Blood Line (20 page)

“Shut up, Tom,” Valerie said. “The light isn’t going anywhere, and neither are you. Your friend Porter is on the floor next to you, along with Travis and Briggs, but they can’t talk right now. We’ve taped their mouths shut. You shouldn’t be worried about them, anyway. You should be worried about you, Tom.”

“What is this? What’s going on here? Who is that?”

“Tom, you don’t recognize my voice? We were just chatting on the phone with each other; don’t you remember? This is Valerie Granger. And this? Well, this is your…let’s call it your reconditioning party. Now, I know it’s not the party you had in mind, but trust me when I tell you this party will achieve the desired results.”

“What? You? You’re not behind this. Where’s Wakefield? She’s behind this, not some part-time housewife from Bumfuck, Georgia.”

“That’s been your assumption all along, Tom, and it’s been wrong.”

“What? That you’re nothing more than a housewife and cook? Look, lady, you got me, okay. Tell Wakefield she can arrest me. Hand in the cookie jar and all that shit. But don’t tell me you aren’t exactly what I think you are.”

“Denial? Not what I would’ve predicted for the behavioral analytics agent. I thought you guys were trained to unmask the truth by spotting the incongruities of speech and body language.”

“For fuck’s sake, lady, is now the time for a lesson? Yes, that is what we do, and it’s what I did to you, your husband, and kid. Happy now? Just get on with it; whatever this is.”

“So, you admit you aren’t very good at your job?”

“A forty-six–year-old former CIA agent, and his forty-four-year-old wife and sixteen-year-old daughter. No threat detected.”

“And yet here you are, flat on your back in the old Park City jail with your mates at your sides.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“You are in denial. I don’t know about you, but if I was facing the last moments of my life, I would be very interested in how I arrived at this point. But that’s me.”

“I’ll make it easy for you. I’m not talking. Whatever you do to me won’t change that.”

The sound of a man screaming filled the space, reverberating off the stone walls.

“What was that? Who was that?” Tom demanded to know.

The scream turned to a low moan, and then sobs, as Valerie answered.

“That’s Travis. His knee was busted up pretty good by my over-the-hill husband, and that sound…that sound is the sound Travis makes when I stand on his knee.”

“Please stop.
Stop!
I can’t take anymore,” Travis could be heard begging.

“Shut up, Travis. You’ll pass out when you can’t take anymore, and I’ll wake you by pouring more water on you.”

The screams filled the room again, and then they were gone.

“Travis!” Moore screamed. “Travis! Porter! Are you out there, Porter? Where’s Briggs?”

“They’re all here, Tom,” Valerie said calmly. “Here, let me see if I can wake Briggs. He stopped responding to the water we were pouring on him, but if I stick my finger in the hole in his shoulder, that usually merits a response. You know the hole I’m talking about, right?”

“No. What hole?” Moore pleaded.

“The hole caused by my husband’s knife. Here we go,” Valerie said.

The scream sounded like that of a dying animal. It had a low, howling quality to it. Briggs finished with the same sad whimper as Travis.

“Tape his mouth,” Valerie ordered. “Tape them all.”

The hands came out of the light, and the tape was over Moore’s mouth before he could protest.

“I want you to listen, Tom. I am going to tell you what I want from you. I’m going to give you one chance to give me what I want. Does that sound familiar to you? I thought I should give you the same considerations you extended to my daughter and me. So, you know the drill: if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll be forced to continue my little party with your friends, and eventually I’ll start on you. Are we on the same page?”

Tom was frozen beneath the lights. He wasn’t moving, but I could see he was thinking. He was thinking he could talk his way out of this mess he was in.

Valerie continued. “Here’s what I want to know. Tell me the name of your buyer. Give me an accurate description of the bag he seeks to exchange. I want to know how you gained access to encrypted DOD files. That’s it, Tom. Tell me what I want to know and all this will be over for you. Don’t tell me what I want to know, and it’s safe to say we are just getting started. Remove the tape,” Valerie ordered.

The room wasn’t silent for long. Moore was laughing when he said, “Not a chance. I don’t tell you shit until I have a deal. Can you make me a deal, sweetheart? No, I didn’t think so. Get me Wakefield. I know she’s around somewhere. Go get her, and make me a deal. No deal, no answers.”

Valerie came up behind Moore’s head and whispered in his ear. “Thank you, Tom. Thank you for making this easy for me.”

“What the fuck?” Moore screamed, “You crazy bitch! Who in the hell are you, anyway?”

“Tom, I’m Valerie Simon, former agent of the Mossad. And this is how we break people in the Mossad. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about who I was and what I was before we came this far.”

“Mossad? That’s a new one. Whatever, lady. I’m not telling you a goddamned thing.”

“Tom, here’s a story for you. It’s a true story, though most people that have heard this story believe it to be legend only. But it’s not legend or myth; it’s true.”

There was no response from Agent Moore. He was sweating profusely and his breathing was rapid and shallow. He was getting closer to the edge. Valerie continued, and I made ready.

“There was an agent of the CIA. He was a killer. This particular agent always worked alone. He was happy that way, and the CIA liked it when he was happy, Tom. Now, stop me if you’ve heard this before,” Valerie said.

“Of course I’ve heard it before, you stupid cow,” Moore spewed. “Everyone at the CIA has heard this story before. It’s all bullshit.”

“No, I don’t think so. See, Tom, I told you I knew the story was true. I know it’s true because I married the agent.”

“Ha! Did you forget I was in the room when your husband denied being this guy? Look, lady, I can tell when someone is lying, and your husband wasn’t lying. There was no half-breed working for the CIA running around the Middle East. Your husband said it himself; it’s all CIA legend. They teach a class at the Farm on this topic. If this was your best trick, you’re wasting your time.”

“Really, Tom? Are you sure about that? Cause that doesn’t explain this,” Valerie said.

The lights went out momentarily, thrusting the room into darkness. I was standing over Tom when the lights came back on. The lights were shining up into my face. The bruising on my face mimicked Indian war paint perfectly.

“What the hell is that?” Tom screamed.

I dropped to one knee and grasped Tom by the hair, lifting his head off the floor. I held my knife in front of his open eyes and said,

“
Hahohohe.

HAHO HOHE HOKAHEY!!!

HAHO HOHE HOKAHEY KIKSUYAPI LE MAZA!!

KIKSUYAPI MI

MIEYBO OZUYE NAPA LUTE’

MIEYBO OZUYE
…”

The lights went out again. I stepped back into the darkness. The lights came back on, shining in Moore’s face, and Valerie spoke.

“See, Tom? It’s not all bullshit. And here’s a little something else for you. This is just so you know it’s real.”

Tom was screaming and whipping his head from side to side. “What did he say? What does that mean?”

“All in due time, Tom. First, he has a gift for you.”

The room filled with ear-splitting screams. Tom’s head was thrashing back and forth. That is, until a wet oblong object landed on his chest.

“What’s that? What is that? Get it off of me! Is that blood? What’s that smell?”

“That’s the scalp of Agent Travis Smith,” Valerie answered.

“Get it off of me!” Tom was screaming.

But he was quieted by the high-pitched screech that filled the room. It was followed by a low moan, and then whimpering, as a second wet oblong object was dropped on Tom’s chest.

“Oh my god; get it off of me!”

“That’s from Agent Briggs Smith, and the next one…” Valerie was interrupted by more screaming, followed by the sounds of John Porter begging, “Help me, Tom! Help me, Tom!”

Valerie dropped the third wet mass on Tom’s chest.

“That just leaves you, Tom. I must say, it’s a gruesome way to die. But fitting, I suppose. After all, you planned to do horrible things to my daughter and me if I didn’t cooperate with you. Oh, I almost forgot; you asked about what was said earlier. You wanted to know what it means. What my husband said was, ‘
Look at this
.’ He wanted you to see his knife. Then he said ‘
Enemy. Pay attention. Remember my metal. Remember me. I am warrior Red hand. I am death.
’ Kind of cool, huh? Okay, your turn. Time to die, asshole.”

The lights went out, and all that could be heard was Agent Tom Moore sobbing and begging. “Please don’t kill me. I’ll tell you everything. Don’t let that savage scalp me.”

“Oh come on, Tom. You don’t expect me to fall for that trick, do you? If we stop now, you waste our time by lying, and I kill you later anyway.”

Tom responded by screaming, “He’s got my hair! I can feel him pulling on my hair! Please, please stop! I’ll talk! I’ll tell the truth!” He stopped yelling and then said, “Please, no, wait…” more quietly. “I can prove what I’m saying. It’s in the SUV. Look in the SUV for my computer. My laptop. The password is…”

Valerie interrupted him. “Tom, I’m sorry, but we’ve already checked the laptop. There wasn’t anything on it that was helpful. I’m afraid you’re out of options, buddy. Time to die.”

“
No
! Listen to me,” he begged. “The plug in the cigarette lighter in the SUV is a USB drive. The data is on the USB drive, but you have to have the password for the computer. The drive has to be inserted into the USB port before you enter the password. The password unlocks the computer and the drive at the same time.”

“Okay, Tommy boy; let’s have it. What’s the password?”

“Look, I think I should get some consideration first,” Moore said, stalling for time.

“One more chance, Tom. I’ve given you all the consideration you’re going to get tonight. Tell me the password.”

“No, it’s the only bargaining chip I have.”

“Okay, but what happens if I figure out the password, Tom? You’ll be left with nothing, and completely at my mercy.”

“No way you guess my password. All I want is assurance I won’t be placed in Federal prison. I want to serve my time in one of those white-collar country club prisons. That’s all I want.”

“No deal, Tom. No, wait, on second thought, I’ll make a deal with you. Here it is: when I figure out the password, my husband will scalp you. That’s the deal you get.”

“Okay, but you should know ten wrong entries wipes the USB drive clean.”

“You really are stupid, Tom. I would never risk everything if I didn’t already know your password. You gave Julia a pendant. You have the tattoo on your right bicep. It looks like a pretzel, but it’s not. It’s the command key on your computer. It’s the Meta key. It’s your secret key, Tom. Isn’t that right, Tom? ‘Secret key’ is your password.”

Tom Moore gave up as soon as he heard those words. I saw him lying there under the lights. I saw him give up any hope he had left. I saw it leave his body as he exhaled. He was beaten. But Valerie wasn’t finished with him yet. Not by a long shot.

“New deal, Tom. You’ll verify what we find on your computer. You make one mistake, then it’s off with your scalp. Do you understand?”

“Deal,” Tom whispered.

I looked at my watch. It was 12:45 a.m. Valerie had broken the man in less than twenty minutes. I was impressed. I saw Zach heading for the stairs, and followed him out of the old jail. The first face I saw once I was outside was Leecy’s. She ran to me and threw her arms around me.

“Well, how’d it go?”

“Just like Mom thought it would,” I answered. “There’s some work left to do, though.”I saw Lester coming our way and said, “Give me a minute, okay sweetie?”

“Is it over?” Lester asked.

“Almost,” I answered, shaking his hand. “How are the prisoners?”

Lester looked over his shoulder at the paramedic van and said, “Larry and Murphy have the one with the shoulder injury stabilized. The knife didn’t hit anything major. They want to take him to the hospital for stitches, though. The other guy, the one with the hurt knee, also lost a couple of teeth. I’ve been told they will both be ready for transport within the hour. The black guy is in bad shape. He has a broken orbital socket and shattered jaw. He’ll be with us at the county hospital till he’s healthy enough to be transported. We’ll keep him locked down and guarded. Can you tell Wakefield for me? Tell her we’ll keep the one called John Porter unless she wants to send prisoner medical transport for him.”

Lester paused as he reached for his ringing phone. “Excuse me, but Elizabeth has been calling me non-stop since I left the house. I’ve got to get back home.”

“Sure,” I said, smiling, thinking about the new baby on the way. “I’ll brief Wakefield. We have it under control. Thanks for all the help on this, Lester. If you would, as you walk by, tell Larry and Murphy we’ll pick up the two men and ready them for transport in about an hour.”

“Will do,” Lester said.

I watched Lester walk across the lawn of City Hall and drive away until his taillights were lost to the darkness. I turned to find my daughter waiting for me. I could see she had a question; it was written all over her face.

“What?” I asked.

“What about Julia?”

“What about her?”

“Is she going to be in trouble?”

“I don’t know, and it’s really not up to me. But more importantly, why didn’t you go home with your grandparents?”

“Don’t change the subject, Dad. I don’t want Julia to be in trouble. Mom said she felt like Julia had been coerced. She said she’d seen the look Julia had on her face before. She thought Julia had been tortured.”

“Easy, kiddo. Okay, here’s what I do know. I know we couldn’t have pulled this thing off without Julia’s help. It was her program and her equipment that helped us fool Moore into cooperating. So I think there’ll be some consideration made by Wakefield. But first, we have to verify the information on Moore’s laptop. After we do that, whatever happens to Julia is up to Wakefield. Good enough?”