Recall (16 page)

B
eyond the first blast door was another, already open to the bunker. The blue smoke from the heat charge stung Red's nose like when he'd cut through the brake line of a '72 Plymouth Fury while learning to weld in shop class. The bunker was about thirty feet square, lined with black metal shelving. Two matching metal doors stood closed on the far end. Bare cement walls and ceiling were streaked with brown water stains. The room smelled like piss. A single fluorescent light, presumably on battery power, cast a dim glow.

Directly under it was Lori. Her hair was knotted and her pink pajamas hung stiffly, but she wasn't bruised or bloody. Her wrists lay handcuffed on her lap.
She was alive
. Her eyes were inset deeply, darkened in their sockets. She glanced at Red, smiled faintly, but then returned her stare to the floor.

A man in gray slacks and a white oxford shirt stood behind her with an automatic pistol to her head. He was Amin. Red had never heard other names, just Amin. He was the one who had tortured him six years ago and put an end to his career at the Det. With medium build, olive skin, and dark-brown eyes set close together, he had shiny black hair, neatly cut short; no beard or mustache. He was VEVAK, a spy, or maybe both.

Two Iranian infantrymen stood guard to the side, AK-47s trained on Red and Lanyard. A single star on the collar indicated one was a lieutenant. Several chevrons and rockers on the other meant a high-ranking noncommissioned officer, maybe master sergeant. The lieutenant jerked the aim of his weapon between Red and Lanyard, but the master sergeant held steady on Red. A purple scar crossed his cheek pointing upwards, as if smiling.

Who were the tags? Were they in the other rooms? They could go to hell. The red dot from his laser sight searched for Amin's head, but the torture master ducked behind Lori.

“Drop them or I'll shoot the girl!” he said with an accent from Massachusetts. “If you do anything other than what I say, I'll shoot the girl! If you move too quickly, I'll shoot her.”

Red weighed his choices. If he shot Amin, the guards would get him, but Lori probably wouldn't make it. He could take out the guards and count on his vest to protect him, but Amin would shoot Lori. He dropped to a knee and placed his rifle gently onto the wet floor, then laid his sidearm next to it. Lanyard did the same.

Amin peered out from behind Lori. “I did not expect
you
to be here, Red. When I heard the shots I didn't get too excited, in case you were too cowardly to come. Do you remember me?”

“You still look like a camel's ass. That's one thing I haven't forgotten.”

Red glanced sideways and noticed the two guards didn't react to the insult. They didn't speak English, so probably weren't tags.

“And you came anyway, knowing I would be waiting? Maybe I misjudged you. I heard you had some problems with your memory after I beat you senseless. I'm glad it's back. We've unfinished business.”

“We've got an entire team upstairs. There's no way you're getting out. If you hurt Lori or any of us, it'll mean your death. If you lay down your weapon I'll—”

“You are not the one in charge here, infidel! You
and
your team will do exactly as I say or I will blow off parts of your wife, starting with her feet.”

Red stood tall. “I'm ordered to take you alive. I'm extending the honor of—”

“You're as arrogant now as last time! You're blind. I've studied you many years. How ironic that I'm holding—”

Lori smashed her heel onto the top of Amin's foot, producing a muffled
crunch
. She ducked her head and his weapon fired, hitting one of the guards in the shoulder. She slipped her hand over Amin's and squeezed the trigger till the magazine was empty, before the other guard could bring his weapon to bear. As the enemies fell limp to the concrete, she looped Amin's neck with the cuff chain and pulled him onto her shoulders, suspended by his throat. He flailed until his eyes rolled back and his body fell limp. Where the hell did she learn to do that?

Red and Lanyard picked up their weapons and aimed them at the two closed doors. Lori dropped Amin to the concrete, catching his head with her foot and lowering it down. Then she wound up and gave him two kicks in the ribs. She leaned into his face. “First time in two days you've stopped talking, damn narcissist!”

Red kept his eyes on the doors and pulled a fragmentation grenade from his vest. “Don't kill him,” he said.

“There's no one else down here. Those rooms are empty.” She ran and threw her cuffed arms around his neck and gave him a bear hug along with a peck on the lips. “You're a sight! Haven't seen you in blackout for years!” She grimaced. “You smell like shit.”

“I love you, too. The river doubles as a sewer.”

“The kids?”

“With my parents.”

“Oh, thank God! I thought they'd maybe gotten you or them or—” She put her hand to her mouth. A tear ran down her cheek. She pointed to a table in the corner. “The keys for the cuffs are there. He may not be out much longer. Get me out of these. You've got some serious problems with your exfil, whatever it is.”

Red slipped the grenade back beneath an elastic strap on his vest, grabbed the keys from the table. Lanyard grabbed a spool of copper wire off a shelf and tied Amin in a wooden chair.

Red flipped on his comm and got Jim up to speed. Lori borrowed Lanyard's.

Jim's voice betrayed doubt. “Lori, you're a tag?”

She picked up Amin's pistol from the floor and rummaged through a wooden box on the shelf, pulling out a handful of 9mm ammo. “Jim, secrecy kept me alive for three days. I'm not gonna drop it now.”

“Red?”

“Got a memory issue, sir. Surprise to me as well.”

“Like hell.”

Lori made a hatchet motion with her arms. “We need a new exfil. One of the drivers is a double. I'm not good at Farsi, but I overheard a little. The driver is pretending to be bought off by Mossad. I don't know anything else. There's no way you can call in an extraction here. The beltway doesn't have the balls for it. Who's your interrogator—or do I have to do this myself?”

“He's on his way in.”

* * *

Gravel crunched in the distance and Carter turned toward it. The sound came from the road where they'd sent the Israelis to hole up one klick away. He pulled his optics back down and switched to thermal. His vantage atop the pile of rocks gave him a clear line of sight. A cat, or maybe a small dog, walked across the road with its young dangling by the scruff of its neck. Nothing else warm was moving.

Carter flipped the imager up and rubbed his eye. How the hell did this happen? He'd taken the cut in pay and put up with the sheriff to get away from stuff like this. Now he was in deeper than he'd ever been. His wife would kill him if she knew where he was.

He held up his hand and studied its calluses. Once a friend had believed in him, too, so it was only right that he was paying it forward. He leveled his eyes back on the road and flexed his biceps hard to keep from shivering. The wind came across the river and hit his wet fatigues, sending the chill deeper than he had felt in a long time. If he had to defend his position, he couldn't shoot true. The colonel sat one boulder above him and tapped his shoulder with his boot. “He's on his way in,” he said, then pointed to the warehouse.
Go
, he mouthed.

Anything to get moving. Carter jumped down the pile of boulders and sprinted to the warehouse and down the stairs. The cool air in the bunker felt warm to his skin. He strode to a wooden table with a small bowl of half-eaten yellow rice and some green vegetable, placed his weapon next to it, and began shrugging off equipment. Pointing to Lanyard, he said, “Upstairs. You're with the colonel. Keep an eye to the west. I heard something earlier, on the road maybe.”

Carter punched his comm, “Colonel, now is the best time to get info. What am I authorized to do?” The colonel wouldn't put any limits on him, but he needed the okay.

“Just don't kill him.”

“Understood. What do you want to know?”

“Who and what. How is our exit compromised? We still need the good drivers for our escape, if there are any. You've got five minutes, unless someone shows up before then.”

Carter grabbed Lori and Red and pulled them in. “I'm calling the shots on this. It's an act and you're a part of it. You do exactly as I say, no questions, no matter what.”

A gurgle came from behind them. Amin's head was craned backwards and he was trying to raise it upright. Carter waited till Amin's eyes focused, then shoved Red toward him. “Hold his chair!” He pointed to Lori and yelled, “Get some water and throw it on him if he tries to pass out again!”

He came close to Amin and stooped. The man's pupils were normal size, expanding when Carter's head cast a shadow over them. A loop of Amin's
Misbaha
, prayer beads, stuck out of his chest pocket. His jugular swelled rhythmically, pulse only slightly elevated. This may not go their way. It was best to see some fear from the start.

Carter stepped to the table and unzipped a small black satchel, removed two syringes, and placed them on the table. “Hold him steady,” he said. Amin tried to squirm away but Carter jabbed the first syringe into his arm, emptying its contents, then turned back toward the table.

“What was that?” Amin asked with a smirk. “Some kind of truth serum? It only makes me sleepy.”

Carter whirled around and backhanded him. Amin's neck craned sideways and his incisor broke through his lip. Red's feet shuffled as the chair leaned with the blow. Carter grabbed Amin's head between his hands and screamed, “Listen, pig! I'm not new at this!” Then he bounced Amin's head off the chair's backrest.

He wound up and backhanded Amin from the other side. Pain shot all the way up to his elbow from a previously fractured knuckle. He wound up again, but paused when an image he'd tried to forget flashed into his mind. It was the bloodied face of an unconscious North Korean naval weapons officer, listing sideways in a metal chair. Carter had fractured his knuckle on the officer's jaw. He'd given them the information they needed, but it took three days. Carter dropped his hand and licked a corner of his mouth. He didn't have three days. He barely had three minutes.

“I just gave you a mixture I like. Midodrine and adrenaline. It makes sure you don't pass out from what I'm about to do to you. You won't get any relief, unless your heart explodes first. You'll feel it any second.”

Carter took the second syringe and jabbed it into Amin's other arm. “This one is my own cocktail. Tumor necrosis factor and naloxone. Increases sensitivity to pain. Your nerves will fire uninhibited, and you won't pass out. Truth serum,” he said with a laugh, “is for amateurs.”

Carter's challenge was to leave no doubt Amin's answers were true, but with a short interrogation. He had to open strong. He grabbed his KA-BAR from his vest, bent down, and rammed it through the top of Amin's shoe till its point dug into the concrete floor. Amin's eyes bulged and watered as he tried to keep from screaming.

Carter pulled out a third syringe, put his boot between Amin's legs, then leaned into his face, putting all his weight onto the Iranian's crotch. Amin's jugular was bulging at a faster pace, but his pupils were still the same. Carter held up the syringe and pointed it at Amin's eye. “This one is a mild narcotic to take the edge off the pain. I'm
not
going to give this to you. Not unless you tell me exactly what I ask.

“You'll wish you could die, but I won't allow you to be a martyr. You'll live with your failures!” He pointed to the two bodies on the floor. “They died in the service of Allah. You couldn't even do that right. I'm an infidel, but even I know Allah is
not
pleased. You're a total failure, so he gave you to me.”

Carter turned and let loose with his good fist across Amin's nose, offsetting it with a
crunch
. He pointed to Lori. “You were bettered by a woman! Allah even brought Red into your lair tonight and you failed again. Your commander will kill you when he learns of it! VEVAK will rape and kill your family. You know it's true. You've done it yourself!”

Carter stood upright and backhanded Amin repeatedly, alternating sides, spraying blood and drool across Lori's midsection. He stooped and grabbed the chair arms, his face so close that he could smell Amin's cigar breath. Spittle sprayed into Amin's eyes as he shouted, “You'll be treated in the afterlife like a pig, worse than an infidel! I've heard your imam. If I kill you now, you'll meet your family in hell and they'll curse you.”

Amin squirmed upright, tilting his face away. Was that the start of what Carter was looking for? He struck again, the beatings flowing more naturally now. He couldn't lose control, but needed to get dangerously close. With each swing he was falling into his role. He turned his back and rubbed the snot from his nose onto his sleeve, hand quivering. His eyes were burning. Sweat ran down his face in the cold air.

He whirled back around. Amin groaned as he lifted him by the hair, craning his neck backwards, and put a finger into his eye. “Show yourself a man!”

Beads of sweat dripped from Amin's forehead. The pupil of the one eye he could see was dilated. It was a start. The seed of fear had taken root. Now was the time to show him an out.

“If you tell me what I ask, I'll let you live. You may even have time to seek Allah's forgiveness and make up for your failures.”