A blast from the past

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Jake's POV (A week ago)

I groaned as the blindfold was removed from my eyes. Odd. Very odd. Why would they blindfold me in the first place? I see a man in the suit. I take in my surroundings. The room I was in was not like an interrogation room at all. It looked like a room that hosted numerous artifacts. Could be a study or a lounge? Wait. Interpol probably had a huge budget to be able to swing this.... The man in the suit uncuffed me. Weird. And he left the room without a word. I try following him, but he slammed the door on my face. Great. What was this place? I look around from top to bottom. Cameras and mics surrounded the place. Hmmm not odd. The Interpol probably wanted to keep an eye on me. Wait but why am I not at a proper interrogation room. The men had not said a word to me during the duration of the flight. Could be because they wanted me to talk first. Something was bothering me immensely. How did they know I would be on the flight? The only people who knew that were... Just then the door flung open, and a man walked in. He was wearing a different suit. Before I could say anything, he bowed and said, "You must be famished. Please accept this humble meal. Let me know if you need anything else?" I narrowed my eyes at the cart that he had rolled in. It had an assortment of dishes covered with cloches. "How am I supposed to tell you anything?" I asked. "Just say the word, I will be listening in." "I don't suppose you will tell me how to get out of here now, would you?" I asked sarcastically. "I am afraid not Sir," he said. He then just bowed and walked away. Before closing the door, he turned around and said, "Do not worry Sir. The food isn't poisoned, and you may want to eat it to keep your strength."
Weird. I ignored the food. Not Poisoned? Right. I looked around the room. There must be something here that might help me. I try to look for any electronic devices around. Absolutely nothing. What is this place? My eyes trail towards the paintings on the wall. Expensive. I keep watching the paintings as my eyes rest on a familiar painting. I'll be damned. I blink rapidly. The painting was of the town of Parga. Of course. I go back to the cart that was rolled in and open the cloches. Tim Tams. I chuckle. "Okay fun's over. Come on out. I know who you are." "That took 20 mins. Too slow, man. You are losing your power of intuition," his voice said softly. I turn around to see him sitting on a chair. "How did you get in?" I asked. "First of all. Why did you not try getting out?" "I thought I was captured by Interpol. I didn't want to dig a deeper hole for myself," I said. He scoffed, "Please. You missed an obvious clue, but that's besides the point. You ignored the obvious." He walked over to the door and opened it effortlessly. I scratched the back of my neck, "The door was already unlocked."
He smirked, walked over to me and hugged me, "It's been a long time." "The longest. How have you been Damian?" I asked. "Better than you, Hermês." I groaned, "Don't call me that." Damian or better known as Poseidon, was my contact in the Pantheon. He also taught me to not be an idiot in the real world. It was a surreal experience. An Australian by birth, Damian had moved to Parga when he was "recruited" to the pantheon. However, Damian was replaced unceremoniously. For reasons unknown. I never asked. No one told me. Eventually Damian became a contractor for us for special conditions. He was very good at the art of illusion. He had started out as a thief, a pickpocket to be exact. Over the time, his loot changed from wallets to expensive art. My boss found him when he tried stealing an artifact from his client's home. He was impressed. Damian then became Poseidon. He was in what I assumed to be his late thirties or early forties, not that it mattered. His skills were what made him very resourceful.
Switcheroos were his specialty. I remember during on of his tasks, Damian managed to switch a diplomat with his look alike. The look alike was trained so well that he was able to fool the diplomat's security detail for hours while some client interrogated the diplomat. No muss no fuss. Nobody was the wiser. Illusionist. That's what he was. "So what am I doing here, Damian?" I asked, knowing that this wasn't a social meeting. He sighed, "Honestly, I don't know. You tell me. Why did Zeus ask me to make you disappear?" I raised my eyebrows, "Really? Weird as he has been ducking me. He wanted to kidnap me now?" Damian eyed me suspiciously, "He didn't want to kidnap you. He wanted you gone. He wanted me tip off the Interpol to get you arrested. What did you do to piss him off?"
I thought for a minute but didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. Or if I should say anything. "Come on. Do you seriously doubt me?" he asked. "Well technically, you did kidnap me." He groaned, "Ok let's trade then. A few weeks ago, Zeus put out feelers to see if anyone was available to be an informant to the Interpol. You know I still have connections with his other contractors, so imagine my shock when the person he wanted to throw to the dogs was you. First I thought he just wanted you to be captured and brought to him. But his directions were very specific. He wanted you to be caught by the Interpol. He even had evidences regarding all your doings to convict you. And to top it all he wanted video evidence of your capture." "And you took up the contract?" I said dryly. "I did. Well not directly. I got a contractor to take up the task from Zeus and told the contractor that I would do everything. All he had to do was communicate with Zeus as if he was working the job. But it was weird. I wanted to know for myself why this was happening. Zeus would never say. So my only option was you. I kept an eye on all your known aliases and found out that you were flying to Geneva under the name Dominic Stavros. So I just switched you out," he said trailing. Confused I asked, "How?" He smiled, "I told you. Your habits will be the death of you. You always like getting on the flight at the last minute. Remember the woman with a child in front of you at the ticketing counter? Poor woman spilled her coffee on the agent behind the counter. The agent was in such a hurry to change, he didn't notice the person relieving him was not his colleague at all." I vaguely remembered that. I shut my eyes, "The woman and the colleague were your plant." "Precisely. The colleague handed you a boarding to a different flight to Geneva. I then got a few people to act as the Interpol to arrest you, and had the video sent to Zeus via the contractor he actually hired for the job," Damian remarked. "Wait. That means Zeus now knows that I am not in the Interpol custody." "Not really. I got an imposter to be "Dominic Stavros", put him on the flight you were supposed to board and got the actual Interpol to arrest him. So even if Zeus contacts the Interpol, they will say they have a Dominic Stavros in their custody," he said nonchalantly. "You got an innocent man arrested?" I yelled. "Relax. He will be released in a few days. Plus he is getting paid for it. Now how about you tell me what is going on?" He asked. I contemplated. Even if it wasn't clearly evident, I was a prisoner here. I had no clue if Damian would let me out without an explanation.

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