TWISTED PATH (Episode 7)
By Oluwafunminiyi Komolafe
When the veil covering Fatima’s vision was lifted, she found herself in a small room furnished with only two chairs opposite each other and separated by a table. Two men stood before her, one was hefty and masculine with the other a little stout. The stout man set his briefcase on the table and sat on the chair opposite her.
“Hi Fatima, my name is Clement and the gentleman over here is named Yakubu.” The stout man introduced.
“There is no cause for alarm, I just have a few questions to ask you.” He continued.
“Let’s start with this, who do you work for?” He asked.
Fatima was confused with the question but decided to answer it anyway.
“I work as an intern at the State teaching hospital.” She replied.
The stout man smiled and brought out a file from his briefcase.
“Don’t let us beat around the bush, I already have your file here. You and I know all these are a cover story. Spare me some time and tell me which terrorist organization you are working for.” He asked again.
“No am not a terrorist, I was only trying to save a man’s life.” She answered.
The man stood up, packed the file into his briefcase.
“It seems diplomacy isn’t your strong suit after all. I will leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Yakubu. I believe he speaks a language you can easily understand.” He left the room with his briefcase and waited behind the closed door.
It was Fatima’s wailing that proved Yakubu’s proficiency at the art of pain to Clement. He waited for the pain to last a few minutes before entering the room again. As soon as Yakubu saw him, he stopped what he was doing. Within the short period Fatima spent with Yakubu, he had designed her face with all sorts of patterns.
“Am sure you will be more than willing to tell me what I want to know now,” Clement said.
Pain from the wounded cheeks shoots through her brain as she tried to speak.
“I don’t know anything, please have mercy on me.” She begged.
Clement signaled Yakubu to continue with his work and he watched as Fatima was being battered. She couldn’t receive much of the beating before losing her consciousness.
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Abeeb watched through the CCTV as Mohammed slept peacefully in his isolated chamber. How could the agency give this sort of hospitality to a terrorist who has murdered lots of innocent souls? He had sought permission from his boss to extract valuable Intel from him but the permission had been denied. His boss had insisted on conducting a psychological evaluation for him before conducting any Interrogation.
Dr. Akpan, the agency’s top psychologist soon came and he was shown to the room where Mohammed was kept. The psychological evaluation took more than thirty minutes and when the Doctor was done, he submitted his report to the director.
Abeeb stood before the director awaiting the order to go question, Mohammed.
“Agent Abeeb, Dr. Akpan has submitted the result of his evaluation. It turned out Mohammed is truly having amnesia.” The director informed.
“Sir, this guy is a well-trained terrorist, he is definitely playing us. Just give me some time with him.” Abeeb said.
“Are you trying to say, Dr. Akpan, is no longer capable?” The director asked.
“No sir but it sounds unbelievable sir,” Abeeb replied.
“You need to keep your emotion in check agent.” The director barked.
“According to the doctor, it may take a few weeks or months before he would regain his memory.” The man continued.
“Sir time is not a luxury we can afford, there could be another attack anytime.” Abeeb pestered.
“What other choice do we have? Tell me.” Director shouted at him.
“Am sorry sir.” He apologized before being dismissed out of the office.