a mere puppet at the hands of the system."
The preceding events have shaken him to the core. He is a man filled with regrets and devoid of hope. Is this what being a leader does to you? Leave an empty shell of the person who you once were?
I shifted closer to him, and placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"We believed in you Mr. Suleiman," I told him, locking my eyes with his almond shaped ones. He looked nothing like his father, but so much like his daughter, though her spirit and resolve was stronger than his. "We knew you were an honest leader who would take the right decisions for our nation."
"Then, I guess I made the wrong decisions with the right intentions," he replied with a rueful smile on his face.
"Then we'll right those decisions, sir. Together."
I needed him to believe in himself and get back on his feet, because once the others find out where we are, we would not have much time for anything else other than escaping.
"You know your hope reminds me of Amira. My beautiful, headstrong princess who stayed true to her purpose in the face of all odds. Her resilience was inspiring, but proved destructive to her in the end."
"The destruction is worth it, if you know you were holding your side of the truth."
"What if you find out the truth you were holding onto was a lie all along?"
"The truth will always remain the truth. In all situations, under all circumstances. If I ever find myself questioning the truth, I will know it is me who has changed, and not the truth."
"Then you are a perfect case of cognitive dissonance. It will be this trust that will break you in the end."
"But it is not the end, yet. We're alive and we're going to make it out of here. Mr. Khan-" I lower my voice, trying to give him a hint that we were here to rescue him, before he cut me off with his sudden outburst.
"And we will die in the process! Look where the affairs of my father got me, and now he is after my daughter. You should know better than to trust anything that man says and warn Amira against him." I felt a surge of anger towards him as he insulted Mr Khan in front of me. He was no angel but if I knew one thing about him was that he was a man of his words and family, unlike the man I was speaking to right now.
"Mr Khan is a far better father to Amira than you ever were, or could be." I said quietly, before moving away from him, to my former place.
The rest of my days in prison passed away in silence, except for the hum of the air conditioner, the ticking of the clock or the occasional opening and shutting of the door that marked the arrival of our meals, twice a day. We were served food on metal trays, which was mostly a bowl of thick bland soup, a stale piece of bread, and a glass of plain water. Days went by without seeing a ray of sunlight, where the only time we were allowed to leave our cells was to shower after every two days, in which we were given a pair of washed scrubs to change into in exchange for our worn ones. There was nothing to break the silence in the room and my exalted companion seemed to approve of the arrangement. We were reduced to robots of skin, blood and bone, as time passed by with sluggish pace.
This was the case until one day, we were seated in our usual boredom, the metal gate flung open, and instead of the person who brought food for us, it was Rick who stood in the doorway.
"The Mother has sent for you," he told me in a tired voice.