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Irina woke to the sound of her cell door opening with a creak. There was a guard standing in the doorway, looking down over her. "Morning already...?" Irina found herself mumbling. A metal bench wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep. She had woken up several times the night before and her back was now very stiff.
"Afraid so," the guard said plainly. He approached the still-prone Irina with a pair of handcuffs, which he quickly snapped about her wrists. "Let's get up." He yanked her up by her arms. Once she was standing, he produced a hood of the same type that was used during her transportation to the prison. She tried to squirm her head away, but he placed it over her head and secured it tightly. Grabbing her by the arm, she led her out of the cell.
Irina's bare feet were stubbed against the concrete floor more than once as he tugged her around several corners and through a few metal doors. After clumsily descending a long flight of stone stairs, Irina was brought through two more metal doors before the guard brought her to a stop. He let her go, and she heard him turn to leave, slamming a door behind him.
"H... hello?" Irina asked, wondering if she was alone. Her question was answered as her handcuffs were unfastened and her hood was abruptly pulled off. She found herself standing in a room, perhaps ten feet on a side. The floor was bare concrete, and the walls were made of ageing cinder blocks. The left wall contained a mirror -- presumably a one-way mirror that allowed viewers from the other side of the wall to witness the interrogation. In the back of the room were two metal cabinets and a chest; immediately before her was a wooden table behind which a middle-aged military man sat.
"Please, Shumeyko, have a seat," the man said as he pointed towards a chair on her side of the table. Irina apprehensively walked towards the table and sat down. She noticed that there were two armed guards in the room -- the one who removed her handcuffs and hood, and another who stood against the door.
"You should know that you are potentially in quite a bit of trouble," the interrogator said sternly. "Attempting to injure or kill our soldiers is taken care of most harshly." He pulled out a tablet computer and began to use it as he spoke. "But you know... you are a nice girl -- no criminal record, steady employment. I don't know how you got tangled up in the rebellion. But if you are cooperative, we might be able to work something out. So why don't you be helpful and tell me everything you know."
Irina's mind raced. She hadn't ever been prepared for an interrogation. Was he telling the truth? She couldn't betray her newly made friends among the rebels after getting caught on her first assignment. Their lives would be on her hands if they were caught! But how could they be so amateurish, sending her so unprepared on a potentially dangerous mission? She concluded that she would try her hand at a lie. After all, it's not like it was something they could disprove.
"I wasn't doing anything," Irina said as calmly as possible. "I was walking to the store and I saw that, umm, thing laying on the side of the road. I was curious to see what it was, so I bent down to get a closer look and before I knew it, I was swarmed by guards!"
"Interesting story," the interrogator said in a totally unemotional voice. "But tell me, how do you explain this?" He tilted his tablet computer towards her and she was presented with a color picture of her reaching into her handbag. He pressed a button, and there was another picture of her taking the incendiary device out of the handbag. Another picture -- her planting it on the ground. A fourth picture -- her trying to arm the thing.
How could she have been that careless? Was she that obvious that the undercover soldier picked her out before she even planted the device? Why did she get tangled up into this? She had no idea what she was doing! The interrogator stared at her, waiting for an answer.
"Those picture are out of order," Irina said, rambling off what came to her head. She knew it sounded idiotic before she even completed the sentence. "I saw the device on the ground, and I was trying to take it with me -- it looked dangerous. You know? I wanted to take it to the authorities."
"Nice try," the interrogator said, his neutral face turning into a sharp frown. "But I'm not that stupid. Not only were these photographs timestamped, but the soldiers who arrested you said that they found the device on the ground and armed when they arrested you. Explain that?"
"All right! All right!" Irina exploded, sweat starting to form on her brow. "I was planting it, all right!" She still couldn't let him know who her associates were. "I bought the components, you know, black market, and made it!"
"Is that so?" the interrogator said, his face returning to a more neutral look. "Where'd you learn to make the device? Who'd you buy it from? What ingredients were in it?"
"No, no, I bought the device pre-assembled," Irina shot back. "You misunderstood me. I can give you a description of the guy I bought it from if you like, or you can match him up in a database or whatever, you know?"
"Your story isn't convincing me," the interrogator said, his face turning into a frown once more. "Not only can you not make your excuses consistent, but they are also painfully amateurish. Now are you going to cooperate, or are we going to have to make things a little more unpleasant?"
"I swear, I'm telling the truth!" Irina cried. "I don't know what I can say to make you believe me!"
"I think we'll be able to get you to give us a compelling enough explanation," the interrogator said. He looked past Irina towards the back of the room and drummed his middle finger on the table three times. On cue, the two guards in the room holstered their weapons and walked towards Irina, taking positions on either side of her.
"What do you want me to say!?" pleaded Irina. "I told you, I'll let you know what this guy looked like, and where I found him!" The interrogator remained silent as the guards pulled her to her feet and knocked her chair out of the way. One of the guards grabbed her firmly on the shoulders while the other one made his way to the zipper on her jumpsuit. Irina realize what they were going to do and tried to get away, but the first guard's grip was too strong. The second guard zipped open the front of her orange prison uniform, exposing her flesh to the navel. The first then ripped the garment off her arms and quickly pulled it down to her ankles. Other than the orange jumpsuit now bundled around her feet, Irina was once again stripped completely naked in front of hostile agents.
"Stop this!" Irina tried to struggle and kick as one of the guards wrapped his thick arms around her and tried to hold her in place. "What are you monsters doing?!" The second guard walked to a panel on the wall and flipped a switch. Irina heard the turning of a crank and saw a pair of manacles, attached to a chain, dangle down from the ceiling. The guard released his grip and pulled her right arm up into the mancle, closing it tightly around her wrist. He then did the same with her left arm. Irina stood with her hands above her head, unable to cover herself at all.
The second guard flipped the switch again and Irina felt herself pulled off her feet as the chain retracted into the ceiling. Once her feet were a good foot off the floor, the cranking stopped and she hung from the ceiling, swinging slightly.
"You can't do this to me!" Irina said, as she choked back tears that were starting to well up in her eyes. "This is against international treaties! I demand to speak with your superior!"
"My superior is right behind that wall," the interrogator said as he pointed towards the one-way mirror. "If he had a problem, he'd stop me, I'm sure. And for your information, girl, the treaties are only valid if your country signs them. You really should follow the news a little closer -- we withdrew from those treaties nearly a decade ago. Relics of a more idealistic time." He stood up and walked towards her.
"I'll admit that I've seen a lot better," the interrogator said, circling her writhing body. "But you are going to be a welcome change of pace from the men and the butch types that we normally get in here. And if you're as much of an amateur as your pathetic responses implied, we're going to have a lot of fun with you."
Irina couldn't help but break out crying.