Michael Cole was a man of importance. A government contractor with access to sensitive information, he knew things most people didn’t, making him a target. But tonight, as he sat in the airport lounge sipping his coffee, he just relaxed.

The flight delays had stretched on for hours, and exhaustion tugged at him. His phone buzzed with an email. Another meeting, another project. But his vision blurred. He barely had time to wonder why he felt so drowsy before the world slipped away.

When he woke, the hum of the airport was gone. Cold cement pressed against his cheek, and the sharp smell of dampness filled his nose. He tried to move, but his arms were bound behind his back, wrists tied so tight they throbbed. Panic shot through him. He blinked against the dim light, the room coming into focus.

His clothes were gone. He was lying on a bare concrete floor, flickering bulb overhead, and walls stained with age and neglect. There was a door, but no doorknob. He was suddenly alert. He wasn’t alone. Heavy breathing came from the shadows.

Michael struggled to sit up, his pulse racing, but his body felt weak. His head throbbed, and he could still taste the bitter remnants of whatever drug had knocked him out. Fear knotted in his stomach as the sound of footsteps echoed from behind.

A figure emerged from the darkness—a tall man dressed in black, his face concealed by a mask. Behind him, a low growl rumbled, and from the shadows stepped a massive dog, it must have been three feet tall at the shoulders and weighed nearly two hundred pounds if Michael were to guess.

The dog fixed Michael with a predatory stare. The man dropped the chain attached to its collar, but the dog didn’t make any move towards him. “Good, you’re awake,” the man said, his voice calm, almost casual. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever come to.” Michael’s heart raced, but he tried to keep his voice steady. “Who are you? What do you want?” The man crouched down in front of him, tilting his head as if considering. “You already know what we want. The question is how long you plan to keep it from us.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michael protested. The man sighed, standing again. “That’s unfortunate. You’ve been very ... difficult to reach, Mr. Cole. And now you’ve made things worse for yourself by pretending you don’t know why you’re here.” Michael’s mind raced. His work on classified projects and confidential meetings was sensitive, but nothing he dealt with was worth this. He wasn’t a spy. What did they think he knew? And why this? A chill ran through him as the dog took a step closer, its growl deepening, teeth bared. “You’re going to tell us what you’ve been hiding,” the man said, grabbing the dog’s chain and pulling it taut. “But we can take our time. The dog ... won’t kill you, not unless I give the order. But he’ll make sure you understand how serious we are.”

Without another word, the man released the leash. The dog lunged forward, teeth snapping near Michael’s face. He recoiled, heart pounding, trying to pull his legs up to defend himself, but the bindings held him tight. The dog circled him, snarling, its jaws inches from his neck. Michael’s breathing was ragged. His mind raced, but no clear thoughts formed. He had to stall, had to stay alive long enough to figure out what they wanted. “I’ll talk. Just ... just give me a minute. You drugged me. I’m not thinking straight.”

The man crossed his arms, watching. “You’re thinking straight enough. Start talking, or I’ll let him off his leash.” The dog’s hot breath brushed against Michael’s skin, its low growl vibrating in his chest. He could feel the animal’s hunger, trained to hurt, to push him to the brink of terror but keep him alive. “I’m telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about! Just tell me what you think I know!” Michael’s voice cracked, desperation seeping in. The man gave a slow shake of his head. “You know. The files you took, the information you’ve been passing to your friends in the Department of Defense. You think we don’t know about that meeting in Prague last month?” Michael’s heart stopped. Prague. It had been a routine meeting—a strategy session for a classified project. He hadn’t stolen anything, but someone had framed him. They thought he was a spy. “It wasn’t me,” he said, the truth spilling out. “I wasn’t passing anything. I swear, it’s a mistake.” The man didn’t respond, he released his hold on the dog. The animal lunged at Michael. He tried to roll out of the dog’s way, but as close as it was, its full weight came down on his back pinning him to the floor. Pain exploded in Michael’s body as this huge animal bore him down with its full weight. He screamed and tried to roll, trying to get the dog to move away. The leash snapped tight, and the dog sat back panting still pinning Michael’s legs under it. “You have until the end of tonight to convince me,” the man said, his voice eerily calm. “Or I will let the dog have you.” Michael gasped for air, sweat pouring down his face. His body ached. He had no idea how to get out of this. They thought he was guilty. Whoever had set him up had done it perfectly. But then something clicked in his mind. Maybe they didn’t need the truth. Perhaps they just needed “A” truth. “I ... I can get you something,” Michael said, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. “There’s a server. At my office. Information is stored offline. But it’s encrypted. I can decrypt it for you.” The man stared at him, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “Is that so?” Michael nodded, praying his lie would hold. He had to buy time, had to survive long enough to find a way out. “But I need to get to a computer. I can’t do it from here.” The man was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke. “We’ll see. If you’re lying...” He glanced at the dog, who growled low in its throat. The man released the leash and the dog lunged forward again.