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SOMEWHERE IN THE IRAQI DESERT- 0400 HOURS

    He couldn’t see. He wasn’t blind though, it was just that his vision was restricted by the blindfold around his eyes. They must have put it on when he had passed out. The last thing he remembered was being dragged into a building. He savoured the warmth as they dragged his body inside , then the warmth turned to cold as he saw a picture of Saddam Hussein hanging on a wall. It was staring right at him. His worst fears were confirmed with one quick glance. He was forced to look at a man; the man was bearded with angry eyes. The man shouted words he didn’t understand and then hit him with the butt of his rifle.
    After that it was lights out.
    He heard strange voices as he woke in a language he didn’t understand. He could smell sweat, he could also smell burning. The air was so dusty that he found it hard to breathe.
    Tommy could feel the sweat dripping down his head onto his face, then rolling down to his chin. It made him thirsty. He was so thirsty.
    The shoulder hurt like hell. His head was worst though. ‘That bastard Trigg! That bastard!’ Tommy now remembered Trigg had shot him in the shoulder. He needed medical attention.
    Tommy had started to panic
    ‘ Who the fuck are these people?’
    Deep down he knew. He was just too scared in his own mind to accept he was in the presence of some of the nastiest people on God’s earth. And these people were here for him. What were their intentions?
    Tommy knew. He knew what they were here for. He was under no illusions.
    He just prayed deep down that for once he was wrong. He had to gather himself, gather his emotions.
    Then a voice in a language he understood. ‘What did you say?’
    Tommy asked out loud as he couldn’t quite make out the words of the comforting voice without a face.
    ‘ Stop breathing so heavy. You’ll tire yourself out, son. You a soldier? You must be a soldier?’
    Tommy let the words sink in. It was an American accent. He felt so good that wherever he was he was not alone. He told himself it must be an American soldier who had also been captured.
    ‘ Thanks, I’m just so hot. I can hardly breathe. Yeah I’m a soldier. You?’ Tommy replied whilst trying to work out how close the voice was.
    ‘ No, my friend, a reporter. It is hot. You gotta breathe more easily buddy. Chill out a little. You been processed yet?’
    ‘ Processed? What’s that mean? Wait don’t answer that. You mean tortured, right? Wait, don’t answer that either. Oh no.’ Tommy knew what the voice meant.
    Tommy had another flashback and he remembered being in extreme pain with what felt like a rock hitting his head a few hours ago.
    That rock was in fact the butt of an Iraqi AK47 rifle introducing itself to his forehead. After that it got misty.
    ‘ Look, hey, I don’t know your name. Well, whoever you are I tell you, I’m getting the fuck outta here, I ain’t seen anything yet, I’m kinda fuzzy headed, took a big crack from a rifle on me head, all I could hear was gibberish before I passed out, then I wake up in here.’
    There was a shuffling as the voice sounded closer. ‘Look, buddy, first rule, keep quiet, they go fucking ape-shit when we make noise. Look, buddy, the likelihood of us getting out of here is slim – yours slimmer than mine. You’re a soldier for fuck sake, a prize; they’ll be parading your ass for sure. This is the place you stop bullshitting yourself. I know in your mind you think you’re gonna be the one to get out, that by some miraculous way of fate some camo wearing grunts are gonna barge through here and save your ass. Then you’ll go home to a big brass band with cameras asking how you coped. You write the book, do the TV interview. Your woman parades you to everyone as the hero come home. Ain’t gonna happen, my friend. Second rule, tell them what the fuck they need to know. If not, it will be a long long stay for you’.
    Trying to scratch his nose which was itching whilst having his hands