Thanks God's Girl!
Yes they probably do wish that. The manager didn't intend to go out of his way to accommodate them.
Here is another chapter (so soon?!!?)
Finished it last night.
Things will probably start to be more action-y from now on.
Chapter 7
“How are you enjoying our famous cuisine?” Zahl asked. “How does it compare to what you get in America?”
“I can’t think of the last time I had better food,” said Tasha.
Jason could think of several times in the recent past he’d had better, but he said, “Same here.”
“What do you think of your tour?”
“I really enjoyed seeing the capital,” said Tasha. “The buildings, the art—it’s without parallel.”
“Then I hope you will accompany me on a private tour. All of you.”
So he does expect us to go with him to his headquarters, thought Jason. If we refused, it would seem suspicious. I’m just not looking forward to this.
Munroe looked at Elena. “If you want to go home—“
“I’m sure Miss Ford would appreciate a tour of Aleem Center,” said Zahl. “Few have the opportunity to go inside voluntarily.”
“I will come with you,” said Elena, looking at Munroe.
Then they piled back in the car, and Starla took them back to the center square, where she left them with a cheery ‘ta ta’. They filed across the bricks, scattering some pigeons into the air, and then down a cobblestone alley. On the other side of it sat a long low gray building.
“What does ‘Aleem’ mean?” asked Tasha.
“It means ‘clean’,” said Zahl.
“The prisoners call it something else,” said Munroe. “Saldenz.”
“What does that mean?” said Tasha.
“Slaughterhouse,” he answered, deathly pale. He was clutching Elena’s arm, whether for her support or his Jason didn’t know.
Inside the well-lit lobby, Zahl greeted the receptionist, and she saluted him, smiling. Then they turned down a long corridor and followed him down some steps. It got cooler the further down they went. Jason began to wish he’d brought his jacket along; he hadn’t needed it outside. Dread built up inside him; he knew he wouldn’t like what he saw here, and didn’t know if he could hide what he felt.
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Policemen in blue walked by; they saluted Zahl, who saluted back.
Jason had been half-expecting some dank dungeon, but it was just as clean and well-lit as upstairs, if colder. Beyond the large courtyard they stepped into, there was hallway upon hallway of stainless steel doors, as far as Jason could see. Guards paced up and down each hallway like mechanical men.
“This is the part of the nation few Muldavians see,” said Zahl. “Many pretend it doesn’t exist. I think it’s important that your readers know it exists, because it is necessary. You can’t have your head in the clouds and act like the march toward communism is going to be all flowers and candy. At times it’s going to be harsh and ugly, because there is so much refuse that must be torn from society before it can be purified.”
“That sounds a lot like Nazi Germany,” said Jason.
Zahl looked at him sharply. “The Germans were right about one thing. Undesirable elements must be purged before a nation can emerge into its ideal state. And they did it right, too: efficiently. As you can see, I have striven for efficiency here.”
“My father fought against the Nazis,” said Munroe. “I don’t see why you felt the need to bring back many of the things he fought against.”
“Your father also fought against Von Warberg. Doctor Munroe was one of the undesirable elements, no matter how heroic he may have been during the war. He and your mother defended the King, which amounted to treason. Last time you were here, you affirmed that treason does not run in your family. You are not thinking of recanting your statement, are you?”
Munroe shook his head.
“Good. I’d hate to have to put you back in one of these cells, after all the trouble we both went through last time.” He smiled, touched Munroe’s arm in a friendly gesture. Munroe flinched away.
“Come, now, Josiah. We’re on the same side. Can’t you put the past behind?”
“You can hardly blame him after what you did to him,” said Elena.
“And just what did I do to him?”
She looked at Munroe; he lifted his arm, pulled back his sleeve. Welts wound around his arm, as if he had been burned repeatedly by a hot iron.
He tugged his sleeve back down, face flushed.
“There is a lot more, in case you don’t remember.” Her blue eyes flashed.
“I remember very well. Every burn, every cut, every scream. He never said a word against his parents, but neither did he betray his party. The most amazing part to me is that he maintained his composure. Most would have been reduced to babbling fools under such treatment.”
“Why did you target him in the first place?” Jason asked, barely able to conceal his outrage.
“I would think that would be obvious. Treason is often a family disease. I wasn’t sure what the timeline and motivation was for their son’s loyalty; I had to make sure, since he was in a position of influence.”
“Why did it have to be so harsh?”
“I always thought that was because I was Jewish,” said Munroe.
“It’s true that many of the Jewish people fought against us, but the more intelligent of them sided with us in the first place. They saw that we were their best hope for the future; the opposite of the Nazis who persecuted them. No, the harshness of the interrogation had to do with his past, and certain suspicious circumstances which have since been cleared up.
“Besides,” he said, looking at Elena, “if he is the good communist he claims to be, he should understand that with his personal history, it’s only natural I would interrogate him. We have both done our duty for our country. Unless, of course, he is a traitor under all that ostensible loyalty. In which case, the next time I get him in here, he won’t come back out.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t defend him then, Elena.”
“O-of course not.” She looked down.
“Because I’d hate to mar that incomparable skin.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips. She yanked it away.
He grabbed her wrist, pressing into it.
Jason stepped forward. “That’s enough.” He grasped Zahl’s arm.
Zahl, an inch shorter than Jason, glared up at him, face reddening with anger. “Let go of me.”
“Don’t touch her.”
“This is my domain, and I can do what I like. Let go, now.”
“Cash—“ said Tasha. She touched his shoulder. “It’s not worth it.”
Jason took a breath, and backed away, releasing Zahl’s arm. Only then did he notice five armed guards behind him, ready to intervene at Zahl’s command.
“Stand down,” said the police chief. The guards filed away, shooting suspicious glances at Jason. Zahl tugged his shirt back in place, and looked at Jason coldly. “I hope that was merely the blind chivalry of a callow American boy,” he said. “I will forgive you this once.”
“It—I just don’t like to see anyone hurt.”
“Especially a beautiful woman. I understand. She’s not hurt, anyway, are you Elena.”
“No,” Elena said, though there were tears in her eyes.
“Now let’s get on with the tour, shall we?” He smiled as if nothing had happened. Tasha gave Jason a withering glance before following Zahl down the first hallway to the left.
Munroe followed her; not before mouthing a “thank you” to Jason as he walked by.
“Are you okay?” said Jason, falling into step beside Elena.
“As I said, I’m fine.”
“Can I—“ He gestured to her hand.
She hesitated, then showed it to him. There was a red mark encircling her wrist.
“It is nothing.”
“No man should touch a woman like that.”
She shook her head. “Zahl can do what he wants. Next to the premier, he’s probably the most powerful man in Muldavia. If I were guilty, he would do a lot worse to me. Besides, if I were guilty, I would deserve it.”
“You don’t really believe that.”
Her blue eyes looked even bigger than normal. “Please, don’t say things like that. Not in here.”
They stopped. Two guards stood beside Zahl, who stepped in front of one of the doors.
“I thought I would show you one of my successes first,” said Zahl. “The end product we strive for here. There are a few kinks to work out, but--” He took the keys from one of the guards and opened the door. “I will let Ariana speak for herself.”
A woman sat there on the bunk, in the brightly lit cell, hair falling in front of her face. She stood as soon as Zahl entered.
“Good evening, Ariana. How are you today?”
“I have been reading the book you gave me. See?” She held up a black book that on first glance Jason thought was a Bible. But then, of course it made no sense that Zahl would give her a Bible.
“Can you tell my friends here what you are learning?”
Ariana turned to them, her brown eyes unnaturally bright, dark circles beneath them. She was pale, probably from being away from sunlight for a long time, and there were signs of fading bruises on her face.
“In this book, we learn that communism is the only way toward peace. It is the only true freedom. All enemies of communism must join us or fall. Karl von Warberg is the one who will lead us to victory.”
“Do you believe this?” asked Zahl.
“With all my heart.”
“What did you believe before?”
“I was an enemy of the state. I believed in rebelling—but how can you rebel against a perfect society? I cannot believe that I was so deluded before; I must have been sick. But here, they have cured me.” She looked at Zahl, and smiled. Jason’s stomach turned over. He couldn’t imagine what must have been done to this woman to turn her to the opposite position of what she had believed before. But of course he had to pretend like it was the best thing that could have happened to her.
“Are you one of us?” she asked them.
“That is why I’m here,” said Jason. “I’m covering this place to show people in America the truth.”
Her smile grew bigger. “I am so happy that you will show them how we live here. Americans need to become like us, or we will do to them what we do to all rebels.” She made a fist, as if ready to take on the Americans singlehandedly. Jason wondered if she really believed this, or if she was agreeing with Zahl to survive. Like Jason was, come to think of it. He wouldn’t escape this place if he voiced his true opinions—which he was dangerously close to doing. Even if he said nothing at all, he was afraid he would blurt out something without thinking.
I have to get out of here, he thought.
“Thank you, Ariana,” said Zahl, and they left her standing there, clutching the book in her hand.
“What was that book?” asked Tasha, falling in step behind Zahl again.
“It is the Tanvarad. Written by Erik von Warberg; continued by his son Karl. You should read it.”
“I would like to.”
“I’ll provide you both a copy before you leave. In English of course. It spells out the superior version of communism.”
“Superior to the Soviet Union?”
“As evidenced by how the Soviets are having problems in areas where we are thriving.”
They walked down another hallway, and Zahl stopped in front of another door. There was a guard here too, waiting for them. He unlocked the door.
It was dark inside, contrasting with the other cell. There was only a dim light in the ceiling. At first, Jason thought there was no one else there, but then something moved in the corner. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that it was a man, chained to the wall, ragged clothes hanging off a skeletal frame. He looked up, though he barely seemed able to lift his head.
“This man, we believe, was a courier between several rebel cells, but so far he has been…unforthcoming. There is almost nothing we haven’t tried with him.”
Zahl stepped forward, grabbed the man’s shaggy dark hair. “Go on, Kellan. Tell them what you believe.”
For a moment, the man didn’t speak. Then he cleared his throat. “I believe—that it is only a matter of time before the tyrant Von Warberg falls.” He gasped, as if it had taken a lot out of him to say that much. But his eyes in the dark hollows carved in his face gleamed with defiance. Jason wondered if it was the only thing keeping him alive.
“I suppose you will be the one to take down our great leader.”
“Not me, but others like me.”
Zahl released him, turned toward Jason and Tasha. “This is what we are up against. But it is only a matter of time before even his conviction wears down. Isn’t that right, Kellan.”
Kellan tried to speak, but he could only cough. Blood spattered the front of his shirt.
Jason fought the urge to leap forward. He wanted to help, but there was nothing he could do.
Nothing but stand there and silently agree with the man who had tortured and was slowly killing this courageous prisoner.
They left the room. Jason felt shaken; he could not have spoken if he wanted to. But Tasha asked, “Isn’t there something you can do for him? He doesn’t look well. He could die before you get the information from him.”
“There is that danger. Our doctor assures us that with a couple days’ rest, building up his hope, we can start crushing it again. Only by crushing it can we give him new hope, like we did with Ariana.”
“You anticipate the same success with Kellan then?”
“If all goes well, yes. I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”
They are tearing their souls from them, thought Jason. We can’t just stand by and let these people endure this. How can Tasha just casually chat with Zahl like this?
It is what I’m supposed to be doing, I suppose, but I don’t trust myself to say anything.
They stopped back in the main courtyard. Zahl spoke to one of the officers, who saluted and disappeared down one of the hallways.
Guards set up folding chairs facing the wall; Jason took the lead, and they all sat down.
Two guards dragged a prisoner forward. He wasn’t thin like Ariana and Kellan; Jason guessed he had only just been brought here.
Blood dripped down the man’s arm onto the cement. The guards dropped him in front of the wall; Zahl strode in front of them, as if stepping onto a stage.
“Tell me where the next rebel attack will be.”
The man attempted to stand, but staggered as his left leg gave way beneath him. He cried out as his knee hit the floor.
“I don’t know about a rebel attack—please, let me go home to my family.”
“You don’t know about an attack. Tell me, isn’t it against the Christian religion to lie?”
“Y-yes, but I’m not lying.”
“Another lie. What was your next target?”
“You are targeting me because I am a Christian.”
“At least you admit what you are. I thought we’d stamped out the last of your poisonous beliefs years ago, but you keep popping up. Sometimes I think we’ll never be rid of you.”
“Believing in God doesn’t make me an enemy of the state. I support some of your ideas in theory- it’s just in practice that—“ He gestured toward the row upon row of cells. “Places like this shouldn’t exist.”
“Do you believe in Von Warberg?”
“Well—“
“Do you or don’t you?”
“He is not God. You have treated him like a god for too long.” The man attempted to stand again; he grasped one of the metal rings on the wall, and stood.
“He is a better god than a nonexistent one. One who cannot help you, no matter how loud you scream his name.”
The man seemed to shrink against the wall. “Even if I did know about these rebels, I wouldn’t betray them.”
“All I needed to hear.” Zahl snapped his fingers. The guard at his side stepped to the stairway; said one word Jason didn’t recognize.
Another guard came down, holding something in his arms. As he emerged into the light at the bottom of the stairs, Jason could see that it was a child, a blindfold over her eyes and a gag in her mouth.
The guard set the girl down in front of the man; he hopped forward, and collapsed beside her. “Tanya!”
He took the blindfold and gag off, and gathered the little girl in his arms. She sobbed. “Papa, papa, they came to our house and took me away. I was so scared!”
“It’s okay, now, sh, my baby girl. My Tanya.” Tears streamed down his face.
Then, a group of guards marched forward. They tore him away from his daughter as she screamed for him. He tried to fight them but one punched him in the face and they handcuffed him to the ring in the wall.
Another guard dropped the little girl back onto the floor; she whimpered as if with pain. Jason moved to get up; Tasha grabbed his arm, pulled him back down. He glared at her; she shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
I can’t just sit here, thought Jason. No one with any amount of decency could let this go on—the mission isn’t worth this. If there was a way to get out with our lives—He looked at the nearest guard’s sidearm. I could take it before he knew what was happening, aim it at Zahl, take him hostage, get them and us out of here—
At Zahl’s nod, the guard stood in the center, took out his pistol. Aimed it at Tanya.
Elena stood. “This is enough,” she said. “A child should not be targeted, no matter what the parent has done.” Her blonde hair looked like a golden halo from an icon as she stood there, fists clenched at her sides.
“Perhaps you should leave if you don’t like what you see here. Take Munroe outside; he looks about to pass out.”
“I will not let you do this.” She stepped in front of the mouth of the pistol. “You will have to shoot me.”
“I am beginning to wonder, my dear, whose side you are on.”
“So am I.”
Zahl nodded to the guards. “Take her.”
Munroe, who had been nearly catatonic, leaped to his feet. “No.” He grabbed her arm, pulled her away from the gun. “Take me instead. Take me back to my old cell—anything.”
“To save her, would you hurt this man’s daughter?”
Munroe didn’t move.
“I thought not. Guards, take these two outside. They are unnecessary distractions.”
Five guards came, three for Munroe, two for Elena, and forced them toward the stairway, herding them up the stairs and out of view.
“There,” said Zahl. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way.” He took his pistol from his belt, and handed it to Jason.
Jason took it, its cold skin against his palm.
“If you are the true communist you say you are, you will pull the trigger.”
Jason stood, shakily. He looked down at the girl curled up at his feet. In one swift motion, barely knowing what he was doing, he knelt beside her. Took her small trembling form into his arms, and stood.
Aimed his gun at Zahl. “You will have to go through me to get to her.”
Zahl motioned to the guard next to him, who took the pistol from his holster, and aimed it at Jason’s heart.
I couldn't stop reading! Well done!
Goodness Ameraka, I couldn't tear my eyes from the screen! *agrees with GG* NEEDS chapter 8.... (Just a side note, when Zahl calls Tasha "Miss Forbs", I thought they were still under false names.. But I could be wrong) 