Standing still in the middle of the living room, gripping his cup of coffee in both hands, Chad tried to think coherently. “I’ve made excellent progress tonight. The prisoner transfer forms from Ainsley’s office computer are printed, and a transfer request for Rowan is pending in Quantico’s system. I even have the schematics showing camera locations so Michael and Gabriel can avoid being identified.”
He took a gulp of coffee and continued. “Michael has a plan in place to get Ainsley out of town. It’s time for me to give my father a call, because I’m at my wits end as far as getting agent Capello away from Rowan. If he can call in a couple favors, we may be in luck. The other thing we don’t have is a transport vehicle of some sort, since we can’t pick up the rental for Michael. Wait – I bet we can use the Mercedes.”
His colleague stared transfixed at the TV. “God almighty, I never thought I’d see the day.” Turning to give him a sad look, Ralph continued. “I’m getting a crash course in what Rowan must have felt like when he saw all the lies about him on TV. It’s not a good feeling. You know what I mean?”
Attempting to shake off the mood, he stared grimly at Ralph. “I know, I know. Look, we’re going to get this done. Twenty-four hours from now, it’ll be over and we’ll all be safe. Shoot, we can cook out on the beach tomorrow night if we want.”
* * *
Swearing succinctly, gesturing in frustration at Gabriel and Danielle’s concerned glances, Michael washed a hand over his face. Could anything else possibly go wrong? Peering out the window as the G650 banked gently, he saw only blackness. “I’m not sure where we are. But you said we have the use of your father’s Mercedes? I have plates for it, so when all this is said and done and the security video is examined, they’ll have a hell of a time tracing that vehicle anywhere.”
Chad sounded as tired as he felt. “Sounds good, Mike. Give me a call when you’re about two hours out of Baltimore, and we’ll get underway. We’ve got everything you should need. You’ve got your ID’s, right? Sorry, I know that’s a stupid question, but I can’t think straight anymore.”
Shifting his weary body, he said a silent thank you for the luxurious seats in the aircraft. “Welcome to my world. This is the biggest FUBAR I’ve seen in a while. And we don’t have any idea what’s been happening to Rowan. I hope to God he can walk.”
Chad didn’t make him feel any better. “No shit. That CIA agent has had unlimited access to him for way too long. But hey, I’ve got a few extras that will help you once you get inside the brig.”
Massaging his burning eyes, he hoped they could pull Rowan out of Quantico and not end up incarcerated with him. “Sounds great, Chad. See you soon.”
* * *
Muscles tensed and throbbing, wondering what agent Capello had meant when he said, We’ll do this again with my own twist, Rowan shivered while sweat trickled down his back and sides. The guards had stomped in and dragged him back to the interrogation cell, then strung him up on tiptoe, with his arms stretched uncomfortably above his head. Tipping his head back, he squinted into the fluorescent lights at his bandaged wrists, enclosed in the steel cuffs, attached to a chain that connected to the eye bolt in the ceiling. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he shuddered at his helplessness and let his head hang.
Eyes closed, his mind wandered to Danielle. He wished he could see her one last time, to tell her how much he loved her. But that was a dream, like his life before, just a dream. The cuffs jerked on his wrists, and his eyes fluttered open. Reality was here, with the vicious man determined to destroy his mind and body. Trying to relieve his always aching left foot, wincing at the unrelenting pain in his shoulders, he told himself again that no matter what Capello did to him, he would never tell the bastard anything.
The lock turned, the door opened, and the agent strode into the cell. “Well, well, well. I’ve had an interesting dinner with an old adversary of yours.” The mention of dinner made his mouth water, and his stomach growled. Staring into the cold eyes, he swallowed. Capello slapped his cheek and he stumbled back, almost losing his balance. “You should cooperate with me, Milani. And really, don’t you know by now that all I want from you is the truth?”
The slap, along with the agent’s tiresome comment brought the remnants of his rage sputtering to the surface. “You want the truth, so here it is – I’m not a terrorist. I’d never betray my country. But you’re too stupid – or blind – to believe me.”
Standing back, arms crossed, Capello looked surprised. “I was starting to think you couldn’t talk, Milani. All right – maybe we can make some progress. For starters, where is the CIA’s jet? The theft of an aircraft like that is about a lot more than money. Surely you understand that you poked us in the eye by taking the crown jewel of the fleet.”
Still shivering, he gazed at Capello. The pain in his shoulders had turned white hot and stabbing. “I don’t know where that jet is, and I don’t even remember being on it.”
The agent frowned at him. “Come on. Who helped you that night? Who really orchestrated your escape?”
Something tickled at the back of his mind. The crafty agent knew something. “I’m never going to tell you. It would violate a commitment I made a long time ago to a certain group of people.”
Judging from the agent’s flushed face, his answers weren’t acceptable. Capello strode back and forth, glaring at him. “Eventually, you will tell me everything, Milani. But where’s the truth you said was forthcoming? So far, what you call the truth, I call lying.”
Seemingly out of nowhere, the agent’s heavy fist slammed into his side and he flopped back and forth like a fish on a line. While he struggled to breathe, Capello shifted adroitly and steadied him long enough for the same fist to slam into his other side and he choked, while his eyes watered and his nose ran.
Inexplicably, the detestable man heaved a sigh and leaned against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, rubbing thick hands vigorously while observing him with a sad smile. “Why are you protecting these people? You’re such a stubborn fool. And besides, it’s all over.” Capello uncrossed his ankles, shoved off the wall and paced around the cell. “We’ll take a short break while I tell you a story from dinner. You’re going to love this story.”
Sniffing at the stench of bleach overlaying the sour bouquet of sweat and urine that permeated the cell, he felt light-headed and nauseated. Capello stopped pacing and stood in front of him. “Does the name Muusa Shemal mean anything to you? If not, it should. That man is obsessed with you. Apparently he’s been tracking you for years, accumulating proof of your terrorist activities. Unfortunately for your loyal colleagues, Mr. Shemal identified them both this evening and informed us that they were responsible for incapacitating the CIA agents assigned to escort you to Washington, D. C.”
Thick blood in his throat made him cough and gag. He spat on the floor and smirked at Capello. “How did someone with your IQ become a CIA agent? Muusa Shemal has been devising a terror plot against the United States for decades, with financial backing from the Muslim Brotherhood. You have to understand – it’s not me who’s the terrorist, it’s Muusa Shemal.”
Capello shook his head. “The evidence against you is rock solid. But let’s get back to those loyal colleagues – Ralph Johnston and Chad Cantor. By now I’m guessing Rodney Ainsley is ready to arrest them. Who knows, he may bring them here. Aiding and abetting a terrorist is a serious crime.”
Straining to think beyond the agony in his body, he closed his eyes. If Capello thought Ralph and Chad had disabled the two CIA thugs, did he know about Michael and Gabriel? If his friends were in Ainsley’s custody, then he was lost in the hands of the people committed to his destruction. Blinking, he realized Capello was standing in front of him again. The man was quick for someone so blocky, and this time, the force of the blow knocked him off his feet.
Fists clenching as the cuffs dug into his wrists, he writhed in torment. The agent grabbed a handful of orange jumpsuit to hold him s
till and repeated the punishing blow on the other side of his ribcage. Sweat poured from his body while intense pain forced him to breathe in panting groans. The bastard had cracked his ribs.
The sadistic agent grasped his bearded chin, so he couldn’t look away. “Tell me the truth. That’s all I’m asking. After all Milani, I’ve given you an easy time. If you were interrogated in your homeland, my techniques would seem like a fun day on the playground.”
The impotent rage fired again and he whispered between groans. “I am in my homeland, you moron. Goddamn it…I’m an American citizen, and we don’t use enhanced interrogation techniques on our own people, or anyone. We’re too civilized for that.” He wanted to laugh, but could only manage a sneer. “I’m innocent until you find proof that I’m guilty.” Wheezing, voice rasping, he continued. “Why… Why won’t you believe me, you stupid son of a bitch? I…”
Losing his train of thought, head drooping after Capello let go of his chin, he fought the fuzziness in his brain, couldn’t ignore the knife-sharp agony accompanying every shallow breath. Coughing weakly, he spat more blood and struggled to lift his head. “Look…the truth is that I’ve been eliminating terrorists as part of a black ops team. That’s who helped me and I won’t give you their names. I won’t tell you where my family is, and I don’t know where that goddamned jet is… So do what you have to, but I’m finished.”
The indomitable agent waggled a finger in his face and shot him a mocking smile. “Now that’s where you’ve got it wrong, my friend.” When Capello paused, he let his eyes slide closed. A stinging slap on the cheek brought him back. “You know you’re headed to Torah Prison in Egypt, don’t you?”
Capello chuckled. “I’ll have more latitude as far as interrogation techniques in that facility. But we’re not finished here quite yet.” The door opened and two guards came into the cell. They undid the chain, lowered his arms and let him stand, swaying back and forth in front of Capello, who glared from one guard to the other. “Are you ready, your team assembled?”
Watching anxiously as the guards nodded, panic overwhelmed him when they yanked on his arms and had him staggering out the door between them. Oh Jesus, not again. As he stumbled down the hallway, he heard himself mumbling and hated the terrible desperation in his voice. “No, no I can’t. You can’t do this. Please don’t do this, I can’t do it.” Of course they ignored him, and when they buckled his body onto the board and leaned on his chest, he groaned.
Agent Capello grinned down at him, holding the black mask. “Last chance, Milani. Who planned your escape? Where are your girlfriend and your family?”
Mindless with pain, he managed to whisper. “No – I’m finished.” Then the mask covered his eyes and the cellophane clung to his face. The water poured and primal reactions took over. When his body heaved upward, the guards bore down and the pain went off the charts. From a long distance away he heard the guards swearing, felt Capello slapping his face, but he was gone.
Consciousness returned gradually, accompanied by stabbing pain in his chest. Turning his head slowly from side to side, he realized he was lying in a bed in the infirmary, restrained by leather straps and leg irons. Head lolling to one side, he closed his eyes. Capello was a fool. He would die before he told the son of a bitch anything. But once they had him in Egypt, Shemal would have his prize. He opened his eyes, felt them widen as despair mingled with sheer fright and slithered into his mind. The torture had yet to begin.
Incandescent golden light enveloped him and he remembered – he’d seen that light before. As the glow persisted, shimmering all around him, the monstrous pain receded and so did the fear, leaving him wrapped in peace. The radiance diffused throughout his wounded psyche, and a voice filled with kindness spoke. If you’ll only ask me Rowan, I will help you. What the hell was happening to him? The gentle voice whispered through his tortured mind once more. Ask me to rescue you. As the golden light dissipated, the agony and terror roared back, leaving him groaning. Tears slid down his cheeks. “I give up. Rescue me, please.”
* * *
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Early Friday Morning
The incessant ringing of the phone dragged Rodney Ainsley from the depths of sleep. He blinked in the pre-dawn darkness. Who could be calling at this hour? Murmuring a groggy hello, he was unprepared for the gracious, sympathetic voice. “Mr. Rodney Ainsley? This is Caroline Smith, the ER Charge Nurse at Roanoke Memorial Hospital. Your mother, Dorthea Ainsley, was transported here by ambulance approximately thirty minutes ago. I’m sorry to tell you Mr. Ainsley, she was hit by a car in front of her residence and sustained serious injuries. In addition to numerous contusions and a broken leg, we are concerned about internal bleeding.”
Head in his hands, he could barely comprehend her words. Since his father’s death the previous year, he had procrastinated on moving his mother to assisted living. “Ms. Smith, I will be there as soon as I can. Is there a direct number where I can reach you? I’d like to stay apprised of her condition.”
Caroline Smith answered in a soothing, professional manner. “Absolutely, Mr. Ainsley, This is my personal number at the hospital. We’re working on stabilizing your mother right now. Give me an hour before you call again. If anything changes, I’ll contact you immediately.”
His plans with Muusa Shemal and Sal Capello would have to wait. Personal matters forbade him from taking a Bureau aircraft, so he’d have to drive the almost 200 miles himself. “Thank you so much Ms. Smith. I’ll be on my way shortly.”
Georgia Cristo stuck out her tongue at the phone. “We’ll take good care of your mother, Mr. Ainsley. Please drive safely. I’ll speak with you again in an hour.” Smiling at Shasta and scratching the big dog’s head, she set down the satellite phone. Rodney Ainsley would waste most of the morning driving and then find out that a terrible mistake had been made. Leaning over, she gave the bulky Rottweiler a hug. “C’mon sweetie, let’s go make some coffee. It’s going to be a long day.”
* * *
Rowan sat hunched over on the edge of the bed in his cell, still cuffed and shackled, unable to move or breathe without intense pain. When he heard the lock turn in the door, he panicked, breath coming in agonizing gasps. Hearing a familiar voice cursing softly in Spanish, he steeled himself. It couldn’t be Gabriel, could it? Then a gentle hand touched his shoulder. Looking up, he gazed into Gabriel’s concerned eyes and forced his face to remain blank. Had his tortured mind retreated into memories again? Not trusting himself, he waited to see what would happen.
Gabriel stayed beside him, but glancing out the door he could see Michael, conferring with a guard and handing him some papers. Both his colleagues wore official FBI gear, including ball caps and sported photo IDs and badges. The guard smiled at Michael. “He’s all yours, special agent. And be careful, he’s a tricky son of a bitch to handle.”
Michael snorted. “Oh yeah, he looks tough to me. Don’t worry, we’ll exercise extreme caution.”
Gabriel grasped his upper arm and he flinched. “Come along, Mr. Hassani. You’re being transferred today. Cause any problems and we’ll kick your ass.”
Still thinking he might be hallucinating, he tried to stand, but couldn’t. Michael and Gabriel pulled him up and he moved numbly between them, plodding through a maze of hallways and clanging steel doors that left him shaking in fear. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face and his chest heaved. At any moment he expected to see either Ainsley or Capello.
Bright sunlight blinded him when they stepped outside. Gabriel opened the back door of a black Mercedes sedan with smoked windows and shoved him efficiently inside. Panting, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The humid warmth inside the vehicle felt good after the cold, damp cell. A touch on his forearm made him jump and his eyes snapped open. Michael was already in the driver’s seat and had twisted around. “Hey Rowan, we’ve got you. We’re going to get the hell out of here right now.”
Unable to respond, he closed his eyes again and took
shallow breaths in a futile effort to alleviate the all-consuming pain. The car shifted smoothly into motion, and he felt Gabriel unlocking the cuffs and the waist chain and then the leg irons, talking at the same time. “It’s all right now. You’re out of that hellhole and we won’t let them take you back. Are you with me, amigo? I need your help.”
Still panting, he opened his eyes and whispered hoarsely. “What?”
Brandishing an electric razor and a pair of scissors, his friend replied. “How about a quick shave and even quicker hair cut? We don’t want you to look anything like the pictures that are going to hit the cable news shows in a couple hours. Any number of people may see you walk to your jet. You need to look like a totally different person.”
Exhausted, unable to stop shivering, he nodded faintly. “OK.”
Gabriel smiled. “Here we go. After we get to Kauai, Marion can make your haircut perfect. But I can do a respectable job and no one will recognize you.”
Flat against the seat with his head back, he couldn’t answer. Closing his eyes, he listened to the clip of the scissors and felt the tug on his head. When the razor started, he clenched his jaws, expecting more agony on his bruised face. But Gabriel’s touch was light. Lulled half-asleep by the low-pitched buzzing, he came to when the noise stopped.
Gabriel laid a hand on his arm and spoke quietly. “We’re done with that part, but I need you to help me with one more thing. We need to get you out of this ugly orange shit.”
Opening his eyes, he looked with trepidation at the pile of clothes in Gabriel’s lap. “I don’t think I can.”
His colleague gave him an encouraging smile and waved the scissors. “No problem, we’ll just cut it off. You know, Chad missed his calling. You couldn’t find a better valet. He brought you a nice suit to wear, so you can walk to your jet like a big shot instead of a prisoner. Once we get you onboard, I’ll hook you up with some badass drugs and before you know it, you’ll be in Kauai.”
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