23rd April 2010 Late Morning

I saw myself at the wrong residence. I opened the door, realized my mistake but before I could close it back and leave, the one sitting on the bed called me in. I went in.
The truth is, I was supposed to keep tabs on them and update my friend with the information. My friend and I were working for the government, collecting information on such people. They had committed many cold blooded murders. I knew I had to think of an excuse for mistakenly barging into their one room house which looked like hut from outside but had a lot of room inside. It was among the many hut looking houses in that row, and I opened one door sooner.
I went in, greeted them and sat on the bed, pretending that I was their ally. I began giving them some information on my friend's progress in the case. But before I could tell them much, he stopped me and asked me, "Naam kya hai tera?" (what's your name?). He caught me off guard. I wasn't prepared for that question. At any cost I was not to reveal my real name, or any Indian or American fake name. I spoke some Afghan name. He looked at me and gave me clear signs that he didn't trust my lies.
The style in which he killed the impostors played over and over again in my mind as we sat to eat. I remember fighting few men with rods emitting electric current, and the dead lady officer hanging from the great wall on that roadside. I was hoping to rescue her, so that if she may still be breathing, we could revive her, but those men stopped me and eventually I had to save myself when I saw the lady was no more alive.

My friend was living in the adjacent hut. If only I could switch roles with him because he was more experienced, he could find a way out of this situation. I couldn't just run away from this place, if I did they'd track me down and kill me. We were in their country, so they had the upper hand. The shrieks of the lady, who was an agent from our agency, they killed at the roadside by hanging her on a wall and throwing stones and sharp objects at her.
It was a dream, I told myself. Crap! I thought, why couldn't I opt for the other character, instead of the current character I was in? I thought I had a choice, maybe I didn't. I imagined how it'd feel to die, and since I would die, I wouldn't be able to see how it all ends, which made me sad.
They started threatening me to tell the truth. I was really scared and tried to disguise my heavy breathing with sneezing and coughing. I laughed at their accusations and spoke most of the times in native language of Afghanistan. I knew this mission was hanging on my little shoulders and I could not, at any cost, give in even if it means death. We needed to catch the whole organization, not just those two men, who commit atrocities and cold blooded murder in the name of God and law.
Alas, I was made a bait and my team was asked to show up, else I'd be killed the way the lady officer was. Before they taped my mouth, I kept on laughing hysterically and telling them they had weird sense of humor, putting their own man on the line, pretending he belonged to the enemy and expecting the enemies to surrender. The information I gave them about my friend and our team's plan was all true, except for the end game, which is my friend is a world class expert. But the game had changed now. I was going to die, and I wished my friend and our team didn't come trying to save me. I wanted those savages killed in cold blood, which would only happen when my friend executed his plan (plan B, since I have been captured) as decided.
Alas, I won't be there to see the end.