"You were filming the scenes in the streets . . . from your balcony," one officer charged.
M offered to let them examine their cellphones. "Look at them," he recalled pleading. "We have not done anything wrong." Still, they were detained.
"You were filming the scenes in the streets . . . from your balcony," one officer charged.
M offered to let them examine their cellphones. "Look at them," he recalled pleading. "We have not done anything wrong." Still, they were detained.
"Our commander has video of all who have taken photos and photos of protesters," one officer told them. "If your faces aren't there, we will let you go immediately."
Instead, they were locked up in an underground cell near Tehran's Enghelab Square and then taken to another police station in south Tehran. There, the publisher said, he and about 200 other people were crammed into a courtyard and forced to stand in the hot sun without food or a place to rest. Nearly 36 hours passed.
That's when the gun-waving young man arrived.
After threatening the prisoners, he handed out forms that asked a single question: "Do you accept the charge of being involved in riots against national security and law and order of the country?"
Everyone reluctantly acknowledged the charges, M said. After collecting signatures, the man disappeared.
Other prisoners said that during these initial hours, they were pummeled by Basiji militiamen who told them they had been inspired to crack down by Khamenei's tears during a Friday sermon, which many interpreted as a green light.
" 'You have caused my beloved leader to burst into tears,' " another prisoner said he was told. " 'Now you deserve to be beaten.' "
Hours later, prisoners were packed into two buses, so crowded that they could barely move.
They were headed to the notorious Evin Prison, but M said he was relieved to get there. He knew that's where his family would look for him first. But he was horrified to learn that more than 500 prisoners would be crammed into a cell of about 500 square feet.
Older than most of the prisoners, M was designated the cellblock leader, in charge of scheduling four-hour sleeping shifts for the inmates, who had to stand during the rest of the time, share a single toilet or make quick calls to their family on a single phone.
At mealtime, they ate watery bean or noodle soup. To kill time, they debated politics and the nation's future.
Prisoners were frequently singled out and pulled away for interrogation. They came back hours later with bruises or with blood in their urine, he said. Some would be pulled out at 8 a.m. and returned 14 hours later, limping and exhausted.