Page 5 of Enemy of the State

After being silently denied a loo, I made one in the corner of my cell. Certainly not ideal, but it’s not as though I had other options. I have to assume that’s what the small drain, no bigger than my palm carved into the floor of the corner, was for anyway. I’ve just finished relieving myself—adding to the grotesque smell of this hellhole thatI have yet to acclimate to—when a soldier I’ve never seen before appears in front of my cell, sans meal. The music covers any additional noises, so his approach was silent, which only irritates me.

Without giving away my vexation, I wink at him. “Well, hello. Nice of you to join me. I’d offer you tea, but I seem to be having some supply chain issues. Perhaps I should take that up with management.”

His face is covered by a mouthless mask that extends down his neck, but I watch something that looks like amusement cross his exposed frosty green eyes, though it’s gone in a flash. I cock an eyebrow as he pulls keys from his pocket and leans close to the wall next to my cell, just out of sight. I deduce that he’s either using a retinal or fingerprint scanner because I hear a faintclick,followed by him sliding the key into the lock and opening my cell.

My eyes track over his body, taking inventory of the assault rifle strapped across his back, the Glock holstered at his hip, and the tactical knives at his waist and his thigh. His assessing gaze combined with the fluidity in which he moves tells me this dude isn’t some theater puppet. He would notice if I slid the knife from the sheath at his thigh, though I’m still tempted to try it. The only thing that stops me is the coldness behind his stare that warns me he would have no problem embedding it in my chest. Reminding myself to behave, I keep my twitchy hands at my sides.

With a politeness I forgot I possessed, I offer him my wrists, and he snaps on the cold iron cuffs. The chain is long and drags on the floor between my legs.

He takes a step backwards and holds the door open for me. I smile at my escort—captor—and chime, “How chivalrous of you.”

“Move,” he orders gruffly, jerking his head toward the other end of the hallway.

I take in my surroundings as we walk, evaluating the number of cells we pass—seven—and the fact that four of them are empty. It seems I’m the only woman, and the way the men in the other cells leer and spit vitriol like poison darts as I pass tells me they haven’tseen the female species in alongtime. None of them say anything I haven’t heard before, but what I do notice is the varying ethnicities and accents of the three men jeering. One of them is clearly a Scotsman, another is from a Spanish-speaking place, but since my Spanish is shit, I’m not sure where he’s from specifically. I pass an American next—from somewhere in the northeast, if I had to guess—and the last cell is empty, but the door is open, leading me to believe that it’s usually occupied and its resident is simply absent.

Knowledge is power, Lou. You never know what might be useful.My brother’s advice from years ago slithers into my mind as clearly as if he were here with me.

At the end of the hallway, there are several more masked guards armed to the teeth, and I can’t help but smile broadly at the realization that this is all for me. Fuck, I’ve always been a slag for attention.

I follow the line of the soldiers to the right and down another corridor. I make a final right, then the guard at my back brings me to a stop in front of a substantial metal door that’s standing wide open.

Inside, I’m led to a metal table and made to sit in the accompanying chair. It’s a standard interrogation set-up, and I get comfortable knowing that I’ll probably be here for a while. The guard secures the chain dangling between my bare feet to a bolt in the floor and the shackles between my wrists are secured to the top of the table.

When the soldier leaves, he shuts the door behind him with abang,and I’m left here alone. There’s no music in this room, and I breathe easily while I take in my surroundings.

The first thing I astutely realize is that I’m being watched. The red light on the camera in the upper left-hand corner of the room blinks at me. I wink in the direction of the silent witness.Smile, little sis, you’re on candy camera, my brother teases me in my head, and I suppress the urge to laugh, the maniacal sound tingling on my tongue.

The second thing I notice is that the room is about five times larger than my living quarters, with three long shelves thatline the expansive wall across from me. Tools of varying shapes, sizes, and types are displayed tauntingly. Next to the shelves is a floor-to-ceiling metal cabinet that looks more like a large locker. The doors are closed, so I have to use my imagination as to its contents. Unfortunately for me, I’ve always been too creative for my own good.

To my left, there’s a door leading to God-knows-where. To my right, there’s a metal table with hinges and levers placed strategically throughout, likely meant to transform the tabletop into whatever configuration the wielder has in mind.

I close my eyes for a moment and take a breath, the faint scent of disinfectant reaching me. Additionally, the air in this room is much drier, and I relax into the more temperate, hospitable conditions.

In the next blink, the door swings open violently. I don’t flinch, despite being slightly startled by the abrupt noise. I was prepared to sit here alone for far longer, being made to “sweat it out.”

I stare at the two brawny men consuming the doorway. Casually, as if I don’t have a single care in the world—and in some ways, I don’t—I smirk at them.

My eyes first meet those of my meal-time soldier boy, and I shoot him a playful wink.

He only huffs, but I still appreciate that he found me amusing, even if he won’t admit it. He and his mate are clad in the same dusty, olive-colored mesh masks that are, apparently, standard-issue around here. In the full light of the room, I’m privy to his eyes the color of warm honey. I bet he has a nice smile, too, one that matches those pretty eyes, and I vow to make him pull that mask off and smile for me at some point.

The soldier to the right of Honey Eyes is dressed identically—in tan camo tactical trousers, a tight olive-green t-shirt, and army-issued camel-hued combat boots. They’d be hard to tell apart if it weren’t for this guy’s additional few inches of height and the fact that the skin around his eyes is a paler sandy color. Asuntanned glow seems to have kissed his skin, which has me wondering if he got it wherever we are right now. I assumed we were somewhere warm and tropical based on the humidity and damp, moldy air in this place and his suntan confirms that.

When he narrows his gaze under my scrutiny, I notice that his are a silvery greyish-blue shade. The color of a thunderstorm rolling in, the color of the London sky in November, the color of a blade.

Despite wanting to, I can’t seem to look away from this man as if something…otherworldlyis forcing my gaze to remain fixed on him.

Like that feeling when you’re pumping gas in the winter or brushing your hair and you know before it even happens that the thick static is going to shock you? That’s what’s happening. I can sense the electrical charge in the air, though I know that if I touch it, it’ll sting.

He and Honey Eyes stalk farther into the room and shut the heavy door behind them, sealing the three of us in here together. A savage smile inches its way across my mouth at my realization that these two boys have no bloody idea who they locked themselves in a room with. Just because I don’t plan on snuffing the light from their eyes today doesn’t mean I couldn’t if I wanted to, even chained to a chair.

Seemingly unphased, the two men drag the chairs back from the table across from me and take their seats.

Remembering what I overheard one of the men say in the transport van, I lean back in my uncomfortable chair, extending my arms before me fully.

I simper, addressing the one with silver eyes. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Digs.”

The masked man cocks his head ever-so-slightly, but his steely eyes give away nothing, though there’s a pregnant pause that hangs over the room before he speaks.

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