He had always known this could happen, in fact, he lived with the very real possibility that it would happen, at any moment, any day. After all, he was El Comendador, one of the leaders of the resistance to the oppressive regime.
Today, finally, it had happened. He was walking in a busy downtown street when two men had stepped up behind him, told him he was under arrest and not to try and escape. He had known that they had guns that they would not hesitate to use, so he had let them take him into a waiting car. The men had manacled his hands in his back and put a blindfold over his eyes.
He couldn’t tell exactly how long the drive in the car had been. When it had finally stopped, they had used the blindfold to gag him and taken him in a house. El Comendador had only caught a glimpse of where he was – looked like one of the many nondescript suburbs surrounding the city.
And now he was inside the house. The two men had left him standing in an empty room. The windows’ blinds were drawn. He had heard the men leaving the house and the car departing.
Now what?
What was going to happen to him?
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