by Memphis James

Created on: February 25, 2009

Cairo Egypt
Egyptian Intelligence Center
Counter Terrorism Complex [British sector]
2116 local
1 January 2008

The single light bulb; hung suspended from the ceiling of the 10 by 10 holding cell; fought a losing battle with the encroaching shadows of darkness. The sun was fading with the coming of night. Already the bazaar, beyond the high blast-barrier walls of the compound, was growing quiet, as shoppers made their way home to families. The night crowds had yet to begin their nightly quest for money. Ill-gotten or other wise.

A single window; barred and quite small; was set high in the western wall of the holding cell. The odor of spiced food, drifted in on the slight breezes, that where beginning to pick up; as it did every day at this time.
Still, the interior of the cell, remained dank and heavy with humidity. A virtual oven, if not for the breeze that made life bearable for it's prisoners. Although the cockroaches and swamp mice, that infested the place, found it quite to their liking; the more human element did not. As they where in no position to argue the point, that mattered little to their host.
A prison did not a home make; but was damned handy for storing the less desirable of society's humanitarian riffraff. One such riffraff, now occupied this cell. Khalid al Tuled Mohammad; also known as Yalladi Abdul Arafat. The Palestinian born founder and leader of the Fist of Jihad. A little know, but brutally deadly, Egyptian based, Islamic Radical Terrorist Organization. Responsible for hundreds of bombings and murders, throughout the Arab and European hemispheres.
Sunset prayers completed, Khalid al Tuled Mohammad sat upon his tick mattress- his back against the Eastern wall, awaiting developments.
"God is great." he intombed. " His will be done. For what shall be, shall be; and I will be the better for it."
The British dogs, with their Egyptian lackies would be coming in another five minutes for another round of interrogation and torture.
"Infidals!" he hissed. "And they call 'ME' a terrorist! BAH!
Khalid had been picked up two weeks ago by dreaded British field agents, the moment he set foot in Cairo's International Airport terminal. The Egyptian authority, though present, merely stood stoically by and watched. Neither offering assistance or interference. Clearly, Khalid had burned his bridges, many times over, with his indiscriminate killings of hundreds of innocent Egyptians over the years.
He was brought here to this holding cell, where immediately the

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