Harry Narayan was working at home when the power went out. He’d been tracing the connections between a series of disappearances that had occurred around the time of Akil Myam’s disappearance.
Writing about Akil had left an impact on him – he was so troubled by the mystery surrounding the disappearance – it had never felt ‘right’ to him, and the more he discovered about the other missing 16 year olds, the more wrong it seemed.
He had made contact with a couple of hackers who had promised to help and he was intending to chat with them in a few minutes. It was nearly 3am, but that was hackers for you. He could do with the power coming back on.
His door rattled.
He went up to look through the peephole, but before he could do that, the door swung open and what looked like seven, eight, or even figures, all clad in black, marched in. He remembered being grabbed.
The next thing he knew, he woke up on a bed, in a cell, feeling stunned.
Over the next few days he was interrogated about what he knew, was refused a lawyer, and was told he was in breach of the Official Secrets Act.
He was allowed out of his cell to eat. The other prisoners weren’t allowed to discuss their crimes, but he suspected they were convicted of similar crimes to himself.
He was eventually allowed to read, and the prisoners could watch two hours of film or pre-recorded television a day in the communal room, but they were never allowed to talk, or write, or see visitors, go online or access the news. This was his existence every day for over two years.
Then one day the door opened.
‘Mr Narayan, come on, it’s time to go.’
And just like that, with no warning or explanation, Harry Narayan was a free man.