The Banana Republic by Brian53
He sat at the desk with his head in his hands, exhausted. Loud music played in the background or was it the foreground? His brain had stopped functioning properly hours ago, what the hell did they hope to achieve with this torture.
It was difficult but he applied an old technique that he had honed over the years when ignoring the wife. He withdrew into his own little world to get away from the madness that was reality. The constant questioning faded into the background and his mind was at last able to rest. His thoughts started to wander.
It had been a fantastic holiday but his family were naturally tired when the flight had touched down in the early hours of Friday morning. They were crossing the runway having just disembarked from the plane when it happened. He remembered the screaming and the terrified look on his children’s faces. The police had been everywhere and none to gentle as they threw him in the back of the van.
Rough shaking brought him back to the present and the harsh reality of his arrest. It took him a minute to get his thoughts back together. The same photographs lay scattered over the desk and the fat sweaty interrogator shoved another in his face. He was wasting his time there was no way he was going to cooperate. He drifted back to the safety of his own little world.
The water splashed on his face brought him back again to reality. His eyes came into focus, there were three of them now, and the photographs had gone. The fat interrogator appeared to have showered and changed, all to no avail as he began to sweat in the heat of the banana republic. The questioning started again with the same ferocity as before. The three interrogators sat with their mouths hanging open as he kicked back his chair and stood to attention, “Green Brigade, seat 67, section 111.”