The single bed creaked as Claire adjusted her body to a sitting position with her bound leg dangling at the edge of the bed. She lost grasp of the time. She was convinced it was just a couple of hours since she had been separated from her colleagues, but her mind was muddled. Finally, someone came into the small prison cell to attend her. The bed adjacent to her was occupied by an older man. The lines on his tanned face and the untrimmed grey beard suggested his seniority. His appearance screamed the common local tribal elder, however, his behavior presented him otherwise. More pretentious rather than sincere.
He was puffing the scalding hot tea to have it cool. She could see the white vapor dance under the dimmed light of the room as he blew just above the rim of the glass. He attempted to drink it, yet it was still hot. Thus, he gingerly placed the glass on the small table situated between where both of them were seated. The air inside the small room permeated with the product of whatever he was smoking. A trashy herbalistic smell, not a pleasant kinda of way. It was making her dizzy. The Mustache Guy from before stood guard next to the Elder, arms folded together like a loyal follower. There was a prideful smirk on his face.
A dog, Claire thought.
"Hello, Miss Claire."
Claire was surprised to hear the Elder speaking the same language as she was but she kept her expression controlled. She did not want to give these people an idea of what she thinking. Although her hands and legs were still restrained, her mouth was free from the stuffing earlier. Definitely blood in her mouth because she tasted iron. They expected her to respond yet she just blinked at them and remained silent.
"First and foremost, let me introduce ourselves. My name is Oshan Appah and this is my assistant, Numa Fisaha. Secondly, I want to apologize for how my men treat you. But it has to be done. From our previous experience, guests tend to be more cooperative and attentive to what I'm about to say if we act this way."
She pressed her lips together momentarily. So, they were the ones who had been attacking the aid workers.
"I've been looking for you, Miss Claire. I never thought that today you would come straight to us. Finally, the Gods are on our side."
She scoffed in disdain, "Cut the bullshit. What do you want?"
Claire turned away from them and took a peek more at the room. The prison cell was about twelve-meters square with only a small window weld with metal bars at roughly three meters in height wall and a solid metal door for entrances and exits. Inside cramped with two metal beds and two small waist-in-height wardrobes, with the shower and toilet at the corner. Her firearm and the extra magazines were placed on the small round table clustered among his teapot and set of tea glasses. Claire thought maybe these were the only luxury he has in this shit hole.
The Mustache Guy rolled his eyes at Claire's arrogant reply.
"Right. I like your style, Miss Claire. Straight to business."
Claire snickered at his reply. His aloof answer indicated that her guess was indeed correct. The man was not a tribal elder. More someone was in the ranks. Not a tribal chieftain. Probably from a uniformed organization.
"I have two requests. First, I want you to create a passageway for me and my assistant here out from this country."
Claire snorted incredulously at his first request. The audacity for him -rebel malitia- to ask her that when he was part of the reason the whole country struggled to revive from the war. They tore the country apart; when things did not work their way, they ditch out and leave.
What happened to visionary belief and nationalistic morale?
Effing scumbag.
"Second, I want you to get the word out about what the US has been doing to us. The bioweapon testing in here."
That caught Claire's attention. Nobody knew about this, yet he said plainly. And then, all of a sudden, she gave a short mirthless laugh at how ironic the situation that she is in right now. Biohazard. It was evidence that when comes to it, the matters hunted her. Even though she was being reprimanded away, biohazards matters still came to her on a silver platter.
Just six months ago, her investigation of alleged bioterrorism that weaved connection to the US government put Terrasave under fire for the possibility of jeopardizing the chances of Penamstan humanitarian aid from the US. The incident had kept the board directors on their toes. Besides the disagreement with their approach notably somehow unorthodox and controversial, this further clashes their reputation with other NGOs. Some even called them the peace-keeping terrorists. It was an oxymoron but that was what they called them.
With no shreds of evidence, her investigation was dubbed to be circumstantial that she was tight-lipped on the matters. As a result, she became the -fall guy-. She was benched from any cases or materials related to biohazards until further notice and was put to assist with any menial works for the Humanitarian Aid Division. Her superior said it going to be short and temporary. Nonetheless, it has been half a year already. Hope was lost, what she had been promised felt like a mistaken belief.
"Accusation. You have no proof."
"This facility is your proof."
"This is a prison."
"Operation here was more than just a place of locking people. One of them was a testing ground for your government to meddle lives with science while keeping your namesake clean. The whole world knew your government's righteousness is fraudulence and full of deceits."
He was eloquent which means he was an educated man. His speech was a tactical gambit to get what he wanted.
"Aren't we all?" She challenged him, and he let out a sinister laugh.
"Am fully aware of your effort to reveal what happening here that involves the military and ministers-in-office a few months back. You see, it's not just them. It involves more than what you could ever think off."
He smirked in contempt. His speech was full of smugness and conviction. He was aware of what going on. It feared Claire if he was telling the truth, this could be scandalous. She wondered if Leon knew about this. Is this the reason why he was hell-bent on keeping the chip away from her?
"Is it?"
"Don't be surprised if they, meaning your government, send someone raiding this place with the intention to concealment of the whole thing. That's what they always do."
Her face scrunched as she swallowed a lump in her throat. She wiggled her wrist trying her luck for an escape.
The Elder continued, "Therefore, I need your drive and persistence to expose this once and for all. It's not just documents, it's not just video capture. With the proof that I have, that I will later share with you, no one can work their way to twist the truth of this exposé."
"Shut it with your yapping, I started to get bored.", retorted Claire.
"Your country's obsession with super soldiers was really something. The viral testing here was using the same particular strain that was developed in one particular laboratory. The only difference was that particular laboratory was closed due to a massive outbreak that led to the bombardment of the whole city. Pick your guess, Miss Claire. I'm sure you know the answer."
Her electric blue eyes were piercing his brown ones. If he was telling the truth, she wanted to see it from his eyes.
"Ooh...don't be naïve if you think this is about what happened five years ago. You got it all wrong. And certainly not from what happened six months ago. What happened to the Mad Dogs was just the tip of the iceberg. That was all on the surface. Of course, SECDEF Wilson was the prime mover, at least in Penamstan. But The Architect of the whole scheme, that's the one you have to pay attention to."
She saw the Mustache Guy taking out his phone and talking with a commanding voice.
"But if you want the truth, Miss Claire. You have to go underneath. Find the root. And what I have right now, is the root. It's all yours if you agree with my terms."
It can't be?
"Before I show you this, can I have your promise for you to meet these two requests?"
Of course, nothing is free in this world.
She did her best to keep herself cool, "If you are so well versed, for somebody like me, my work authority is kinda limited. I can't promise anything."
The Elder only smiled. Claire's uncooperative manner amused him. Perhaps he was aware of her charitable self provided him the credence that Claire would accept his conditions no matter what. The solid metal door flung open and a boy at the age of maybe twelve entered into their lodging with a metal case in hand. It had a beaten-up appearance, covered in the color of dirt and deep scratches. The boy stood in obedience by the door with his hands clasped in front after the Elder cautiously took the metal case. Lo and behold revealed two helix vials with green liquid as the Elder opened the metal case. He smelled triumph when he saw Claire's surprised face.
"Is that-?"
"Yes, Miss Claire. The virus samples itself. It's one of the earliest batches of virus samples manufactured here after it was remodeled and engineered. Of course, it was long to be perfected. Regardless, it's still a virus. We found it at the Warden's office surprisingly. He must have forgotten the piece when he fled this place."
Claire stared at both of them in total repugnance. The boy in the orange shirt squirmed from the place he stood.
"You need a laboratory to manufacture this and some sort of facilities to test it. Do you think I going to believe that some colored fluid in vials was the actual virus? You're lying, you talking out of your ass."
"Tsk...tsk...Or you lying to yourself. Like I said before this is not just a prison. And I'm a man with proof. Living proof. If agree with the terms, I can show you myself."
"How-"
Claire could not finish her sentences. Her eyes went wide, her face full of shock. It made sense to Claire when she spotted two helix vials were present from the three slots. Instead of missing, they were using it. She lunged her body trying to stand and knocked the small table.
"Motherfucker! You test it?!"
One of the tea glasses hit the floor and shattered. She fell to the floor, on her backside, and nearly landed on the glass. The Elder scrabbled pulling away the metal case and closed it in a hurry.
"I have to make sure it was the virus. I can't make a false offer."
The Mustache Guy roughly hauled Claire by her arm, his long nails digging into her skin. He threw her carelessly to the metal bed again. She was certain that her body would be covered with bruises from him manhandling her like that. The dusty mattress became her savior. She heard him mutter under his breath, there must be curses in his native language. The Elder returned back the metal case to the boy and he disappeared from her sight. She could only hear the loud bang of the solid door as the boy made his exit.
"You fucking psycho."
"No. You listen.", said the Elder in a menacing voice.
"I gonna give all of this. Sample virus, Files of lab reports, photos. Trial videos. All of it. But you have to promise a way out, me and him from this forsaken country. I know your new post handles the traffic out for the refugees. Figure it out."
Claire was huffing breath, livid. She narrowed her vision at him with furrowed brows and a crinkled forehead. "You wanna use Terrasave to tunnel you out. What makes you think I'm gonna do that for you?"
"If you not gonna do it, I just gonna kill you."
"You not gonna kill me. You need me."
"Then I'm going to kill your friends."
She bit her lips, her face showed anguished. But it was all a facade, a concealment of her true intention. For a second, there was a tinge of positivity that she might make it out of this alive. Unbeknownst to them, it was the pain that she trying to swallow. A piece of glass she secretly snatched from just now pierced her palm as she attempted to make her escape.
The Elder's keenness trying to convince Claire to get what he wanted set astray his sense of awareness of what she was doing. His henchman also joined his persuasive bargaining in broken English. The Elder still did not stop talking even though new sounds of commotion from outside could be heard from their location. It was faint but not unheard of. Since late at night it was unusual. When it got louder than impossible to ignore, the Elder and his assistant exited the room to investigate what going on.
The warmth from the blood on her hand went unnoticed, the pain was excruciating. In an awkward position, she was trying her best to cut the rope that tied her hands. The unrefined edge of the glass made it difficult to work with. Her patience was running thin and she was losing time. She tried to jerk the rope but her hands were still stuck. A distinctive screaming could be heard clearly from where she at.
No...
It was beyond doubt something was bound to happen the moment when she saw those vials. Even though it was foolish, she tried to be optimistic. She hoped that what she thinking was wrong and they were just fighting something petty. Her hand now felt slippery because of the blood. There she griped the glass shard even harder trying not to lose the only way to escape. She bit her lower lips to draw away the sharp sensation on her hands. She only managed to cut one, and currently trying to cut the second layer of rope.
And then shrieking and roaring, followed by the sound of an automatic rifle. Claire quickened her effort to cut the last layer, she took no heed about the pain anymore. The mattress underneath her working hands was soaked with her blood. She heard shuffling steps from outside. The moment she set her hand free, she dropped to the floor sideways in a rush.
She did not know whether she started to hallucinate when she heard commanding whispers in English. A piece of glass stabbed her thigh when she quickly grabbed her handgun and pointed at the metal door. The door busted open, she was so grateful that the light of the room gave enough illumination to differentiate her ally and the enemy.
"FRIENDLY!" Claire hollered from the top of her lungs so her voice could be heard by the people in front of her.
Marco instinctively brushed his index finger away from the trigger. He muttered under his breath, "Jesus Christ."
With the gun still in hand, Claire managed to put her hands up to display her surrender. Her breathing was rough from the adrenaline rush that mixed with apprehension and fear. The blood trickled down to her forearms. She saw other two men with the same military fatigue enter the already cramped prison cell.
"You can start by lowering your weapon first.", said Marco, he could see the infrared laser dot on her chest.
Claire complied placing her gun to the holster. She let out a whimper as carelessly pulled the piece of glass that was stabbing her thigh. She was lucky the puncture was superficial. Remembering Havardville, this felt so familiar. She nudged her ankle, "Right, help me with this."
Setting aside his rifle, Marco took out his combat knife and cut the rope on her leg. At the same time, the Redhead grabbed the magazines that were left by the small table. Mendoza guarded the door while Taggert was ready to address the Redhead after both of them screened the room from any hidden hostiles.
"You-"
Taggert could not finish his sentences when the Redhead got up and ran past them towards the door. The was no hesitation, therefore her confidence baffled both of them.
Standing by the corridor, Claire overlooked at pandemonium that unfolded in the courtyard with grimness and terror. Claire's voice was breathless and sounded small in between the sound of chaos below.
"Oh God..."
Joining her in the corridor with the other two teammates, the first came to Marco's mind was Ripley was right.
FUCK!
The package be damned. The five Delta Force operators came to realize that their mission has become mortally fucked as they were trapped in the specter of a cannibalistic bloodbath. This was their first encounter. And it was a bleak hope of surviving the darkest night of their lives.