The Ties That Bind

All was quiet. Everyone was asleep, save for three individuals. It is after all difficult to be lulled into peaceful slumber when one is being held captive. It is especially difficult when every breath taken could be the last.

The cell, at first glance, did not look all-too-imposing. It was not small enough to invoke any claustrophobic reactions, nor was it expansive enough to be considered comfortable lodging for three. There was no furniture of any kind. It was in essence, an empty room. However, being inside the cell was a totally different experience. Sinister undertones contributed to the bleakness of the cell. An acerbic smell filled the air, and the dull metallic color of the walls only served to accentuate the red stains on the walls. It did not help that there was virtually no ventilation. The air was overbearingly humid and stagnant.

“Do you think they will kill us?” Chris whispered to his comrades, as though afraid that their captors might be eavesdropping. Though they did not reply, the other two men’s thoughts mirrored their friend’s.

Deafening silence followed before a sudden flurry of expletives filled the air.

“Damn it!!! DAMN IT!!!! I am not going to die in this god-forsaken place!!!” One of the men had lost his cool, and was now pounding on the walls with his fists.

“Cool it, Ryan. That’s not going to do us any good. We’re better off trying to think of a means to escape.” A voice echoed from a corner in the room. Tommy, level-headed as ever, remained motionless. His furrowed brows, the only anomaly on his otherwise impeccably calm features indicated that he was deep in thought.

“I guess the severity of our situation has not fully dawned on you; these people mean business. We might be trained, but we have no freaking weapons. We have not eaten in days and I don’t see any way out of this goddamn hell-hole. So excuse me for not meditating and indulging in foolish optimism…” Ryan exclaimed, furious that his friend was failing to grasp the direness of their plight. This stinging retort merely resulted in a slight display of irritation from Tommy. Ryan’s temper simmered a little with this lack of irateness on Tommy’s part. Years of friendship meant that both understood the other almost intimately.

They both knew that Ryan had not meant what he had said.

“Desperation can do that to a person. The lesser attractive sides of human nature tend to surface in times of distress.” Chris thought to himself. It seemed like only yesterday that he and his two friends were still breathing in the wonderful air of freedom.

*



72 hours before

“So… how’s things going with Katrina?” Ryan asked, trying his hardest to keep a straight face, though failing spectacularly.

“Don’t you ever get tired of using that old joke?” Tommy’s deadpan voice rung through the air.

“Can we please concentrate on the mission at hand, and leave the discussion of Tommy’s colorful love life for a more appropriate time in the future?” Chris could not resist adding in a jibe of his own.

Before rappelling off the roof of the building.

Ryan and Tommy promptly clipped on their carabineers and followed suit.

The three men now found themselves in a deserted warehouse. The mission was simple: Locate and capture the leader of the Al-Fatah. Dead or alive.

The butt of Chris’s Steyr-Aug nestled in the soft flesh between his collar bone and shoulder. Its weight gave Chris an odd sense of reassurance. Out in the field, it was the only thing which kept him alive. Besides his other two teammates, that is.

“Section clear.” Ryan muttered into his mouthpiece.

Just as a tranquilizer dart impacted on the side of his neck.

As the drug flowed though his bloodstream, his consciousness ebbed away and the last thing he saw was the sight of his two friends collapsing around him….

*

Unbeknownst to them, Al-Fatah members had already anticipated their arrival. As the three men had panned through the first floor of the warehouse, snipers had already taken their positions all around the warehouse.

They never had a chance.

*


The three men had been childhood friends. They all came from disparate family backgrounds, but a shared passion for computer gaming had brought the three friends together. Tommy, the oldest, was well-built for his age. His icy-cool demeanor hid a soft and caring heart. He came from a relatively well-to-do family but was never really showered upon the tender loving care which his younger brother received. Resentment was not one of his traits though, and though he remained distant from his family, he never once hated them. Ryan, stocky and muscular, never really revealed anything about his past. Fiercely loyal and possessing a wicked sense of humor, he was the paragon of righteousness of the group; though his fiery temper often got the group into many fight over his quest for justice. Chris, the youngest, was immature, mischievous and always ready to have fun. But, he was also the one who would always mediate in fights or arguments.

And so, after school everyday, on clockwork, they would meet at their favorite gaming haunt and indulge in an afternoon of full-blown gaming action. They played almost every game under the sun, but their forte would be the first-person shooter.

It was almost like second nature.

The chemistry between the three of them was unbelievable. They all had eclectic styles of play, but at the end of the day, everything seemed to fall in place perfectly. It was as if their friendship in real life had been transmuted into an energy source, which served to bind them together in the virtual world. They complemented each other flawlessly. Over lunch, the trio would discuss tactics, counter-measures and attack strategies. They were so adept at their craft, that a rare victory over them would have their closest rival, David, screaming over the racket and pandemonium of the cybercafe “Checkmate!!”

Thus, it would only be fitting that all three of them had pursued careers in the army. In their final year of basic military training, they had opted for Special Forces. And thus, nearly a decade after they had met, they were now being confined in a cell, awaiting the verdict on their lives.

*


Present

Time seems to pass in chapters when one is isolated from the rest of the world. One moment dawn turns to dusk in a flash, and the next it seems like eternity before twilight comes. Ryan, Tommy and Chris had lost track of time after the third day. Malnourishment coupled with fear had addled with their minds. Sure, they had undergone psychological and physical torture during their training; but the real world was an entirely different ball game altogether. It certainly did not help that they were relatively new to the game, greenhorns in their own right. Had it not been for a lack of manpower, they would probably never have been assigned to this mission.

There was nothing that they could do, except think.

Memories are like time machines; they can take you back to the past and allow you to relive them. Even if only in the mind. These fragments of our lives can never be entirely gotten rid of. They can only fade, but never will they disappear. As the three friends sat reminiscing happier times, the unpredictability of their impending fate was emphasized even further. It served to exacerbate their feelings of trepidation, loss and helplessness. They were too young to die. They had yet to even savor the full sweetness of life. It was as if fate was deliberately throwing them the short straw.

A sudden clang of metal shook the three friends out of their dreamlike trance. No less than twelve AK-47 rifles were now being pointed at them. Strong gruff hands forced them to their knees. Chris felt the touch of cold metal on his temple; and then a voice.

“Checkmate”