An unpleasant past

Assad pulls up into the parking area of the police station. He turns off the engines of his red Prius and takes a moment to collect his breath. He nervously bounces the tips of all his fingers on the steering wheel a few times before steeling himself to head out.

As he enters the station, the warm heated interiors are a stark contrast to the outside chilly air. A clean shaven middle aged man in his forties with salt and pepper hair and in an expensive looking suit is the very first person that he sees. Assad immediately recognizes him as the CIA agent, Johnathan Galbraith, who was his handler back in Iraq.

"Assad...is that you?"

"In the flesh...sir."

"Clean shaven look suits you. Kinda like my father back in the day with those trousers and ..."

"Where's the suspect?"

"Right to business? No time for chit-chat with an old friend?"

Assad gets visibly upset at that statement.

"Fine, fine. I deserve the silent treatment. This way..."

John leads Assad down a corridor into the interrogation room. Assad sees another man wearing a similar suit staring at the suspect through the one way mirror. He turns around to address John. "Is this the guy?"

"Yeah. Assad, meet Blake. Blake, Assad" John gestures.

Assad gives a terse nod to Blake who acknowledges him a similar nod.

"Tell me about him, John."

"Mohammad Ghazni. He came in as a refugee into the US but recently we came across evidence that he might have forged his identity to get in."

"Are you sure about the forged identity?"

"Yep. Passport's missing the microprints and embossed lettering." Blake quips.

"How'd you figure that out? Did you raid his place?"

"That's none of your business." Blake says again.

"Honey trap. We bribed his squeeze who gave us his passport. Fuckers pretty pissed about it too."

"I thought this was classified information sir. Why reveal it to a...civilian?"

"Assad is not an ordinary civilian, Blake. And he needs all the context he can get to interrogate our little terrorist."

Assad becomes very quiet.

"Ah shit, I'm sorry Assad. What I meant is..... potential terrorist."

Assad however isn't listening to him. He's busy looking at the man through the one way mirror.

"Do you recognize him Mr. Darwish?" Blake asks as he tries reading the lanky 6 foot tall man.

"I'm almost sure that's Ibrahim Abu Al-Qurashi."

John's eyes lights up at that statement. Blake looks excited as well.

"He's pretty good sir."

"I know. One of our best."

"I no longer belong to you John. And you already knew who he was, so why did you call me?"

"Well we had our suspicions but we didn't really know for sure. You just confirmed it for us."

"I still need to ask him one question to be 100% certain."

"Go ahead, Assad. Through that door. He's chained so no worries about him snapping."

Assad doesn't wait to listen and goes through the door and sits in front of Ibrahim. He may have shaved his beard, but Assad would recognize this vile monster no matter where he went or what he did to his face. It's a miracle that he was able to escape unscathed for so long.

---- Italicized conversation is in Arabic----

"Asalam alaykum." Assad greets him.

"Wa alaykum asalam. Are you a muslim."

__"Yes, I am."

"That is good to know. I'm innocent, brother. You have to convince these American infid... these American agents that they have the wrong man."

Assad doesn't say anything for a good minute or so. Ibrahim was getting visibly uncomfortable.

"Say something brother. You're making me nervous."

__"Do you remember the night you **** Ayesha.... Ibrahim?"

----Arabic conversation ends here-----

Ibrahim's eyes go wide like saucers.

"...Assad?"

"He's the one. I want your permission to kill him, John."

"No no no no no! I'm sorry Assad! Please forgive me! I'm a changed man, I swear! I SWEAR!!"

"Oh! The man speaks English after all!" comes the delighted voice over the speaker.

"Please! I'm a changed man! I swear!"

"Permission to kill him, John..."

"Permission denied. But you do have the permission to beat him within an inch of his life. No killing though." The voice over the speaker says.

"Thanks John. Please release his chains for me."

"Is it a good idea to let him do that sir?"

"Oh sure. Ibrahim deserves it. We'll make up some excuse later about him being violent with his girlfriend and how he got beat up by her ex. It'll be okay. Go release his chains Blake. Let Assad have his vengeance."

Blake is torn for a moment. He wants to follow protocol but at the same time he knows the enormity of the crimes the man has committed. After a few seconds of consideration he opens the door and releases the doomed man's chains. Blake then goes out and closes the door behind him locking the predator and prey inside.

"Please! Please do not leave me in here with this man! American agents please! I yield! Mercy please! Mercy! He will kill me! Please! Ple.." The rest of his pathetic cry for help is cut short as Assad proceeds to give Ibrahim a vicious beatdown.

A short while later.

"Sir, we should stop him."

John does not respond.

"Sir, really, I think this might have gone a bit too far."

No answer.

"SIR!"

"Fine," John presses the intercom button, "Assad, that's enough." Not a moment too soon, Assad stops his **** and walks out of the room. Ibrahim's face is a bloody unrecognizable mess.

The agents both look at the man with bloody hands and face walk out very casually as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Thank you for this, John. I really appreciate it."

"I owed you one, Assad. Hopefully we are equal after this."

"Yes, we are. When will I be receiving my final paycheck from you?"

John takes out an envelope of cash from his inside suit pocket and hands it over to him. Assad takes it and promptly puts it in his trouser pocket.

"See you later, Assad."

Assad gives a curt nod to John and Blake before heading out of the station.

Blake heads into the room to check in on Ibrahim. He puts his fingers on the downed man's neck to feel for pulse.

"He's dead, sir."

"I know."

"I thought you weren't going to let Mr. Darwish kill him."

"I changed my mind. I could've stopped him halfway through but I didn't. Assad took it as implicit acknowledgement to continue and he completed the job."

"What about the evidence, sir? How will we prove his identity with that mess of a face."

"We won't. He's just another dead man of no significance and he has died like the gnat that he is. Nobody will really care now that he is dead. End of story. All we have to do is put his body back into his apartment."

"You got him here, just to have him killed...by Assad?"

"...Maybe. Do you have any problems with that rookie?"

"Will we get caught?"

"Nope. Not if you don't make a stink about a shitty person like him. Will you?"

"I won't. I couldn't care less about the life of a terrorist. What about the cops in this station?"

"I've messaged David from the night shift. He'll help us out with it. Don't worry, I got it all handled. It's all good."

"I hope so sir."