Alex awoke some time later while strapped to a chair in the same exact interrogation chamber he was escorted to the first time he entered Iran under the alias of Omar Assad. He was groggy and lightheaded. After all, his skull had nearly been caved in from behind by a blunt instrument.
Standing in front of him were two men, one of which was middle-aged, and the other significantly younger, perhaps in his early thirties. The middle-aged man had grey hair and a matching beard. He was clearly a very high-ranking member of the Iranian Military, as he stood there dressed in a uniform which showed off his status as a general of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.
Knowing that such a high-ranking member of the Iranian government had come to visit him, Alex realized he was in deep shit. And thus sighed heavily as he shook his head. That is until the man looked at Alex in disgust and voiced his disdain for him.