James had been praying for a good solid hour and a half, and was sure that he would at least get put in a more tolerable part of hell, maybe lower management or hells janitor, get paid in hell dollars or something. The time spent in the cell with nothing to do had done their worst on James. So when the cell door opened, instead of taking his chance at freedom he snapped back into reality, the reality where he was about to die. So he decided to have the last laugh.
"James Tartoni?" asked a different guard
"Nope" said James, trying to feign innocent
"Funny" said the guard, pulling out a shock baton and beating the ever loving crap out of James.
"James Tartoni?" asked the guard again.
"Nope, I think you killed him" said James, wincing.
"Oh really? Well you were getting bail, so, next cell you said?" said the guard, looking smug.
"Shit! I'm James Tartoni, that's me, please let me out!" cried James charging towards the guard, he buzzed James with the baton.
"Sorry, I guess I got the wrong person" said the guard, shutting the heavy steel door behind him, Leaving James to wallow in his stupidity. After the ringing of the door stopped, James could faintly hear arguing from the outside; James pressed his ear against the door. It opened a moment or two later, and James fell over into the hallway, landing on a pair of shoes. Just in time to see another man from the raid get dragged to a sealed room, screaming all the way.
"He just replaced you, same weight and height, facial doesn't matter, after the gas is done, no one could tell the difference" said the owner of the shoes; James looked up to see a man dressed in a casual business suit.
"You must be James, get up, we have a lot to discuss" said the man with the shoes, James nodded, still in awe and total confusion. Half an hour later, after the guards gave him ten minutes to wash up and make himself presentable. They brought him to a small office, similar to the one were James was confronted with boss.
"You are James Tartoni, Correct?" said the man in the suit; he looked to be in his late thirties, with short peppered hair, his eyes full of experience. He seemed at ease, relaxed despite the soundings.
"yes, that's me, I guess I'm going to be interviewed before I die, the last words of one of the terrorists who killed innocents, well guess what, I feel like shit, ok, there's your interview right there, I regret it all, I did it for drugs the end" James was losing it, shouting at the man in the suit "can somebody kill me now, you there with the gun" said James pointing to one of the guards, "you that's right you, you shoot me ok." He said, tapping his forehead, letting the guard know where to shoot, the man in the suit waved his hand, dismissing the guards.
"James, with what you're going through, I can understand you freaking out, but I'm not a reporter ok, I'm with the government and I want you to walk with me out of this building" the man in the suit looked calm, and as far as James could tell, being perfectly honest. "What's the catch?" said James, not buying that someone would pay bail for a nothing murderer like him.
"The catch is that you spend five years in a special training program for elite military operatives, before you ask it's a special task force made entirely of death row criminals and undesirables that specialize in suicide missions. We want to help you amend for your mistakes, like killing your mother in a drive by while high on a highly addictive toxin, nothing more nothing less.
"So it's either two years in a hushed up death squad with a bunch of hardcore murderers about my age or I can die? Gee the options" said James, feeling some sarcasm would lighten the mood.
"James, every last person in those cells would give everything to be in your position, and you have the balls to make jokes" he paused; James flinched as he already felt the noose tighten. "Welcome aboard" said the man, "And after you've spent thirty deployments your case will be reassessed and you may end up living in isolation". Reaching out his hand to shake James's hand, James was hesitant, the last time he or his brother shook hands in an office; Things went downhill fast. James brought back his hand "let's just call it a deal." He said. The suit stood up, and motioned the guard behind them to open the door. As he walked out; he wondered what Tommy was going through.