The dim light of Omar's living room cast long shadows across the cluttered coffee table, covered in maps, scribbled notes, and half-empty coffee cups. Maher paced back and forth, his fist clinched, while Omar sat hunched over his laptop, scrolling through news articles and social media posts about Hasan's arrest. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the weight of helplessness.
Omar said while rubbing his temples "The police won't tell you anything else?"
Maher stopped mid-step, voice tight with frustration "No. Every time I go, it's the same thing, either they say he's still 'under interrogation' or they threaten to throw me in a cell with him if I don't stop asking." He kicked the leg of the couch. "They're hiding something."
Omar exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "My uncle refused to help. Said it would ruin his reputation to get involved."
Maher turned sharply. "What? Ruin his reputation?He's a coward!"
Omar shook his head. "He said the government has already labeled Hasan a rebel. You've seen the posts, he's all over social media now. The people calling him a hero, the news calling him a traitor. My uncle said pleading for him is pointless. They won't let him go."
Maher's hands curled into fists. "So that's it? We just give up?"
Omar slammed his laptop shut. "No. But we need to be smart. If the police won't talk, and my uncle won't help, we find another way." He stood, grabbing his jacket. "There has to be someone who knows where they took him."
Maher's eyes burned with determination. "Then we start digging. Contacts, witnesses, anything."
Omar nodded. "We don't stop until we find him."
The two exchanged a grim look, the unspoken understanding between them clear: time was running out, and if no one else would help, they'd do whatever it took themselves.
The air in Abo Bilal's dimly lit hideout was thick with the scent of dirt and stale coffee. Maps of the city, marked with red circles and hastily scribbled notes, covered the wooden table in the center of the room. Omar sat across from Abo Bilal, his fingers drumming restlessly against his knee, while Maher stood near the door, arms crossed, his expression tense.
Omar leaning forward said "We need to get Hasan out. The government branded him a rebel just for treating wounded protestors, he wasn't even one of us yet."
Abo Bilal exhaled his voice calm but firm "I already agreed to let him and Maher join before this happened. But it's true that he wasn't an official member yet. Despite that they won't just release him because we ask nicely. Luckily, we're not just asking."
Maher's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Abo Bilal smirked. "We've got leverage. The president's son and three high-ranking diplomats are in our custody. We were already planning a hostage exchange."
Omar's breath caught. "You're serious?"
Abo Bilal nodded "Dead serious. The government thinks they can crush us by locking up every voice that speaks against them. But people are fed up. Half the country is still too scared to move, but the other half? They're boiling. If we pull this off, it won't just save Hasan, it'll prove the regime can be hit where it hurts and inshallah things go well."
Maher stepped closer, fists clenched. "Then let's do it. What's the plan?"
Abo Bilal turned to him and said "First, we confirm where they're holding Hasan. Then, we make our offer, their people for ours. All of ours." His gaze hardened. "But if they refuse we break him and the others out ourselves."
Omar exchanged a glance with Maher. The risk was enormous failure meant death or worse. But the alternative was leaving Hasan to rot in some dark cell, another nameless victim of a merciless regime.
Omar's voice was steady. "Then we move fast. Before they break him or worse."
Abo Bilal nodded. "Gather whoever you trust. This won't be clean, and it won't be easy. But if we succeed?" A grim smile tugged at his lips. "The streets will burn with hope."
The weight of the moment settled over them. The country was fractured, fear against fury, silence against screams. And in the shadows, men like them were about to tip the scales.
Maher cracked his knuckles. "Let's bring him home."