Things Fell Apart

[Cain]

Al-Fadtheel Barracks, Benghazi, Democratic Republic of East Libya

The cell stank of piss, faeces and blood.

I kept my eyes closed.  They had long ago adjusted to the dark, and I'd rather not have to look at my confines.  I couldn't close my nostrils though, unfortunately.

Footsteps sounded, distant at first, but getting closer.  The distorted, echoing confines of this place made it impossible to tell if it was just one person, or more.  The footsteps stopped.  A clink of metal upon metal, a scraping sound, and then rusted hinges, moving far too slowly, opened the door.

I had cleared the sleep from my eyes just in time to see the two guards, before they grabbed me under the arms and dragged me up.  I felt dizzy, the world was spinning around me, but they did not stop to let me adjust, instead pulling me along and down the corridor.  I thought we were going down, rather than up, but I couldn't be sure.  I couldn't always be sure which way was up.

Another door was opened, and I was thrown into a chair.  I slumped, allowing time for the world to stop spinning, then pulled myself up.  It had been a long time since I'd sat in anything so comfortable.  The guards, who I could barely see in this dark room, turned to leave, closing and bolting the door behind them.

A piece of the darkness to the right of me moved, coming around to the front.  A switch was flipped and a lightbulb was turned on, somewhere above me.  It seemed incredibly bright, enough that I had to close my eyes, even though it barely illuminated any of the room beyond the chair I was in.

A man leant forward, just enough for me to distinguish his features.  He was Caucasian, I was somewhat surprised to see.  I'd mostly seen Libyans since I was dumped in here.  Well, I assume they were Libyans.  They sure had a lot of questions, but were surprisingly unwilling to answer mine.  He was looking at me, sizing me up.  I decided to speak first.

"Well, that was certainly...bracing.  Though I've certainly had gentler invitations."  My voice sounded raspier than I remembered.  I could definitely do with a drink.

"I am Agent Nilsen, Central Intelligence Agency."  He continued to look, as if not sure what to make of me.

"Ah, I see."  I had expected this somewhat sooner, to be honest.  Though who could honestly tell how much time had passed in here?  "And what exactly do you want intelligence about?"

"HIMEOBS."

Ah, that.  "What's a HIMEOBS?"  Agent Nilsen's face turned a peculiar shade of red at that point.

"Don't mess me around!  You know damn well what I'm talking about!  It's time to start talking, you piece of shit.  I'm told you're quite good at it."

"Maybe I am, at that.  Very well, what do you wish to know?"

"Everything you can tell.  Start at the beginning."

It began in 2015.  After the fall of Kandahar, when the draft was instituted.  Bad times indeed.  It looked like the Taliban were going to do a repeat of 1996, and steal a march on Kabul, making it fall into enemy hands.  The city was already in chaos – suicide bombers had attacked the headquarters of the Amaniyat.  Their director had fled, only to be ambushed by gunmen on motorbikes.  Barracks had been targeted, no-one was really sure where the allegiances of General Dostum lay and the whole thing was a clusterfuck waiting to happen.  The Government had already fled the city, but there was a small problem – their funds remained in the Afghan national bank, and Afghanistan isn't exactly a country where you can carry out wire transfers easily.

So the decision was made that a Special Forces and intelligence team would oversee the emptying of the bank, and the transfer of the funds to Mazar-i-Sharif.  Only, it didn't quite work out like that.  Elements within the Afghan Army, and the Taliban, had already put plans into motion to rob the bank.  The Special Forces/intel team managed to get out of there, but only just, and they had hostiles on their tail halfway up the Salang Pass.  They managed to get the funds to the city...only to be betrayed by elements in the Afghan government, colluding with certain corrupt American intelligence agents.  They took the money and framed the team for the theft, sending them to maximum security military prisons, for a crime they did not commit.

But they escaped.  No-one is sure exactly how.  Or where you can find them now.  But they live as part of the international underground, working as soldiers of fortune.

"Bullshit, that's the plot to the A-Team."  The colour on Nilsen's face had not improved any.

"Does that not match the stories you have heard, Agent?  I am sorry."

"I don't care for stories.  I spent months trying to find which filthy hole those idiots at the Pentagon stashed you in, because I want to know the truth!"

"And what makes you think I'd know about something like that?  Truth's a very precious and rare commodity.  Do you think if I had something like that on me, that I'd be stuck in a place like this?"  I waved my hands around.

"I suggest you stop lying to me.  You were in HIMEOBS, before it even existed.  You were there from the start."

I shrugged.  "Even if I was, I would have no idea where they are now." I smiled.  "In case you haven't noticed, I've been kind of...cut off, during my stay here."

"You idiot, do you have any kind of idea as to what is at stake here?  What is happening?"  Nilsen was looking exasperated now, like a man down to his final dollar in a game of blackjack that just wasn't going his way.

"No.  But I can guess.  Your precious global economy has fallen apart, smashed into an innumerable amount of pieces and put the entire world on the brink of war.  And you want the only people who can help you put it all back together again."

"HIMEOBS was at the heart of it, when it all began.  Maybe you cannot put me in contact with them, but I still need to know everything I can."

"Then you'll need to know the whole story..."

[Doktor Howl]

Oh, FUCK YEAH!

[LMNO]

I have been waiting for Cain to start writing fiction again.  Thanks muchly.

[Adios]

[Dysfunctional Cunt]

Damn Cain this is awesome!!!

Why aren't you doing this to get published man?  You have serious talent.  Somebody has to show Tom Clancy how it's really done!!!!

[Freeky]

WOOWOO! All aboard the awesome train!

[Triple Zero]

Great stuff, Cain Hope you'll continue soon after we're done spamming the first page ITT with praise

[Elder Iptuous]

Praise!
Moar!

[navkat]

I'm a propaFANda!

[Cramulus]

 

[LMNO]

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Awesome!

[Kai]

Finally the HIMEOBS backstory.

[P3nT4gR4m]

Fuck yeah! :infinimittens:

[BadBeast]

This is *------* (Insert appropriate superlative, when language evolves one)