Chapter Nine
Mark's POV
The air was freezing cold and it smelled of dead meat. I could not see anything , but I could tell that it was a cold room. A room used to store frozen foods. Now, it has become my own prison.
I tried to remember what had happened prior to me sitting down in an unknown location, blindfolded. All I could remember was the searing pain at the back of my head before I blacked out. The imposter policeman must have hit me with the butt of his gun as I entered his car. So, how long has it been since then? One hour? Two hours? Yet, I had not heard anything from anyone.
"Hello!" I called out. "Who is there?" I kept on yelling, but I got no response.
I tried to use my other senses to get an idea of my environment, but the throbbing headache was numbing my focus.
Suddenly I heard quick steps. Heavy ones. There were two people, but the other person stopped halfway, while the other one was coming at me briskly. The steps felt heavier by the second. He must be a very plump person or he was carrying something quite heavy.
Splash! My skin shriveled in response to the cold liquid poured on my body. Water! The person was carrying water. It was freezing cold and I tried not to show it, but my body failed me. I could hear laughter as the blindfold was removed from my eyes.
"Still think you're a big, strong man, jefe?" I heard a familiar voice. It was the junkie cop that approached me in my house earlier today.
I still could not open my eyes fully. The entire room was full of bright light. Whoever was in charge here is not a novice in the game of torture. He was already making the environment very impossible for me even before asking questions. Any normal person will begin to spill his deepest, darkest secrets before being asked. But I know what all these are about. And I cannot afford to fail her now.
"What do you want?" I barked at the silhouette standing before me. My eyes were still trying to accommodate the light, but I doubt if I will ever fully be able to get used to it.
"What do I want? I just want you to get comfortable, my man. Are you comfortable, my man?" I could perceive the horrid stench of marijuana as he came closer to me.
"Well, I would be more comfortable if you stayed a few feet away. Your breath stinks." I grinned at him knowing I would only aggravate him the more.
The lout chuckled as he walked a few feet away. I could guess what was coming next. He gathered full momentum and landed a winning strike on my left cheek. At last! I could feel some physical pain. The slap really sting my cheek and I knew that it was going to leav, e a mark there.
"It's enough, Felix!" The other guy at the end of the white room commanded.
"Our guest is not yet comfortable. I'm only trying to make him comfortable." He sniffed like a rabid wolf.
"It's still too early to start hitting him. We need to set the mood for the boss." The calm guy added. He started walking towards me. I still had no idea how to escape, so I knew that I needed to stall.
"So, I want to believe that you are waiting for your boss, right? Before he comes, can you tell me what the fuck I'm doing here?" I demanded.
"You're a strong man, Mark Todd. Well, I expected nothing less from a war veteran. Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Roberto Gonzalez. But you can call me Mr. Nice Guy. I will be your… masseuse till the boss gets here." He smiled in a way that you will know that he is no nice guy at all.
"I will be a great host to you as long as you are a great guest, si?" He flashed his brown teeth at me.
"What am I here for?" I asked. He hesitated before he answered me.
"Do you by chance want to tell me why you are interested in my boss? And do you want to tell me where the photos and videos are?" He asked, with his smile giving you a different threat.
"Your boss? Photos and videos? Who's your boss? I think I would prefer it if I spoke to your boss." I feigned ignorance.
He sighed at my response.
"I know it's still too early. I know that you're not yet comfortable and you'll still need a special kind of attention before you spill. Eventually, everyone always talks. So, I think you need more time to get… acquainted with your new found home. You and I will get to be very good friends, I can tell. We will have so much fun together." He did not sound pissed at all. He walked towards the door and as he was about to shut the door, he turned around and looked at me.
"By the way, are you a fan of music? I find it soothing and I know that you will enjoy this music as you think carefully about the questions that I have presented to you."
Immediately he shut the door, the speakers in the room blared heavy metal music in my ears. I was strapped to the chair and I could not cover my ears. My ear drums vibrated that I feared that it would burst. My heart beat rose and I felt like crouching in the corner of the room for some form of comfort.
I was in the middle of chaotic rhythmless music strapped to a cold chair and wet clothes, in freezing temperatures. The physical part of the torture had not begun yet and I could feel my mind shattering. I know that no matter how much they tortured me, I had to protect her identity. It makes no sense to risk my life for someone I barely know, but I felt responsible for her. I just know that I'm supposed to protect her at all costs. It doesn't matter whether we meet again or not, they must never know who took the photos and videos.
I always asked myself why I had to go through military training if I was to even up being a cab driver in Los Angeles. Maybe this is how fate designed it. Maybe the six months training in the cold beach of Santa Monica and the one year tour in Iraq was for the sole purpose of this. Maybe destiny has designed me to be the guardian angel of the mystery woman I met in the cab. She may never know that while she is enjoying the comfort of Singapore, her knight in shining armour is in a deep cold room of torture, holding on to her secret all for the sake of love.