Under Siege - Chapter 1
A team of Israeli Soldiers are sent to Chechnya to shut down Hamas terrorist cell operating in chechnya. Lance- Corporal Kalila Levi and Corporal Koen Ben-Zvi are Interrogating a suspected Hamas operative trying to get the location of one of their training camps.
A/N:
I hope you enjoy this first chapter, it might not be that great but I'm working on it.
******
He sat.
Bound to the chair in front of me, sweating, twitching and avoiding eye contact.
He tapped his fingers against the side of the chair. His head twitched sideways and then back towards me.
The lines in his face were etched with dirt, his eyes were dull and looked lifeless.
For one moment I felt sorry for him, for one moment I wanted to let him go, I wanted to tell him to run and never come back.
Under that little urge of sorrow, there was that rising sense of hatred. That hatred made me want to snap him neck, I wanted him to suffer but no amount of torture could make him feel what I feel right at this moment.
So far I had been sitting here, watching him for an hour.
He was good at hiding his emotions, his fears, his lies.
But there was one thing he wasn't good at.
Staying awake which wasn't much help to us at all.
If he fell asleep it would be my head getting chopped off
or worse although I don't really know what was worse than getting your head cut off.
Corporal Koen Ben-Zvi was propping up a wall on the other side of the -- room, I suppose I could call it a room. He hadn't taken his eyes off the man bound to the chair. He looked calm and relaxed, like someone who had just spent the weekend away and was well rested. For some reason this didn't seem to bother him. This man bound to the chair didn't seem to bother him not one bit.
I know it bothered me.
It didn't bother me too much.
Actually come to think of it now -- it didn't bother me at all.
Koen pushed himself off the wall and walked towards our suspect. Calm, cool, collected or so he looks who knows what's going on inside that mind of his. I followed him with my eyes, the file he had in his hand was now slammed onto the silver table in front of him.
"Quin Koehler" Koen sat on the chair.
"Quin Koehler, 26 years of age, born in Iraq"
Iraq go figure.
Koen paused and looked at me, then back to Koehler
"Attended university at Oxford in England"
he got up and handed the file to me.
"Came to Israel very soon after you graduated"
"You don't need to tell me my own life story" Koehler remarked
"Now tell me why did you head here to Israel?"
Koehler shrugged "Israel -- Israel just appealed to me I guess the sights, the sounds, the lights"
"Lights?" I folded my arms.
"Lights the city of lights festival in Jerusalem"
I rolled my eyes "I'm not stupid I have lived in Israel my entire life" I said "why not just go home to Iraq?"
"I told you Israel appealed to me"
He sounded convincing this was going to be a long interrogation
"Ever lived in Israel? I mean apart from now?" Koen asked
"No"
"Family in Israel?"
"Some"
This guy had an answer for everything, he had an attitude, he reminded me of my brother Ari, he was a smart ass and could get away with murder, although I don't think he would try it he is to comfortable with his job as a firefighter.
Koen paused for a moment a -- very long moment.
"Some? or none?"
"My sister moved to Israel"
"Load of bullshit" I walked towards him.
Koehler started to death glare me, he looked yet again from Koen to me, Koen was getting frustrated he wanted to go home, so did I.
It had been a long day, and it was going to be even longer if we didn't get any answers out of him soon. I was getting agitated, the heat was getting to me and so was being locked in a room with this dimwit, and by dimwit I meant Koehler.
"Where is the terrorist cell?"
'What terrorist cell?"
"Oh - fuck it don't play stupid with me Koehler you know perfectly well what cell, I'm talking about, Rivik. Where is he?"
I was gripping the arms of the chair.
More sweat was running down his face, his eyes were cold.
"Now I'm going to ask you one more time." I took a deep breath "where is he?" I reached for my gun. I wanted an answer and I wanted one now.
Koehler startled, brilliant, just what I needed.
Now I had the gun resting at his temple
"Where is he?"
All signs of confidence and smugness from Koehler's face had been erased. A terrorist afraid of a gun? He wasn't much of a operative then was he?
"Chechnya"
Wait hold on a minute, a Hamas terrorist training cell, in Chechnya?
"Are you sure?"
"P-positive"
Chechnya, Chechnya it is then.
I hope you enjoy this first chapter, it might not be that great but I'm working on it.
******
He sat.
Bound to the chair in front of me, sweating, twitching and avoiding eye contact.
He tapped his fingers against the side of the chair. His head twitched sideways and then back towards me.
The lines in his face were etched with dirt, his eyes were dull and looked lifeless.
For one moment I felt sorry for him, for one moment I wanted to let him go, I wanted to tell him to run and never come back.
Under that little urge of sorrow, there was that rising sense of hatred. That hatred made me want to snap him neck, I wanted him to suffer but no amount of torture could make him feel what I feel right at this moment.
So far I had been sitting here, watching him for an hour.
He was good at hiding his emotions, his fears, his lies.
But there was one thing he wasn't good at.
Staying awake which wasn't much help to us at all.
If he fell asleep it would be my head getting chopped off
or worse although I don't really know what was worse than getting your head cut off.
Corporal Koen Ben-Zvi was propping up a wall on the other side of the -- room, I suppose I could call it a room. He hadn't taken his eyes off the man bound to the chair. He looked calm and relaxed, like someone who had just spent the weekend away and was well rested. For some reason this didn't seem to bother him. This man bound to the chair didn't seem to bother him not one bit.
I know it bothered me.
It didn't bother me too much.
Actually come to think of it now -- it didn't bother me at all.
Koen pushed himself off the wall and walked towards our suspect. Calm, cool, collected or so he looks who knows what's going on inside that mind of his. I followed him with my eyes, the file he had in his hand was now slammed onto the silver table in front of him.
"Quin Koehler" Koen sat on the chair.
"Quin Koehler, 26 years of age, born in Iraq"
Iraq go figure.
Koen paused and looked at me, then back to Koehler
"Attended university at Oxford in England"
he got up and handed the file to me.
"Came to Israel very soon after you graduated"
"You don't need to tell me my own life story" Koehler remarked
"Now tell me why did you head here to Israel?"
Koehler shrugged "Israel -- Israel just appealed to me I guess the sights, the sounds, the lights"
"Lights?" I folded my arms.
"Lights the city of lights festival in Jerusalem"
I rolled my eyes "I'm not stupid I have lived in Israel my entire life" I said "why not just go home to Iraq?"
"I told you Israel appealed to me"
He sounded convincing this was going to be a long interrogation
"Ever lived in Israel? I mean apart from now?" Koen asked
"No"
"Family in Israel?"
"Some"
This guy had an answer for everything, he had an attitude, he reminded me of my brother Ari, he was a smart ass and could get away with murder, although I don't think he would try it he is to comfortable with his job as a firefighter.
Koen paused for a moment a -- very long moment.
"Some? or none?"
"My sister moved to Israel"
"Load of bullshit" I walked towards him.
Koehler started to death glare me, he looked yet again from Koen to me, Koen was getting frustrated he wanted to go home, so did I.
It had been a long day, and it was going to be even longer if we didn't get any answers out of him soon. I was getting agitated, the heat was getting to me and so was being locked in a room with this dimwit, and by dimwit I meant Koehler.
"Where is the terrorist cell?"
'What terrorist cell?"
"Oh - fuck it don't play stupid with me Koehler you know perfectly well what cell, I'm talking about, Rivik. Where is he?"
I was gripping the arms of the chair.
More sweat was running down his face, his eyes were cold.
"Now I'm going to ask you one more time." I took a deep breath "where is he?" I reached for my gun. I wanted an answer and I wanted one now.
Koehler startled, brilliant, just what I needed.
Now I had the gun resting at his temple
"Where is he?"
All signs of confidence and smugness from Koehler's face had been erased. A terrorist afraid of a gun? He wasn't much of a operative then was he?
"Chechnya"
Wait hold on a minute, a Hamas terrorist training cell, in Chechnya?
"Are you sure?"
"P-positive"
Chechnya, Chechnya it is then.
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