It's afternoon, the sun is burning down on you and the other prisoners. Around you, dogs are barking, soldiers are yelling in English and you can hear the sounds of an airport.

You can't see, your head is covered by a bag, only light coming through. Rough hands shove you outside the military plane you were transported in to get you to here. You are pushed down onto your knees, the asphalt scraping your skin through the thin inmate clothing. Somewhere to your right you can hear the anxious babbling of another prisoner, then angry, English words, followed by a punch and a pained grunt. The babbling stopped.

Six months ago you were arrested by Americans because of suspicion of murder and suspicion of terrorism and the past three months the interrogations turned into torture to get you to talk. You hadn't gotten a trial, you weren't even charged properly. It was just interrogation and the constant pressure to confess to a crime you didn't do. Now, you and several other prisoners have been transported to this base to make it harder for anyone to take legal action and even get you a lawyer. You weren't even sure where you were.