A heavy silence prevailed inside the garage, and nothing could be heard except the sound of the cold night air creeping through the cracks of the iron door. Ahmed was lying next to Irina on the simple mattress she had prepared, while she stared at the ceiling in silence, as if fearing that this temporary peace would end with the break of dawn.
Ahmed suddenly broke the silence and said in a low voice:
— "I'm going back to Yemen."
Irina turned to him quickly, her eyes widening in shock.
— "Why so soon?"
Ahmed sighed, then said while averting his gaze:
— "I have a problem... I must return. But I will come back, God willing, soon."
She moved closer to him, staring into his eyes.
— "Promise me."
He looked at her for a long time, then said:
— "I promise you."
A faint smile appeared on her face, but it was laced with fear.
The Ambush
As dawn approached, Ahmed rose quietly, packed his bag, and stood before her for a few moments. She reached out and grabbed the edge of his shirt.
— "Don't be late."
He gave her a small smile, then said:
— "I won't."
He left the garage and departed the house in silence, heading toward Moscow Airport. The street was nearly empty. The cold morning air bit at his face, and the city lights were still dim. He was walking with quick strides, lost in thought, when he noticed two shadows approaching him from the opposite direction.
He paid them no mind. But as soon as they drew near, he felt a powerful blow to the back of his neck.
Everything faded.
The Facility: Project Synaptech
When he opened his eyes, a sharp white light stung them. He tried to rise... but he couldn't. He was stretched out on a metal bed, his arms and legs secured by thick black straps. He looked around in bewilderment. A vast, cold room, filled with electronic devices. Men in white coats were moving quickly, speaking Russian in sharp accents.
He understood nothing. One of them approached, a long syringe in his hand. Ahmed screamed:
— "Who are you?! What do you want?!"
But the man did not answer. He plunged the needle into his neck.
Seconds later... he drowned in darkness.
When he woke up again, he felt a sharp pain inside his head. A pain like nothing he had ever felt before. As if a burning coal had been planted inside his skull. His eyes were open, but he couldn't move a single finger. No arm. No leg. Not even his lips.
He could hear. He could see. He could smell.
But he was completely helpless. Paralyzed inside his own body.
The scientists stood around him. One of them said in Russian:
— "The Synaptech NeuroLink G1 chip implantation was successful."
Another pressed a button on a tablet. Suddenly... Ahmed's right hand rose on its own. His eyes widened in terror. He tried to stop it, but it wouldn't obey him. Then the device lowered it. Raised it again. Closed his fingers. Then opened them.
They were controlling him. As if he were a puppet.
Tears streamed down his face in silence.
The Diamond Gang
Hours later, the experiments repeated. Neural commands. Forced responses. Successive tests. Until his body began to respond entirely to the signals of the chip implanted in his brain. The chip was no larger than two centimeters, equipped with a precise neural power cell enough to last for years.
A living weapon. Connected directly to his mind.
When he regained the ability to speak, he burst out shouting:
— "Get me out of here!"
He resisted the straps violently. The metal bed shook under his body. But to no avail.
A man speaking fluent English entered. He sat before him and said with cold calm:
— "Calm down, Ahmed."
Ahmed gasped violently.
— "Who are you?!"
The man smiled a smile void of mercy.
— "We are a secret facility belonging to the Diamond Gang."
Ahmed froze.
— "Why me?"
The man displayed a video clip on a small screen. It was the video filmed of him previously... when he showed incredible aiming skills.
The man said:
— "Your talent is rare. Your combat precision is exceptional. That is why we chose you to be the first field model for the Synaptech NeuroLink G1."
Ahmed gasped.
— "What are you going to do to me?"
The man replied:
— "We are going to release you. But when we need you... we will summon you. And your body will obey our orders, whether you want to or not."
Ahmed felt the blood freeze in his veins.
The Return to the Unknown
Hours later... they led him handcuffed to Moscow Airport. They uncuffed him moments before the gate. They gave him a flight ticket. Then they vanished, as if they had never been there at all.
Ahmed stood in the departure lounge, his face pale, his gaze frozen. He slowly raised his hand to his head. He felt the trace of the small scar hidden between his hair. The return flight to Sana'a would take eleven hours and forty minutes.
But to him... it felt like a journey toward an unknown darker than any tunnel he had ever entered in his life. He boarded the plane in silence and sat by the window.
Then he whispered to himself:
— "What have you done to me...?"