"HEY! Where are you taking us?!" Andres yelled at the guards. We were in the back of a van moving to an unknown destination. They looked at each other with confused expressions as they couldn't understand what he was saying. Andres turned to face me wanting to translate.

I sighed as I faced the guards. "Where are you taking us?" I asked in English with my accent.

They all looked at each other before sharing a laugh. "Don't they teach you anything in Spain?"

"We're not from Spain, we're from Avalon," I corrected.

"Then how are you speaking English?" He asked looking triumphant. "Your accent could use some work puto."

There really was no good defense for me. How can I explain speaking a language that doesn't exist anywhere else? And even if I came up with the best defense, they would never believe me. Nothing short of a burning bush would make them trust me.

I sighed in frustration before throwing one last insult. "Tu madre es un hombre."

"What did he say?" The guard turned to another one seeking answers. The guard he turned to punched me in the stomach sending a sharp pain through my body.

"He said that your mother is a guy," The man said in a stern and commanding voice. The first guard began to look enraged as he turned to face me.

"You think you're funny huh?" He said as he spat on me. I closed my eyes and moved my face to the right in response. "What's your name?"

"The same as your father's," I answered, provoking him. I mean, I was going to get beaten either way with no hope of escape. I might as well annoy them while I still can.

He reacted as I expected and punched me again in the gut.

"Owww!" I sounded out as I coughed out some blood. The guard looked smug as he retracted his fist and leaned back in his seat.

"W-what happened?" Andres asked frantically.

"They're taking us to a building in the middle of nowhere to do what they call improved interrogation techniques," I answered glumly as I continued to cough out blood.

"And those techniques are?" Andres asked.

"Torture," I said bluntly. "They're going to torture us."

"What the fuck have you gotten us into?" His voice was laced with anger and uncertainty.

"Relax," I said trying to soothe his fears. "I have an idea to get out of this."

"An idea?" Andres repeated. "Not a plan, an idea? You always have a plan!"

"You're just going to have to trust me," I said, looking serious. My eyebrows were slightly furrowed as I tried thinking of ways to get out. "I've never let you down."

"We've never been threatened with torture or death before!" He retorted.

"Just trust me-" I began before getting interrupted.

"No more talking for the two of you," The guard said as they put a gag in our mouths. The rest of the long and bumpy ride was silence and anticipation. Andres stared at me with pleading and scared eyes and I looked back with a calculating gaze.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

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The truck came to an abrupt halt as we were thrown up from our seats due to the impact. The guards began to stand up.

"Get up," They ordered. I stood up, however, Andres didn't understand their words. I also couldn't tell him what to due because of the gag in my mouth. They resorted to dragging him up by his arms.

The backdoor to the van opened. The guards roughly dragged us out with no concern for our safety. Before we could even step down, they yanked on our wrists, causing us to floor to the cement on the floor.

They made us follow them to the gate. We waited for someone to open the barb-wired gate and let us in. Standing on the other side was a middle-aged man wearing green military clothing and had several badges on his chest.

The gate began to slowly retract to the right. When it was fully out of the way, the guards signaled for us to move forward. We continued walking until we were a few steps away from the man. The guards saluted before the man acknowledged them.

"So you're the pilot," The man said in a British accent. His expression was neutral and guarded, trying not to show any weakness. Inwardly, I grinned. I was going to have a lot of fun beating him. The guard forcefully removed our gags. A sizable amount of saliva began dripping from my mouth.

"And you are?" I asked searching for information.

"General Benedict," He answered. "However you will only know me as your executioner Mister ..."

"Zackary Zephyr," I answered formally. I hated using my full name, yet I needed him to keep talking to me.

His eyes scrutinized me searching for any signs of deception. "Well Mr. Zephyr, I'm sure you have quite the story to tell. Cooperation will be more favorable for you."

'You just said you were going to be my executioner!' I thought about the contradiction in my head.

"Really?" I asked faking relief in my voice and expressions.

"If whatever you say is credible, there will be rewards," He answered, adding compassion to his voice.

I moved my eyes back and forth, faking contemplation. After a few ample seconds, I sighed and began to speak. "I'll tell whatever you want to know as long as you record it right now."

"That can be arranged," He said as he snapped his fingers. One of the guards began to run off only to return moments later with a small camera. He placed his two fingers on the side and began to look at the screen.

"What is your mission?" The general asked.

"May I ask if I'm being detained right now?" I kept the look of uncertainty on my face.

"As of this moment, you are under arrest," The general responded, falling for the trap. I dropped all the pretenses that I had employed. I faced the camera with a small smirk.

"I am invoking my and my partner's right to a defense," I said with my eyes never leaving the camera.

"What do you think you're doing?" The general asked. He was very displeased and his anger was evident in just about everything: his posture, facial expressions, body language, etc.

This was my last resort, my pis aller. There was nothing I could do which meant that I would die here. Andres would also die here.

Having nothing isn't a guaranteed loss. In fact, even when someone has the best cards, you can win. All you have to do is make them think your cards are better than theirs. However, that's where the difficulty lies. The person with the best cards has the luxury of knowing that their hand is great, which makes them more willing to take risks.

So in order for me to win, I would need to bluff. Not just bluff, but give the biggest bluff of my entire life.

"That camera sends everything to the cloud right?" I guessed. The military is keen on redundancies. If something happened to the camera, they would still want a way to recover the footage. I was also counting on the fact that the general didn't know enough of the technical to know the answer.

The guards immediately stopped the recording and began fiddling with the camera in an attempt to delete it.

"That means that someone is going to watch it soon," I said quickly, not allowing them time to process. "You can only keep me incommunicado for what, 72 hours?" I took another guess, but this one was based on the laws of our world. The general began to sweat and took a step back.

"The right to a defense is constitutional and goes against the military's doctrine to violate it," I said, my smile growing. I kept applying pressure so that it seemed he had no way out. "Now I may die, but Spain will be sending reports here documents about our operation. Eventually, they are going to call the military and obtain that footage showing that you violated my rights."

"Tell me general, are you ready to be court martialed?" I asked. The general was considering his options here, to either get me a lawyer or to risk his career. Would he fold or call?

"You bastard," He said as he clenched his fist. "You want to play like that? Very well, I'll give you your lawyer. However, as you said, I'm allowed to keep you incommunicado for 72 hours. Trust me, those 72 hours are going to be the longest 72 hours of your life. I'll make you wish you died."

It was my turn to be the one that was scared. How could I not think of that? Hindsight is 20/20, yet it was so obvious. I practically gave him a partial solution!

But all I had to do was last the 72 hours.

Easy right?