by Ethan Jones
“We have and are doing that, Hall. You just need to follow the intel.”
“Sure, we’ll do that. Where does the signal place Lim at the moment?”
Suen did not reply right away. A shuffling of papers came from the background, then he said, “I’ll have to check. The last report I received placed him in the village.”
“All right. We’ll expect an update as soon as you know.”
“Of course. Now, what is your plan to find Ying?”
Justin glanced at Carrie, who shrugged and shook her head. “We’re interrogating everyone who saw or heard anything. Depending on what we find, we’ll come up with a rescue plan.”
“You’ll go back to the village to free her?” Suen’s question sounded more like an order.
“If that’s where she is, then yes.”
“Good, keep me informed about the progress.”
“We’ll do that. Anything else?”
“No. You’re good to go.”
“Have a good day, Suen.”
“Yes, Hall, you too.”
Justin ended the call and sighed. “What a waste of precious time.”
Carrie nodded. “As expected. And we have no plans to go back to Rutbah, right?”
“Of course not.”
“Even if Ying’s still there?”
“She’s long gone. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced she played us. I can’t believe I fell for it.”
Carrie gave him a reassuring smile. “We all did, Justin. This is not your fault. We couldn’t have known.”
“Yes, but we could have expected it.”
“We did. We kept Ying at arm’s length. She knows only what she needed to know. Nothing crucial.”
“Well, apparently she knows about Thames.”
“We’re not sure about that. Even if she did, Ying didn’t learn it from us.”
Justin stood up. “It’s time to figure out how. Maybe Thames has the answer.”
Carrie opened the door, and they hurried down the hall and through the yard, toward the house across the street, where the SAS operative was being held.
Chapter Thirty-two
Saloya, five miles north of Rutbah
Iraq
Thames’s hands were still cuffed behind his back. He was sitting in a plastic chair in the middle of the small room with his head leaning to one side. His left eye was swollen, and he had two fresh bruises on his cheeks and a three-inch-long cut along his jawline. Blood was slowly trickling from the wound and down Thames’s neck.
Stephan was standing on one side, tossing a large serrated knife from one hand to the other. He cast a dark gaze at Justin and Carrie and tightened his fingers around the knife’s handle.
“This happened before I got here, but, as you can see, he’s still alive,” Isaac said in a cold voice with no hint of regret. He was leaning against the wall, a couple of steps away from Stephan.
“Not for long,” Stephan spat out his words. “If I had my way, he would already be eating sand.”
Justin shook his head. “Isaac, we had a deal.”
“We still do. He’s alive and ready to talk.”
“He’d better talk, or I’ll cut off his tongue.” Stephan stepped closer to Thames.
Thames did not move at all. Perhaps he was in shock because of the torture or too weak for even the smallest gesture.
Justin pointed at Stephan. “Get him out of here,” he said to Isaac. “Before I lose it.”
“Or what? You’re gonna do what?” Stephan walked toward Justin, swinging his knife.
Justin threw his body to the side. He grabbed Stephan’s extended arm and wrist, then knocked the knife out of his hand. Stephan returned a swift punch, but Justin blocked it with his other arm. Then he raised his elbow, which caught Stephan across his face.
Stephan lost his balance for a moment and held on to the wall. Then he lurched forward.
“Enough.” Isaac pulled out his pistol. “Both of you. Stop it. Now!”
Justin’s eyes never left Stephan, who was picking up his knife.
Isaac said to Stephan, “Wait outside.”
He nodded. “We’re not done.” He pointed the knife at Justin.
The Canadian shrugged but kept his glare on Stephan until the towering German left the room.
Isaac walked up to Justin. “What are you doing?”
“Didn’t you see he attacked me?”
“Because you provoked him.”
“He deserved it. Now, can we talk to him?” Justin gestured at Thames.
Isaac holstered his pistol and stretched his arms. “Suit yourself. He hasn’t said a word.”
“That’s because you’re torturing him. Isaac, you know better than this. He’s SAS. He’s not going to break because you beat him up or cut his face.”
“How are you going to make him talk?”
Justin walked to Thames and crouched so he could be at his eye level. “Uncuff him,” he said to Isaac.
“No.”
“Where’s he going to go? He’s a beaten man. Uncuff him, but have your gun ready, if you need to.”
Isaac shook his head, but he uncuffed Thames’s hands.
“Carrie, do you mind getting me water and rags?”
“Sure.”
“What, are you a nurse now?”
“No, but if I were in his place, I’d want someone to show compassion.”
“You’re in the wrong profession, Justin, if you expect compassion from your captors.”
“I don’t expect it. But we want intel from Thames, right? Well, let’s give him something, so he can give us something back.”
Isaac shrugged. “Let’s see if your ‘kindness’ will work.”
“Thames. Hey, Malcolm, can you hear me?”
Thames flinched at the sound of his name. He tried to open his good eye, but the gesture proved to be too much. He opened his mouth and said in a low, raspy voice, “Who ... who are you?”
“My name is Hall, Justin Hall. I work for the CIS, the Canadian Intelligence Service. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”
“About?”
Before Justin could reply, Carrie stood next to him. She handed Justin a plastic cup of water, which he held in front of Thames’s cracked and bloodied lips. “Have a drink.”
Thames began to shake his head.
“You need it, come on.”
Thames hesitated for a long moment, then he leaned closer to the cup. He drank it slowly, while a few drips trickled down his chin.
When Thames was finished, Justin took one of the rags Carrie had brought and dipped it in the water container she had placed close to his feet. He wrung the rag until it was just damp and began to clean Thames’s face and his wounds. Thames winced and moved his head away.
“No, no, be still, don’t move,” Justin said.
He switched the rags when the first one became caked with dirt and blood. “We’ll get you all fixed up, especially that.” He pointed at Thames’s thigh. Blood had soaked through his desert camouflage pants.
“Why ... why are you doing this?” Thames asked, still in his coarse voice.
“Because I want you to help us. We’re looking for someone you may know.”
“And why would I help you, after all this?” He moved his head slowly, and his eyes went to his leg wound.
“Because Stephan is going to cut your head off if you don’t,” Isaac shouted.
Justin gave Isaac a harsh glance, then said, “Because I’m your only hope. There’s no rescue, no one but us knows that you’re here. If I leave this room, Stephan will kill you. It will be a very slow, painful death. I’m sure you’ve seen jihadist execution videos, right?”
Thames did not reply but gave Justin a blank look. “After I tell you what you want, you’ll let me go?”
“You need to tell me the truth; that’s what I want. I already have intel, so I know a lot of things. If you don’t lie to me and help me, I’ll get you out of here. You have my word.”
Thames said, “I’m not sure I can trust you,” and glanced at Isaac.
“Just give me a moment.” Justin stood up and walked to Isaac. “What are you doing?” he whispered as he grabbed the Mossad agent by the arm.
Isaac shoved away Justin’s hand. “Don’t try that again. He’s not going anywhere.”
“If he helps us, he has earned his freedom.”
“No. He has killed two of Stephan’s friends. He has to pay for that.”
“Look at him. Thames has already paid enough. He’ll probably lose his leg and never go back to the British service. And his government will compensate the families—”
“You think this is about money?”
“No, it’s about saving lives. The lives of their families, wives and children ... if they have them. Life in Iraq is rough. A few thousand dollars can change all that.”
“They don’t want money; they want revenge.”
“And they will get that. But Thames isn’t their enemy. He never was. He came to Iraq to escape, not kill.”
“But he did kill.”
“Who among us has not killed, Isaac? Listen, what Thames can tell us will save more lives. But if you kill him, what will you accomplish? How does this help the dead fighters, their families, anyone?”
Isaac did not reply right away. “It has to be done.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re the one still in charge here, right? You tell Stephan what to do and what not to do.”
Isaac stared deep into Justin’s calm eyes. “Of course I do. But this isn’t wise.”
“Once you hear what Thames knows, you’ll see it’s a great deal.”
Isaac thought about it for a long moment. He shrugged and said, “I don’t know, Justin. We’re taking a huge risk here.”
“Like in everything else we do. Let’s go talk to him now.” Justin motioned toward Thames.
Isaac hesitated for another beat, then nodded. “All right, but he’d better not lie to us.”
Justin returned to Thames and pointed at Isaac, “He has agreed to let you go, provided you tell us the truth.”
“He has?” Thames looked at Isaac.
“Yes, against my better judgment. I’m so close to changing my mind,” Isaac made a gesture with his hand, “and handing you back to Stephan, for your execution.”
Thames began to shake his head. “This is the deal you’re offering me?”
“Yes. It’s the best one—no, the only one you’ll get.”
Thames looked at the bloodstained floor, then up at Justin, “What do you want to know?”
“Why did you kill your fellow operative, Ramsey?”
Thames glanced down again and shrugged. “It ... it had to be done.”
“That’s not what he asked,” Isaac shouted.
“Why?” Justin said.
“Ramsey made threats, so...”
“Who did he threaten? You?”
“No.”
“What was the reason for the threats?” Isaac asked.
Justin locked eyes with Isaac. “I’ve got this, okay?” Then he said to Thames, “Did Ramsey threaten Mary, your girlfriend?”
“How ... how do you know about her? Where is she? Is she safe?”
Carrie stepped closer to Thames, who struggled to get to his feet. “Stay there. Don’t move.”
Thames nodded. “Tell me she’s all right.”
“You last talked to her in London,” Justin said to Carrie. “How was she?”
“Mary is doing fine. She misses you and would like to see you again.”
“As soon as we’re finished here,” Justin said. “So, why did Ramsey threaten your girlfriend? What did he want?”
Thames’s tired eyes flitted between Carrie, Justin, and Isaac. “I ... if I tell you that, Mary will die.”
“I just told you she’s okay. I met with her. There’s no one coming after her.”
“Not yet, but once I talk—”
“Once you talk, we can help you and Mary. But if you don’t talk and something bad happens to her, this will be on you.”
Thames said, “All right, all right. I’ll tell you what you want to know, but promise me you’ll keep Mary safe.”
“We will,” Carrie said.
Thames glanced at Justin. “Say it.”
“Her word is not enough for you?”
“You’re the one in charge.”
“We’ll take care of Mary.”
Thames nodded slowly and said, “Ramsey wanted me to do a side job for a friend of his.”
“Which friend?”
“He didn’t tell me the name.”
“What was the job?”
“It was a hit.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Saloya, five miles north of Rutbah
Iraq
“Where was the hit going to take place?” Justin asked
“London. A foreign president or prime minister—he wasn’t sure—who was coming for a visit.”
“When?”
“We didn’t get that far. I refused, and he said he’d kill me. Then he began to badmouth and threaten Mary, and that’s when I lost it.”
“You killed Ramsey?”
Thames offered a small shrug. “It was self-defense.”
Carrie said, “You shot him in the back.”
“Yes, well ... we wrestled and exchanged punches, then ... things took that turn.” Thames’s voice rang with regret.
“All right, let’s backtrack.” Justin stepped closer to Thames. “Back to London, when you last saw Mary. That Saturday, you went out for a jog. You remember that?”
Thames flinched. He dropped his eyes to the ground, then looked firmly at Justin. “I might have. It’s been a long time.”
“Well, you did go for a jog. Tell me who you met and why.”
Thames hesitated for a second, then said, “Hmmm, it was an old friend.”
“From the SAS training days?”
Thames gave Justin a resigned look. “If you know about it, why are you asking me?”
“Because I want to know what you and Zhang discussed.”
Thames sighed. “You know the answer to that too.”
“Well, confirm it for me.”
“It was the hit, the assassination.”
“Same target?”
“Yes, same everything. I said I wasn’t interested, of course, regardless of the money he offered. And I told Zhang that he was crazy and soon would be a dead man.”
“Did you go to the police?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone about Zhang’s proposal?”
“I didn’t.”
“Why not? Do you not love your country?” Isaac said with scorn clear in his voice.
“I would die for my country, so don’t you accuse me of that. Zhang was an old friend. I tried to change his mind; explain to him it wasn’t going to work. At the end of our meeting, he seemed persuaded. And I thought he could also convince his boss...” Thames bit his lip, and his voice trailed off.
“His boss? Who is that?”
Thames shook his head. “I ... I don’t know. Zhang talked about his boss, but never mentioned—”
“You’re lying,” Isaac shouted. “You caught yourself after slipping up and mentioning him. Give us his name.”
Justin nodded. “He’s right. The name.”
“I ... I didn’t learn the name.”
“Let me refresh your memory. Does the name Huang Lim ring a bell?”
Thames’s face twisted in pain, or perhaps it was because he was caught in a lie. “I ... yes, I remember the name, but I never met him—”
Isaac shook his head. “You’re lying to us, you piece of—”
Justin said, “Let him talk, Isaac. Go on...”
“I never met Lim. We talked on the phone once, a couple of days after my meeting with Zhang.”
“You speak Chinese?” Carrie asked.
“Yes, but our
conversation was in English. Lim speaks it fairly well.”
“What did you talk about?” Justin said.
“He offered me money, but I told him to find someone else for this job.”
“Did Lim threaten you or Mary?”
“No.”
“Can you recognize his voice?”
“Maybe. I only talked to him once and for just a couple of minutes.”
“I have something I want you to listen to and translate for us.” Justin pulled out his phone. He slid through a series of screens, then tapped a few keys. When he found what he was looking for, Justin brought the phone close to Thames’s ear. “Tell me what Lim is saying.”
Justin tapped the Play button. The recorded phone conversation between Ying and Lim began to play. After about ten seconds, Thames said, “That’s not Lim.”
“What?”
“The man talking to the woman, that is not Lim.”
“Are you sure?” Justin peered deep into Thames’s eyes.
“Yes, absolutely.”
Justin stopped the recording. “You only spoke to Lim briefly, once—”
“Yes, but enough to recognize his strong voice. His was deep and throaty, not high-pitched like this one.” Thames tipped his head toward the phone and winced at the pain caused by the gesture.
A deep frown stretched across Justin’s forehead. “And the woman, do you know who she is?”
“No, first time I heard her voice.”
Justin bit his lip, then cursed out loud. “Let’s go,” he said to Carrie and headed toward the door.
“Wait, you don’t want to know what they said?”
Justin shook his head without looking back. “If the man’s not Lim, then it doesn’t matter.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but he was seething on the inside. Thames had just given them convincing evidence that Ying had tricked them.
Chapter Thirty-four
Saloya, five miles north of Rutbah
Iraq
Not even a sliver of doubt remained in Justin’s mind about Ying’s deceit. One of the Peshmergas that Carrie had contacted came through with some intelligence. According to this source, Ying’s role had been far from a simple advisor or observer. She had been one of the rescue team members who had stormed the village where the hostages had been held. The source noted that the Peshmergas were stunned at Ying’s bravery, tactical skills, and marksmanship.