Setting
The interrogation room, common to all law enforcement agencies and prisons, as well the notorious black sites, and a number of other government owned buildings, is a unique fixture representative of the awesome power of authority.
The typical interrogation room is a sparsely furnished room, with harsh fluorescent lighting, sometimes protected by a wire cage. Inside there is a metal table and some chairs, anywhere between two and four straight-backed chairs, for the interrogator, subject, and a possible second interrogator or observer and attorney. There is a one-way mirror against one wall.
The walls are undecorated and painted a bland color; the floor's tiles have a monotonous pattern, or the rug a generic pattern. There are no lighting or ventilation controls in sight. The subject is seated with his or her back to the door, which is locked from the outside. Regardless of whether the subject is informed, he or she will be video and audio recorded from a remote location, the recording equipment hidden.
The typical interrogation room is a sparsely furnished room, with harsh fluorescent lighting, sometimes protected by a wire cage. Inside there is a metal table and some chairs, anywhere between two and four straight-backed chairs, for the interrogator, subject, and a possible second interrogator or observer and attorney. There is a one-way mirror against one wall.
The walls are undecorated and painted a bland color; the floor's tiles have a monotonous pattern, or the rug a generic pattern. There are no lighting or ventilation controls in sight. The subject is seated with his or her back to the door, which is locked from the outside. Regardless of whether the subject is informed, he or she will be video and audio recorded from a remote location, the recording equipment hidden.
Interrogation Room
A sparsely furnished room, with harsh fluorescent lighting protected by a wire cage, with a metal table and chairs, and a one-way mirror on one wall. The walls and floor are plain, and no lighting or ventilation controls in sight. You are being recorded.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
| "out" to United States Penitentiary Lee » | ||
Interrogation Room is a part of 
America.
12 Characters Here
Tahira Ali [79] An international fugitive associated with the terrorist group Hataf, she is on the FBI 10 Most Wanted. The reward for her capture is $25 million. Her case has been highly publicized, and "Tahira Ali" is a household name.
Azzan Kam [34] CIA Counter-Terrorism Specialist
Nathaniel (Nathan) Carter [26] A Human Intelligence warrent officer of the United States Army assigned direct access to Ali.
Dawn Keating [21] A fiery and quick-tempered journalist, working on getting as much out of the Tahira Ali story as is feasibly possible.
Graciela Kaplan [0] A recently adopted 16-year-old Carribean girl.
Joslyn Romanov [0] Joslyn works in the FBI. She's a skilled hacker and surveillance women.
Tatiana Ivanova [0] A Russian mercenary
[Doctor] Everett Camille [0] A 34 year old FBI Agent working for the BAU Unit #1 (Counterterrorism) and Doctor of Psychology. He studies body language in order to unravel the infinite mysteries within the minds of criminals.
Killian McGrory [0] A former PIRA bomber hired by Hataf to create chaos and draw attention from their other operations.
Start Character Here »
"Of course warden, of course." Rapp drew the orders from his pocket and handed them over. They had been expertly forged by the CIA and bore the signature of the Assisstant Director of Counter-Intelligence, a man who even at this moment was being arrested in Washington.
Husted took the orders, scanning through them rapidly, his eyes moving back and forth across the page. "Is there a reason for the transfer, Colonel?" he asked, handing the orders back to Rapp.
Rapp gave a shrug of the shoulders as to suggest he was not privy to such information. "I would like to know was much as you warden but on the need to know basis, I apparently didn't need to know."
"I'm going to catch a lot of shit for this," Husted remarked, shaking his head. He motioned with two fingers. "Come on then. She's in an empty cell block, over in the West Wing."
"Much obliged warden." Replied Rapp as he fell into step next to the older man, his security detail of four men following in their wake.
Husted strode purposefully through the corridors of the prison, stopping at each sally port to slide his identification through the slot, and manually keep the gates open for the military men following him. None of the prisoners stirred from their sleep as they passed, and Husted only gave them parting glances, his hands clasped behind his back.
In the West Wing, Moses Kent had been watching Ali, leaning against one of the walls with tired eyes, fighting the urge to climb into the nearest bed and sleep. He'd drawn the short straw, and been stuck with the extra shift. Ali herself was asleep, lying on the thin mattress in the prison cell, dead to the world. In sleep, she looked at peace.
The last sally port admitted them, and Husted came to a stop. Facing Rapp, he cleared his throat. "She's all yours, gentlemen. I trust your CO will be to blame when the shit hits the fan?" Husted was only half-joking.
In the West Wing, Moses Kent had been watching Ali, leaning against one of the walls with tired eyes, fighting the urge to climb into the nearest bed and sleep. He'd drawn the short straw, and been stuck with the extra shift. Ali herself was asleep, lying on the thin mattress in the prison cell, dead to the world. In sleep, she looked at peace.
The last sally port admitted them, and Husted came to a stop. Facing Rapp, he cleared his throat. "She's all yours, gentlemen. I trust your CO will be to blame when the shit hits the fan?" Husted was only half-joking.
As the Warden and the Colonel vanished around the corner the Sergeant who had waited outside entered the prison and moved quickly to the security station. The gaurds on duty gave hima glance but thought nothing of it, heads turning back to their card game, confident they could avoid detection with the Warden being away for the moment.
Azzan waited until one of them put down a winning hand and then very quietly ejected the security tapes from the wall behind him, using his body to sheild the motion. Each tmie he ejected one he would run a magnet above its reels. The tapes would be erased and completely useless. That wouldn't be noticed until the morning shoft arrived.
Azzan waited until one of them put down a winning hand and then very quietly ejected the security tapes from the wall behind him, using his body to sheild the motion. Each tmie he ejected one he would run a magnet above its reels. The tapes would be erased and completely useless. That wouldn't be noticed until the morning shoft arrived.
Rapp grinned. "Don't worry warden. My CO is going to going to geta ll the heat he can manage. I assure you. Thank you for your co-operation." He nodded for the door to be opened and walked into the cell, banging loudly on the door. "Up and at em princess. Time to move!"
At the sudden noise, Ali's eyes slid open. "Salaam alaykum," she murmured automatically, and then looked over to Rapp, blinking in the darkness, as she took stock of the intruder, her eyes narrowing as she rose to a sitting position, gaze falling over Rapp's face, unsure who this stranger was. He was dressed in an American military uniform. Slowly, she stood, her gaze resting on the man's chin.
Rapp looked at the prisoner with disgust. She was the very thing he and his fellow agents waged a secret war against in the Afghan mountains.
"Sergeant, cuffs." He stepped aside as a sergeant produced a pair of flexi-cuffs and secured the prisoners hands. "Good. Lets go."
Rapp led the way out of the cell and watched as his four men fell in around the prisoner before turning back to the Warden. "Thank you warden. Perhaps you would be so kind as to lead us back out of this maze?"
"Sergeant, cuffs." He stepped aside as a sergeant produced a pair of flexi-cuffs and secured the prisoners hands. "Good. Lets go."
Rapp led the way out of the cell and watched as his four men fell in around the prisoner before turning back to the Warden. "Thank you warden. Perhaps you would be so kind as to lead us back out of this maze?"
"Of course," Husted said, nodding once. "This way." The warden motioned toward the way they had come from, striding through the winding halls of the prison in the darkness, his steps falling softly. Ali did not speak, following the men without uttering a single word, until they approached the lobby.
"Sir - where are you taking me?" she asked softly, her English spoken haltingly, looking toward Rapp.
Rapp heard the question come from the terrorist but he didn't bother to answer her. If he had his way she would have been in a CIA interrogation room for the past week already while he and few others squeezed everything she knew out of her until she knew no more, then a bullet to the head and it would be over. He noticed Azzan standing nearby and the man tipped him a wink.
"Warden, thank you for your help. Its been a pleasure to meet you. Until next time." Rapp winked at the other man's look of distress. "Just kidding I promise you. You wont be holding any more prisoners of this importance."
"Warden, thank you for your help. Its been a pleasure to meet you. Until next time." Rapp winked at the other man's look of distress. "Just kidding I promise you. You wont be holding any more prisoners of this importance."
"It's been an interesting experience, Colonel," Husted said, nodding once to Rapp, just noticing Azzan, though he said nothing. "Just remember, your CO is taking all the shit that gets thrown at me come morning." The warden watched as they took Ali. The prisoner said nothing further, complying meekly with the men taking her from the prison.
The small group climbed into the Knight armoured trucks and the engines roared to life. Rapp waved once to the Warden as they pulled away, confident that the signed orders he had conveniently "forgotten" on a desk in the security room would protect the warden from any persecution but make the Assistant Director of Counter-Intelliegnce even more doomed. With a screech of rubber the two heavy vehicles turned left out of the prison gates and vanished into the pre-dawn light, navigating a random course through the quiet streets until arrival at a small heliport. There a single black Lynx helicopter with "Site-Seeing" across its flanks waited silently. Two men with sub-machine guns appeared from the shadows and after a quick discussion they exchanged places with Rapp and Azzan who hustled Ali aboard.
Azzan climbed into the pilots seat and started the aircraft, not bother to watch as the two trucks disappeared. The engines whirred to life and within minutes they were airborne. He did one quick circle to make sure everything was running properly then he dipped the nose and aimed for Colorado.
Azzan climbed into the pilots seat and started the aircraft, not bother to watch as the two trucks disappeared. The engines whirred to life and within minutes they were airborne. He did one quick circle to make sure everything was running properly then he dipped the nose and aimed for Colorado.
Once aboard, Ali looked about the interior of the plane through tired eyes, not sure where she was going, or why. These things she did not ask, sure that if something needed to be said, it would be. During the flight, she remained silent, staring at the floor most of the time, the expression on her face unreadable. It would not be a particularly long flight - and Ali had not been on a plane in a very long time, not counting the flight from Kabul to the States.
The helicopter was on the verge of crossing into the Rockies when Rapp slipped a black bag over Ali's head. He didn't much care if she saw where they were going for she would never leave it alive but procedure had to be obeyed. As they crossed over the mountains and flew deeper into the heart of the silent giants he felt his gut tighten, within a few hours they would be learning the key to so many terrorist secrets it would keep him and Azzan busy for years to come. He felt the felt the helicopter start to drop and didn't need Azzan to tell him, they had arrived.
All went dark. Ali could feel her breath hot against her face, became acutely aware of the sound of her heart beating in her ears, the heart rate increasing, as a natural physiological response to the sudden change. She was sure it was now past fajr, that if she were still among the members of Hataf, there would be exhortations to pray. Subconsciously, her shoulders stiffened, her eyes trawling about, but to no avail. She could see nothing. Ali lowered her head. She did not know where they were taking her – all she knew was the look of repulsion on the soldier’s face. What damned her was that she believed it was well-deserved.
The Lynx helicopter settled onto the narrow landing strip that looked out over the craggy mountains. AS the rotors wound down and the door was opened Rapp breathed deeply of the mountain air, the heavy scent of pine tree’s and the fresh clean air that bore no resemblance whatsoever to the city. In many ways it smelled just like Afghanistan. The vista below them spread out, the endless peaks of the Rocky Mountains vanishing beyond sight in every direction.
Behind him a metal door opened and aircrew appeared to take control of the helicopter as Rapp and Kam walked their bound and still hooded prisoner into the hanger. It had once been a Nuclear fallout shelter known only to a very few top government officials. Over the years it had been sold to a company that was a front for the CIA. It was virtually impossible to access by anything other then helicopter and was the most secure location Rapp knew of within the boundaries of the US. All the guards had been hand picked and were fanatical patriots. It was the perfect place to make Ali disappear.
Behind him a metal door opened and aircrew appeared to take control of the helicopter as Rapp and Kam walked their bound and still hooded prisoner into the hanger. It had once been a Nuclear fallout shelter known only to a very few top government officials. Over the years it had been sold to a company that was a front for the CIA. It was virtually impossible to access by anything other then helicopter and was the most secure location Rapp knew of within the boundaries of the US. All the guards had been hand picked and were fanatical patriots. It was the perfect place to make Ali disappear.
She could not see where she was going, and momentary panic gripped her as she walked, taking each step gingerly, stumbling as she moved, unsure where to put her feet. Ali sensed the change in air, the openness of the mountains. She could hear the pine trees rustling in the gentle breeze. This was where she belonged, in the abandoned country. Then the milieu changed again, Ali finding herself standing on very different terrain. "Where - where am I?" she asked, her soft voice muffled, hardly penetrating the cloth.
Again Rapp ignored the question, instead nodding in recognition to a thick set black man who was walking towards them. He halted a few paces away and looked the prisoner up and down.
“This is her huh?”
“Correct.” There were no names here. “In all her glory. Have you got a nice spot picked out for her?”
The big man grinned. “The very best. Follow me.” He turned and made his way towards an open elevator that looked as if it still ran on chains and a steam pump. The four climbed onto it and the black man hit a switch, somewhere an engine whirred and the elevator began to rise with a rattle of chains.
After a few minutes it stopped and with the welcoming agent in the lead they made their way past a guard station manned by two very alert looking young men who cradled sub-machine guns. They nodded familiarly to Kam and Rapp and glared balefully at the hooded woman.
“Here we are.” Said their escort as he stopped in front of a heavy steel door built right into the rock. “Open three.” He called and the door ground open to reveal a 6 by 6 cell. It was made from the stone of the mountain, a single narrow bed cut from one wall with a rubber mattress on it. A video camera was perched high in a corner, the rooms roof being nearly twelve feet in height.
Rapp pushed the prisoner into the cell and removed her handcuffs then backed away and watched the door closed on the hooded figure.
“This is her huh?”
“Correct.” There were no names here. “In all her glory. Have you got a nice spot picked out for her?”
The big man grinned. “The very best. Follow me.” He turned and made his way towards an open elevator that looked as if it still ran on chains and a steam pump. The four climbed onto it and the black man hit a switch, somewhere an engine whirred and the elevator began to rise with a rattle of chains.
After a few minutes it stopped and with the welcoming agent in the lead they made their way past a guard station manned by two very alert looking young men who cradled sub-machine guns. They nodded familiarly to Kam and Rapp and glared balefully at the hooded woman.
“Here we are.” Said their escort as he stopped in front of a heavy steel door built right into the rock. “Open three.” He called and the door ground open to reveal a 6 by 6 cell. It was made from the stone of the mountain, a single narrow bed cut from one wall with a rubber mattress on it. A video camera was perched high in a corner, the rooms roof being nearly twelve feet in height.
Rapp pushed the prisoner into the cell and removed her handcuffs then backed away and watched the door closed on the hooded figure.
Ali stumbled inside, flinching at the sound of the door shutting. Voices faded away. She was alone again. A moment later, she felt circulation returning to her wrists with a stinging pain. Ali reached up and slowly pulled the hood from her head, blinking, only to realize the cell she was in was as dark as it had been under the hood. She reached out with her hands, blindly stumbling about in the dark, when she crashed into the stone shelf that served as a bed, yelping in surprise. After a moment, she could see the faintest outlines.
Ali sank to the floor, leaning against one of the walls, her knees drawn up to her chin, her hands resting on her knees. She could hear herself breathing, inhaling, exhaling. She did not speak. In the feast of silence, she could hear the the sound of distant, feral screams and explosions, great, wracking sobs, could smell burned husks of wood and metal, rotting flesh and propane. In the darkness, she trembled, moisture forming at the corners of her eyes.
Ali sank to the floor, leaning against one of the walls, her knees drawn up to her chin, her hands resting on her knees. She could hear herself breathing, inhaling, exhaling. She did not speak. In the feast of silence, she could hear the the sound of distant, feral screams and explosions, great, wracking sobs, could smell burned husks of wood and metal, rotting flesh and propane. In the darkness, she trembled, moisture forming at the corners of her eyes.
In the wake of the fiasco over the news story of the century - and the fact that the Director of the FBI was livid beyond belief - Natalie Schultz had driven out to the prison first thing in the morning, in order to discover who exactly had let a reporter in to see Ali. The name was easily located - Deputy Assistant Director of Counterintelligence Kyle Reeves - as Natalie glanced at the visitors' log, immediately placing the time and date. Accompanying the familiar name was "Special Agent Allison Moore".
A byproduct of eidectic memory and boredom, Natalie recalled that the only Allison Moore in the Bureau had been on maternal leave for two weeks now. She turned to Warden Husted, the older man standing beside her with his arms folded, and demanded, "Take me to see Tahira. Now, Andrew. It is a necessity for me to ensure the security of ev - "
"Ali is no longer here," Husted interrupted with a wave of the hand, as Natalie stared at the man's long mustache, the pen whirling in her hand. "She was transferred, orders from the top."
"I need to see th - " Natalie began, and Husted interrupted again.
"Here they are," he said, offering the copy of the orders Rapp had left behind. Natalie glanced at them, flipped through the pages, committing them to memory with a single look.
"Well, then," she said, twisting to look at the wall. "Thank you for your time." Natalie nodded briefly to the Warden before returning to her car. Sitting in the driver's seat, she pondered the documents. They did not specify a receiving location. The military, while decidedly anal about need to know, would not be so ambiguous in its orders, she decided. Thus, the likely culprit was the Bureau's longtime rival, the Directorate of Central Intelligence.
Phoning a well-used number, Natalie put in a call over her secure wireless, hoping to contact someone in the Agency's counterterrorism division. Over the years, she'd participated in several Agency operations, even spending two years in Afghanistan a few years back, where her linguistic skills proved invaluable. And unlike some at the Bureau, Natalie harbored little animosity for her Agency counterparts. That trend, however, seemed to be coming to an end.
Somewhere deeply in Langley a bored looknig desk agent glanced at the call coming in his line. For a few moments he was tempted to ignore it and let another agent deal with it but with a long suffering sigh he finally picked up the phone. "Central Intelligence. How may we svae the FBI today?"