Title: Don't Drink The Water, Chapter Ten

Archive: Not without Permission of the Author

Disclaimer: "Over There" and all its characters belong to FX Networks and other entities that may have been involved with its production. No infringement of copyright is intended. This story was written for personal enjoyment and to share with other "Over There" fans.

Summary: Suspicions confirm that there's a traitor in their midst; Scream and His Squad fight to save a friends life.

Camp Freedom
Stockade
0600 hours

Baron walked out to the small exercise area and stood looking down at the small reed mat splattered with blood. Several inches away a large pool of partially dried blood with bits of gore in it lay, already covered with dark buzzing flies. He stood there for several minutes forcing himself not gag, then turned toward the MP beside him and asked curtly "Did you take pictures for the evidence file?"

"Yes, sir, we were waiting for you to observe the scene before hosing it down."

"Thank You!" Baron snapped, walking away and back inside the holding area where Harris was waiting with Lapus and Hunter. He stared at Harris, arms folded on his chest. "You care to tell me just what the hell went on here? How the hell did they get out of their cells?" He demanded.

Harris swallowed audibly before speaking. "Apparently, the younger man asked Cooper if he might be allowed to pray outside. Since we were told he was no threat, and that he was cooperative, Cooper allowed it. He's a kid; they figured he'd be no trouble and we had two guards out there with him. What I don't know, is how the other one got out there, too. No one here owns up to letting him out."

Lapus had walked towards Fazul's now empty cell and was staring into it, but when he heard Harris' comment he turned and snapped angrily "Maybe he just slipped thru the bars!"

"That's enough of that." Baron snapped and turned back to Harris. "I want every person from this area questioned again. I want to know how he got out there and how the hell he was able to stab someone twice before anybody noticed it!" Baron shouted.

"Yes, sir."

"Where's the weapon?"

Harris turned and walked into the small cubicle that was his office and returned with a plastic evidence bag which contained the weapon. It was a flat piece of metal approximately eight inches in length and about an inch wide; one end had been rubbed on an angle on either side so that it ended in a point that was sharp enough to piece skin and do serious internal damage.

"Where did this come from?"

"From the side of his bunk, sir. The top end isn't secured to the wall and it must have been loose enough for him to pry it off, but what he used to do it with I have no idea."

"There's a whole lot you don't know, isn't there?" Lapus hissed under his breath.

Baron turned and gave Lapus a warning glance. He knew the man was angry and felt somehow responsible for the younger mans death, but this wasn't the time or place for it. He walked toward the last cell that now housed Sulayman. The MP standing guard, saluted. "Sir."

Baron nodded as he stared at the man five feet away from him. "I want this man observed at all times. He is not to leave his cell unless it comes directly from me. If he does leave it, he's to be in doubled flex-ties and to be thoroughly searched. And I mean thoroughly. Anything he has on him is to be kept as evidence and everything documented in his file."

"Yes sir!"

Baron stared back at Sulayman." It would be in your best interest to speak with us."

Sulayman turned his head slightly, making a rather harsh sound in his throat; turning, he took two steps towards the bars of his cell and hawked a large glob of spit and other secretions directly at Baron, who quickly stepped backward to avoid the distasteful projectile.

With a look of abject disgust he said, "Sulayman Abu Mazul al-Fallujah, you are being formally charged with the murder of Fazul Aljameer in addition to the charges already pending. You'll be read your rights by Officer Harris. You can request council if you wish to. Let Harris know who you wish to speak to and we'll get him here for you. Afterwards you'll be transferred to Camp Redemption at the Abu Ghraib Prison."

With that he turned and walked out of the holding area and walked directly to the Jeep beyond the chain link fence. He got in and nodded to Hunter and Lapus who climbed in after him.

"Hunter, I need you to follow up with Harris and find out who this guy wants to talk

to. If he decides to forego counsel- no, scratch that! I want someone from Baqubah to come here and speak with me, and him, now! I don't want to hear any shit later on saying he was denied counsel, or that no one knew what went on here."

"I'll get right on that, sir." Hunter replied.

"Lapus, get Silas up to speed, and then get him in to see me."

Silas' Barracks
0730 Hours

Silas was sitting up on his bunk when Lapus arrived bearing a tray with coffee and what some misguided Iraqi baker called a breakfast roll. He placed the tray beside Silas and then sat down on the next bunk. "How's your head?"

"Goddamn hurts." He leaned forward towards his footlocker and opened the lid, which made a clunking sound and made him grimace. He dug out some aspirin, and then angrily flipped the lid closed; it made the same clunking sound again, and Lapus laughed. He sneered at the other man, muttering under his breath. "Bitch."

"You're always so nice when I come to visit you, Chris." He chuckled at the confused look on Silas' face. "Look, drink your coffee. Baron wants me to bring you up to speed on the whole prisoner/break-in situation."

"Shoot."

"Okay. After you and Hunter got hurt-"

"Hunter got hurt?"

"Yeah. You missed a good one. Bastard got kneed in the balls by the prisoner."

Silas grinned.

"Anyway, after the dust settled I went and talked to the kid, Fazul? Kid spilled his guts to me. Seems KAOS is planning an attack on all the military installations, and then intends to take over the interim government."

Silas raised his eyebrows. "That would mean they have to have other cells strategically placed and a plan to coordinate the cells. Does he know where they are?"

Lapus shook his head. "No. And forget about getting any more information out of him. He's dead. The other prisoner murdered him this morning."

"Goddamn. What the hell happened?"

"They let the kid go outside to pray this morning and some asshole screwed up and let the other guy out too, even though they had orders to keep them apart. He stabbed the kid to death and tried to slice out his tongue."

"With what?"

"A piece of metal from his cell. Baron's gonna rip someone a new asshole."

Lapus was quiet for a few minutes. Silas knew the man fairly well enough to pick up on his demeanor. "John?"

Lapus sighed loud and long. "Friggin' kid was sixteen years old! He got in with the wrong people. We could have helped him; I told him I'd help him, that he'd have a chance at a life…Ah…..fuck." He looked up at Silas. "Finish your coffee. Baron wants to see us."

Camp Freedom
Captain Baron's Command tent
0830 That Same Day

The man waited patiently in his seat as his aide came forward and opened the door of the ancient white Bentley, bowing deeply. He ignored the man as he stepped out onto the sandy ground ever careful of getting dust on his crisp white uniform and shoes. With a flick of his hand he brushed off a spot on his jacket and adjusted the shoulders before straightening his white cap and dark sunglasses. He then made an angry gesture with his arm and his aide hurried forward to find someone in charge.

St Claire stuck his head into the Command tent. "Captain? There's a gentleman here to see you from the Office of the Ministry of the Defense. Abdallah Jamshid."

"Send him in please." Baron responded, standing up and reaching for his BDU jacket.

He came forward as St. Claire ushered the man and his aide inside, and offered his hand. "I'm Captain James Baron, United States Army, Senior Officer of Camp Freedom. Thank you for coming to speak with me, Mr. Jamshid?"

"Abdallah Jamshid," the man said with the air of someone more important then he actually was. "I was sent by General Faisal Otabi, Minister of Defense. He received a message about an incident that occurred here involving Fazul Aljameer."

"Yes. Unfortunately, a lot has transpired since we contacted your office yesterday. Please have a seat, sir and I'll explain what's happened so far." He gestured to a chair.

Jamshid said something in Arabic to his aide, who immediately left the tent.

"May I offer you a cold drink, Mr. Jamshid?"

Jamshid declined and settled himself in the chair. Only then did Baron walk around to the opposite side of the table and take his own seat, surreptitiously observing the other man. He was in his forties, a bit rotund and despite his mild mannered appearance Baron sensed that this man was not to be trusted. He couldn't put it into words, it was just a gut instinct, and Baron always relied on his instincts.

"Sir, you are aware that 48 hours ago we found Fazul attempting to leave this installation with classified US government documents?"

Jamshid shook his head. "It is a terrible shock! I know this young man. I know his family! For him to be in this type of trouble is just impossible to believe. You say he stole documents? Why would he do such a thing?"

"We don't know, and unfortunately, we'll never know. Fazul is dead."

Jamshid jumped to his feet and placed his hand on his chest. "No. No! This cannot be. This is terrible! Captain, how could such a thing happen here?"

'You're not a very good actor,' Baron thought to himself. "Sir, Fazul was murdered this morning by another man whom we also found trying to sneak out of the Camp with US government property. He had several U.S. government documents on his person, and several forms of ID," Baron said glancing down at the file on his desk. "His name, so far as we know, is Sulayman Abu Mazul al-Fallujah. Are you familiar with him?"

Baron watched as Jamshid's leaned slightly forward in his chair, his eyes widening briefly before leaning back again. "No, No. No, I have never met this man," he said offhandedly with a wave of his hand.

"I asked if you were familiar with him, sir. Not if you'd met him."

Jamshid looked up, a look of surprise on his face, but recovered quickly." I know everyone in the town of Baqubah, but not this man. That is what I meant." He replied in short clipped tones.

Baron smiled and nodded, placating the man. "We believe this man is involved in an organization called KAOS; you've heard of them, surely."

The Iraqi drew himself up in his chair. "Yes, of course, Captain. The Ministry of Defense is well aware that there are many who seek to disturb the peace brought by this country's interim government. But they are insignificant."

Baron's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry to disagree with you Mr. Jamshid, but these people are anything but insignificant. We believe these people to be responsible for as attacks on other villages in the area, including several government offices, yours, as well as those of the United States. These people went so far as to destroy a Mosque a short time ago."

"He's told you this?" Jamshid asked in a strangled voice, before clearing his throat.

"He's admitted to this?"

Baron suspected the man had been dishonest with him, but now he was certain. "We've learned several things about KAOS and their intentions, but he could be more cooperative. For that reason I'm having him shipped to Camp Liberty in the morning. The people there will get to the bottom of this, I'm sure. He'll be charged formally."

"Perhaps I might speak to him Captain? Maybe I can convince him to be a bit more cooperative?" Jamshid smiled.

"I would hate to see you waste your time on this man, sir. I think its better-"

"Please! I would like to help, Captain. My office wants to encourage cooperation with our American friends. It would set a good example." Jamshid said; then aware that it seemed like begging, he smiled again.

Baron shrugged. "If you'd like to try. Corporal St. Claire?"

"Yes,sir?"

"Would you please have Mr. Jamshid escorted to the Brig? He'd like to speak to the prisoner."

"Thank You, Captain Baron." Jamshid said as he quickly rose from his chair. "If I can be of any further assistance….."

"Thank You, Mr. Jamshid. I'll be sure to call on you. Thank you for your time." He reached over and shook the man's hand, then watched as he followed St. Claire out of the tent. He remained standing for several minutes, his fingers gently drumming on the table top, before calling St. Claire back in.

"Sir?"

"Get Harris for me, ASAP. And then see if you can't track down Colonel Ryan."

"Yes, sir!"