The Faded Alibi
The rifle’s stock bit into Saad Awan’s shoulder, a familiar ache that sharpened his focus as he gripped the barrel, knuckles white against the sweating metal. He stood in the center of the interrogation room, the air heavy with stale ozone and the metallic tang of the ventilation system, which hummed like a dying insect. The colonel sat across from him, a mountain of flesh and regulation gray,...
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