Maher sat on a hard plastic chair, his hands clenched in his lap, his stomach churning. 

They came here after the protest, the Police arrested many protestors and were now  interrogating them, and from what he could hear coming from the next room, they were treated roughly.

Detective Fahid’s voice boomed through the thin walls, laced with a cruel edge.  Maher could hear shouts, muffled cries, and the distinct sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

He’d seen Fahid’s type before – a man who thrived in the power he wielded, a bully hiding behind a badge.

Officer Ameer, a younger officer with a stoic face, sat beside Maher, avoiding his gaze.

Maher muttered, his voice low but firm.
“This isn’t right, Ameer,”

Ameer
  “Look, Maher, we just work here.  We don’t make the rules.”

Maher
“But you see what’s happening. That man… they’re treating him like an animal."

Ameer remained silent. The sounds from the interrogation room intensified.  Maher heard a sickening thud followed by a gasp.  Then, Fahid’s voice, dripping with malice.

Fahid
“You’re going to tell me everything, or this is going to get a lot worse.”

Maher could feel his blood boiling.  He couldn't sit there and do nothing.  He knew what Fahid was capable of.  He’d heard the stories.

Maher
“I can’t… I can’t just sit here,”

Maher couldn't control his emotions any longer, his voice shaking with a mixture of fear and resolve.
He stood up, his legs feeling a little shaky.  Ameer finally looked up at him, his eyes wide with alarm. 

Ameer
"Maher, where are you going?  Don’t… don’t do anything stupid."

Maher ignored him.  He walked towards the interrogation room, his heart pounding in his chest.  He could hear Fahid yelling again, and then, a chilling sound – the ripping of fabric.

Maher’s blood ran cold.  He knew what was happening.  He’d heard whispers about this kind of thing, about how they broke people.  He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The scene that greeted him made his stomach churn.  The detainee, a young man Maher recognized from the protest, stood in his underwear, his face pale and bruised.  Fahid stood in front of him, his phone raised, a cruel smirk on his face.

“Get out of here!”
Fahid snarled, his eyes flashing with anger.

Maher stood his ground, placing himself between Fahid and the detainee. 
“Don't do this. This is wrong.”

Fahid. “You think you can tell me what to do?  You’re just a troublemaker.”

Maher
“He’s a human being, and you’re abusing your power.”

Fahid lunged forward, trying to push Maher aside. 
“Get out of my way!”

Maher braced himself, ready for the blow.  But before Fahid could reach him, Sam appeared in the doorway, his face pale and drawn.

“Detective Fahid,” Ameer said, his voice trembling slightly, “I… I think we should stop this.”

Fahid glared at Ameer, his face contorted with rage. 
“Are you questioning my authority?”

Ameer swallowed hard.  “No, sir.  But… there are procedures…”

Fahid sneered.  “Procedures?  You think You know about procedures? More than me?”

Maher stood there, his heart pounding, unsure of what would happen next.  He knew he’d crossed a line, but he couldn't have lived with himself if he’d done nothing. He just hoped Ameer would do the right thing too.

The air in the interrogation room crackled with tension. Maher stood his ground, his gaze locked on Detective Fahid, who was now red-faced with fury.

Officer Ameer hovered nervously by the door, his eyes darting between Maher and Fahid.

“You think you’re so clever, huh?” Fahid sneered, taking a step closer to Maher. “Interfering with a lawful interrogation.  You’ll regret this.”

Maher
“It’s not lawful, Stripping someone down to their underwear and taking pictures?  That’s not interrogation, that’s abuse.”

Fahid chuckled, a harsh, humorless sound. “You think anyone’s going to believe you?  It’s your word against mine.  And I have a little more clout around here than you do, Officer.”

He turned to Ameer.  “Tell him, Ameer.  Tell him how things work.”

Maher looked at Ameer, a silent plea in his eyes. He needed Ameer to back him up, to stand against this injustice.

Ameer fidgeted, avoiding Maher’s gaze.  “Detective Fahid is right, Maher,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.  “You’re getting in the way.  It’s… it’s not our place to interfere.”

“Not our place?” Maher’s voice rose in disbelief. “He’s violating this man’s rights!  We’re supposed to protect people, not stand by while they’re abused!”

Fahid :
“Look at you, the white knight.  You think you’re going to change the world?  Let me give you a little lesson, Officer.  This is how things are done.  And if you don’t like it, well, that’s your problem. One phone call to your superiors, and you’ll be cleaning toilets for the next six months.  Think about that.”

Maher’s jaw tightened.  He knew Fahid had connections, that he was protected.  But he couldn’t back down now.

Maher:
“Go ahead, Fahid, Make your call.  Because I’m going to make one too.  I’m going to report everything I saw here, everything you did.  And I guarantee you’ll be in more trouble than I will.”

Fahid turned to Ameer again, his voice laced with menace. 
“Ameer, you’re a witness here.  Are you going to corroborate his story?  Or are you going to tell them what really happened?”

Ameer looked terrified, caught between his loyalty to his colleague and his fear of Fahid.  He wrung his hands, his face pale.

“I… I didn’t see anything, I was outside.”

Maher’s heart sank.  He knew then.  Ameer wasn’t going to stand with him.  He was going to choose self-preservation over doing what was right.

“That’s what I thought,” Fahid said, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.  He turned back to Maher.
“Looks like you’re all alone, Officer.  And alone… you’re nothing.”

Maher stared at Ameer, a mixture of disappointment and anger churning inside him.  He had hoped, foolishly, that Ameer would have the courage to do what was right.  But he was wrong.  He was alone.  But even alone, he wasn’t going to back down.

The detainee, a young man named Khalil, had been silent for a long time, his eyes glazed over with a mixture of fear and exhaustion. 

He’d endured Fahid’s relentless questioning, the verbal abuse, the threats. And the beating,  but when Fahid took out his phone something in Khalil’s chest burned, his dignity wasn't something that he could ignore he could feel his heart beating faster that ever, breathing became hard and his arm hurt.

Suddenly, Khalil’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the floor with a sickening thud.  The sound echoed through the small interrogation room, cutting through the tension in the room.

Maher’s heart leaped into his throat.  He rushed to the young man’s side.  He knelt beside him, checking for a pulse.  It was faint, but still there.  Khalil was unconscious.

Fahid watched, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.  Ameer stood frozen by the door, his face ashen.
Maher looked up at Fahid, his voice tight with urgency and anger.  “He’s fainted!  We have to get him to the infirmary, now!”

Fahid shrugged.  “He’s faking it.  Just trying to get out of answering questions.”

“Faking it? Are you blind?  He’s unconscious!  He needs medical attention!”

He glared at Fahid, his eyes flashing with anger. “If anything happens to him, all three of us are going to be in serious trouble.  Do you understand that?”

Fahid hesitated, a hint of unease creeping into his expression.  He knew Maher was right.  If the detainee’s condition worsened, it would reflect badly on them, especially on him.

“Help me get him up,” Maher said to Ameer, his voice sharp.  Ameer flinched but didn’t move.  “Come on, Ameer!  Don’t just stand there!”

Finally, Ameer seemed to snap out of his daze. He shuffled over and awkwardly helped Maher lift Khalil.  He was limp and heavy, his body going completely slack.

Maher carefully cradled Khalil in his arms, his face etched with concern.  He looked back at Fahid, his eyes blazing.  “I’m taking him to the infirmary.  You’d better hope he’s okay, for your sake as well as his."

Without waiting for a response, Maher turned and carried Khalil out of the interrogation room. 

He could feel the weight of the young man in his arms, but it was nothing compared to the weight of the injustice he had witnessed. 
He knew he had to do everything he could to help Khalil, and to make sure that what happened in that room never happens again.

______________

The infirmary was small and sparsely equipped.  Khalil lay on the examination table, still unconscious.  Maher paced nervously, his eyes fixed on the young man’s pale face.  Dr. Kamal, a kind-faced man with tired eyes, examined Khalil, his brow furrowed with concern.

“His pulse is weak,” Dr. Kamal said, his voice grave.  “We need to get him to the hospital immediately.  He needs more specialized care than I can provide here.”

Maher nodded, his stomach churning.  “I’ll call my superiors,” he said, pulling out his phone.  He quickly explained the situation, emphasizing the urgency of Khalil’s condition.  There was some hesitation on the other end, questions about what had happened, but Dr. Kamal’s assessment, relayed by Maher, finally convinced them.  They authorized the transfer.

The ambulance arrived quickly, sirens wailing.  Maher helped the paramedics load Khalil onto the stretcher, his heart pounding with anxiety.  He rode with them to the hospital, his gaze never leaving Khalil’s face.

The hospital was a whirlwind of activity.  Khalil was rushed into the emergency room, doctors and nurses swarming around him. 

Maher waited anxiously in the waiting area, pacing back and forth, his mind replaying the events of the interrogation room.  He felt a heavy weight of guilt and responsibility.  He knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what.

Hours passed, each one an eternity.  Finally, a doctor emerged from the emergency room, his face grim.  He approached Maher, who stood up, his legs numb from sitting.
“Mr. Maher,” the doctor said, his voice somber, “Mr. Khalil’s condition has deteriorated.  He had a heart attack, He’s in the ICU.  We’re doing everything we can, but…” He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Maher felt a wave of nausea wash over him.  Heart attack!
ICU!  Those letters echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of the severity of Khalil’s situation.  He thought of Khalil’s family, his friends, the life that was hanging in the balance. 
And he knew, with a chilling certainty, that he couldn’t stay silent any longer. 

He had to tell someone, anyone, what had happened in that interrogation room.  He had to expose Fahid’s brutality, even if it meant risking his own career.  He owed it to Khalil.