74 AMERICAN SPYlance by pretending to track and snatch an insect off the wall in front of
me, lizard-like, quickly putting it into my mouth. Retribution followed and
lesson learned. No more fake bugs for me.
The guards left a single, filthy “honey bucket” in the middle of this
illuminated group room, which we were forced to use in front of our com-
rades. Male and female alike.
After a day or so of being abused and humiliated in the group cell,
some of us were sent to solitary confinement. This was like being unexpect-
edly upgraded to first class. Solitary had its downsides and was uncomfort-
able as hell, but at least I could sit or lay curled up on the floor and be left
alone with my thoughts. I also took advantage of the solitude to rehearse
the details of my cover legend in my mind. Who was I, ostensibly, why was
I there, and what was I doing? I could not admit I was a CIA officer. I knew
it was just a matter of time before the interrogations would begin.
My muscles cramped up after hours on end on the concrete floor of
my closet-like, windowless cell. The stench from my only companion, a
honey bucket, began to overpower the nagging hunger pangs, at least tem-
porarily. Was it night or day? How many days had I been here? The sadistic guards
ensured our disorientation and sleep deprivation through around-the-clock
harassment by yelling and banging on our doors, and by playing earsplit-
ting heavy metal music over tinny loudspeakers. It was surreal. But it was
really happening.
There was a method to their madness. They were trying to wear us
down, break us both physically and psychologically, to soften us up for the
inevitable interrogation sessions. This was a well-run intelligence operation.
At one point they squeezed someone else into my cell. I couldn’t see
who it was in the dark, and neither of us spoke to the other, even though
we sat shoulder to shoulder on the floor for hours. I didn’t know if he was
cooperating with the bad guys, and he probably wondered the same thing
about me. Eventually they removed the anonymous visitor from my cell.
A guard banged on the door to my cell and jolted me out of a deep, ten-
minute slumber. My head was pounding, and my body craved water. Two
guards yanked me up and dragged me down the dark corridor, toward a