Who: Ehren (narrative) What: Detainment and questioning. (June prompt) When: Late afternoon into early evening, June 27,2019 Where: Government holding cell Rating: Mild Status: Complete
It started with an assignment, a government employee by the name of Leslie Matheson was the target. The object of the assignment was simple. Interact with her enough times to try and see what she could be up to in the future. Intel had suggested that she was working on projects that could negatively impact the living conditions on the island and Ehren needed to see if the project would succeed.
The first time they’d met, Ehren bumped into her, a sly way to get a few words in as an initial interaction. This time, he had to hold her attention long enough to get a sense of her. Today she was eating lunch in the marketplace when he approached her. He hadn’t even gotten a single word out when he felt something hit the back of his head and watched as his vision blurred.
When he woke up again he didn’t know what time it was and he found himself in a brightly lit room on a small, uncomfortable bed. He had to squint his eyes for a minute to adjust to the sudden brightness and sat up from the bed. In the center of the room was a table and two chairs facing each other. A one way mirror sat on the far wall and cameras were set up on every corner of the ceiling.
He stood, cautiously making his way to the table and sitting in one of the chairs. He was being detained, that much was clear, but how did they know what he was doing? He didn’t even have a chance to say anything to her before someone hit him on the back of his head with the butt of a gun.
It seemed like hours had passed as he sat in the chair before the sound of the door opening finally got his attention. The person who entered was NOT Leslie Matheson but a stout man with a curled mustache. He must of been one of those government employees with an assistant or some sort since he didn’t recognize the man.
“Mr. Clemens, do you know why you’re here today?” The man asked as he shuffled some folders onto the table before grunting loudly as he sat, a clear sign of old age.
Ehren shook his head at the man, keeping his gaze on the man in front of him who’d just set out a tape recorder. “Would you please say it out loud for the official record?”
“No. I don’t know why I’m here today.” He replied quickly, his gaze never leaving the other man.
The man looked up at Ehren skeptically and took two blown up pictures out of the folder to slide over to him. “We’ve got evidence of you following government employees, twice each, over the course of the last six months.”
Ehren didn’t breathe a word, he couldn’t. He needed to know where this was going before he could begin to know what to say.
“The question we have, Mr. Clemens, is why are you following these people?” They had nothing, he realized, no real evidence, only photos of him coincidentally next to a few government employees.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He feigned innocence, “I mean I..I..I..go to the market a lot, I guess but I don’t know any of these people.”
He knew, he knew the names, the history, the faces. They were his targets and it was his job to know them as well as they knew themselves. “I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again. Please.” He begged, which was usually what made them stop. They couldn’t see past his nervous demeanor and any file would state that Ehren had psychological conditions that caused him to be this way.
The man looked at him with sympathetic eyes and let out a groan that could have been “harrumph”. The man stood up with another groan and took the folder with him, waddling as he exited the room.
No explanation, no more questions, just solitude. He wondered how long they’d keep him here or if he’d be able to go back home. It was clear they didn’t have anything but Ehren could still feel his heart beating fast. The last thing he wanted to do was slip into a vision here, where they could see him.
Most people didn’t know what a panic attack but any medical professional would most likely be able to tell the difference.
As the hours grew longer he was beginning to think that maybe they did have some sort of evidence, maybe they saw him with Hannah on the beach, which was only an accident. Who knew what kind of people the government employed. There could be telepaths reading his mind right at this very moment.
He paced around the room, desperately looking at the door each time he imagined someone was about to come in. At first he dreamed they were letting him go and then soon it turned to images of him hooked up to a machine. Then it went to a dark place where they were torturing the information out of him.
Four hours passed when the man returned to the room. “You’re free to go Mr. Clemens.” The man said and opened the door wider so that Ehren could step through the processing area.
This was bad, nothing about this situation could have possibly been anything but.