It was the 3rd day of getting tortured.  I hadn’t slept, eaten, or had anything other than hot tea since I was arrested.  I’ve been electrocuted, drowned, and beaten again and again.  I was hurting and cold and hungry as hell.  I should’ve ordered a pizza with my one phone call instead of asking for the Embassy.  My interrogators had grown completely impatient with me.  I hadn’t answered any of their questions the way they wanted.  I assume they were insanely jealous by the size of my gynormous penis, and the simple fact I knew how to read and write, because that last day, they beat the shit out of me.  They simply wanted me to admit the drugs were mine.  I admitted nothing.  I left that room getting dragged, but my head was high.

I slept on the long ride to what would be my home for the next 3 years.  Adiala Central Jail in Rawalpindi.  About an hour and a half from where I was locked up.  Roughly an hour from Islamabad.  This jail was the biggest prison in all of Pakistan.  It was built in 1986.  Only meant to house 1600 prisoners.  There were currently over 6000 prisoners.  100′s coming and going every day.  There were no Americans in any prison in all of Pakistan.  There were several foreigners though.  Mostly from Africa.  Nigeria and South Africa to be specific.  And a handful of Europeans.  The majority of the rest were from India, Iran, Afghanistan, a few Chinese, Daniel Pearls Killer, the pan-am Hi-Jackers of 1986.  The leader of the Shia’s (about 5 million followers) 2 future leaders of the country (Yusuf Raza Gillani, the future Prime Minister,  and Sadr Asif, Bennazir Bhutto’s husband and current President of Pakistan) I wouldn’t become friends with either of them for a while.  And many many more.  So many different countries, and people, and they all had one thing in common.  They hated America.  I was going to have to earn respect and that’s what I aimed to do.  I was done being scared.  I hadn’t been scared since I barracaded the door at the airport.  I’ve been mad as hell and iching to get my hands on the son of a bitch bastard that framed me.  That son of a bitch Rai.

The van pulled up to the prison.  I had gained my 4th wind by then.  The guards around me escorted me to the huge iron gates with the gun tower turrents all around it.  This prison was a quarter mile by a quarter mile.  It was massive.  The gates were opened and a larger inner chamber that reminded me of a small plane hanger was opened up to me.  Before the gates to the prison were opened up, the outter doors would be closed behind me.  The guards loved the fresh. Love laughing and giggling at my arrival.  I had no clue what anyone was saying.  They took my chains off and had me give a thumb print on some huge book that had just countless names, and thumb prints next to them.  On the other side of this room was a board that had all the under trials, death rows, woman prisoners, prisoners in general. It basically had the numbers of who was there and for what.  And the total was over 6000.  Damn.

I was lead over to the gate facing the prison, and the minute before the gate was opened, i felt like i was in the movie Gladiator.  That scene before he goes into his first battle and was chained to the other prisoner.  The shadows of people on the other side of the door and a large crowd waiting to see what happened.  Only I was the only one getting to face it.  Oh baby was I looking forward to this.  This was just opening kick off for me.  Who was I gonna get first.  The small door was opened in the much larger door and I stepped through, but not before a guard decided to slap the back of my head, sort of a final fuck you before i entered the prison.  Asshole.  I stepped into a much larger concrete yard filled with 100′s of prisoners.  Some wearing their outside clothes.  Most wearing Shalawar Kameez.  And a large amount wearing the same thing that ended up being prisoners that ran the prison as far as the every day upkeep.  Keeping prisoners in order, telling them where they’d be staying and getting processed.  These prisoners and I were going to get aquanted real fast.

I dont remember how the fighting started.  I remember it felt like I hopped the fence at a junior high school.  I was throwing people around like rag dolls.  I was much bigger and stronger than everyone.  But I was way too outnumbered.  I was making every punch count, and damn well enjoying it too.  But it wasn’t going to end easy.  It never did.  The guards finally got involved when I threw a little guy hanging off my back like a gremlin off a second tier into the cheering crowd below.  They didn’t care that i was the one defending myself.   That I obviously didn’t start it, but just because I finished it, i was going to get punished.  Prison style.  I would end up spending my first 5 days in Cussory.  Punishment cell.  Good times.

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