They drove in those terrifying conditions for the next few minutes. They passed by small towns that looked quiet and sleepy under the thick blanket of snow. Becca turned into a side road wide enough for just one vehicle. It had been plowed recently and the tires crunched on the fresh snow. The thick forest appeared on both sides of the road, and the snow eventually died down. The haze grew thinner and at some point, when they came to a fork in the road, Becca pointed straight ahead and told them the road led to the town of Rudininkai. She made a left turn so they would go around the town and they got onto a narrower path. The Volkswagen plowed through two feet of snow and Becca tried to follow the ruts carved in the path. A couple of times the SUV veered off the ruts and side-swiped the scraggly branches of overgrown shrubs, but Becca was able to turn the SUV back onto the path.
“We’re getting close,” Becca said as they got back onto the wider, plowed road. “A few more miles and we’ll be there.”
“What do we know about this detainee?” Justin asked.
“His name is Zamir Idrisov and we have a file on him. Unfortunately, I don’t have it with me.”
Justin frowned. He did not like going blind into an interrogation. The more information he had about the detainee and his background, the more angles Justin could explore to gain an advantage, gain the confidence of the detainee, and make him give up his secrets. “What do you remember from the file?”
Becca gave him an annoyed look through the rearview mirror, but she did answer his question. “Idrisov is a mid-level officer of the Movement, reporting to one of the deputies of this terrorist group. He’s involved more in the financing aspects of the operations, channeling money from various sources, businesses, charities. We’ve followed their transactions from Swiss and Luxembourg banks.”
“He’s an economist?” Carrie asked.
“Was. Got a graduate degree from Oxford.”
“What family does he have?”
“Two younger brothers in Chechnya and one younger sister in Germany. An older brother was killed three years ago by Spetsnaz just outside Moscow. They reported he was planning a bombing in an elementary school.”
Justin nodded. He had gotten the basic information for the framework of his interrogation.
They drove for about fifteen minutes and Becca turned into a side road that had not been cleared of snow. There was a set of tire tracks that seemed fresh. There were no signs to identify where they were headed. The cedars and the pines were getting thicker, the forest closing around them. The road curved a couple of times, then straightened up as they came to a clearing. The brown roof and walls of a decrepit structure came into their view about half a mile away.
“This is your center?” Carrie asked in an incredulous voice.
Becca grinned. “It looks like we took the wrong turn, doesn’t it? That’s the impression we’re going for.”
Justin nodded.
Becca continued, “Once in a while someone stumbles upon our facility. We have detectors at the highway turn and hidden cameras, so we dispatch a welcome team here at the clearing to turn them back. We’ve learned from our mistakes with the other center.”
She was referring to a previous black site north of Vilnius, and Justin knew about it. That complex had been built quite openly by English-speaking construction workers, who renovated a former stable. They built it without windows and surrounded it with metal fences equipped with electronic gadgets, a far cry from the nearby village barns, stables, and houses. It was obvious to everyone that the structure filled any other purpose but the farming needs of the rural community. At first, villagers thought it was the work of the local Mafia, but soon enough they discovered the true owners of the building.
Becca drove around the crumbling structure and they saw a smaller, grayer cinderblock structure. It was built in an L-shape and had a few small windows. Two white GMC Envoys were parked in front of what Justin assumed was the main entrance with a large gray, metallic door.
A tall man stepped outside. He was dressed in a black parka and brown ski pants.
“This is Andrew, one of our agents,” said Becca as she parked near the door.
They all got out of the car and Becca made introductions.
“Welcome to Lithuania and to our station,” Andrew said after they had shaken hands. “Are we going straight to the detainee?” he asked Becca.
“Yes. Has he said anything?”
Andrew opened the door and let everyone in, then closed it behind him. “Zach has been working on him for the last four hours, but we don’t have a lot of intel.”
They walked down a narrow, well-lit hall. It was warm inside. The walls were painted a calm, light blue, in striking contrast with the depressing gray of the building’s exterior. The floor was covered with beige linoleum designed to imitate expensive tiles. Most of it was stained by slush and mud.
They passed by offices with glass doors slightly open, then turned a corner.
“This is the holding block,” Andrew explained, pointing to a set of black metallic doors.
“How many detainees do you have?” Justin asked.
Andrew looked at Becca. She nodded and Andrew said, “Two. One’s in there, but he’s sedated.” He gestured toward the first door. “The other one is with Zach.”
They took a few more steps and came to another black door. Andrew knocked twice. They waited for a few moments, then someone inside turned a heavy deadbolt. A large black man pulled open the door, then stepped to the side.
“Hey, hey, Becca, Andrew, and guests,” the man said in a joyous tone.
“Hello, Zach,” Becca said. “This is Justin and Carrie.”
“My pleasure,” Zach said. “Sorry, I can’t shake your hands.”
Justin’s eyes fell on the man’s big arms. They were blood-spattered, as was his black T-shirt.
“Any progress?” Becca asked as they entered the room.
Zach shook his head. “He still thinks he’s tough. Give me a couple of days.”
We don’t have a couple of days, Justin thought.
He looked around the large room. A section was separated from the rest by glass block partition walls, which were mostly covered by a black curtain. A couple of desks and a few chairs were set across from the entrance to the glass chamber. Two large wooden barrels stood to the left side of the room. A long counter was set against the right wall and was covered with all sorts of wires, cables, knives, plastic wrappers, and other torture devices.
Zach picked up a towel from one of the desk and wiped his hands and the side of his neck. “How are we going to do this?” he asked.
Becca said, “What exactly has he told you?”
Zach picked up a notebook from the desk. “Idrisov claims he has no knowledge about any planned attacks in the US. As far as the assassination of the Russian minister, he gave me the names of four people involved. We already knew those names, since Russian authorities shot all of them within a few days after the assassination.”
Becca nodded. “Any new intel?”
“He gave me some Swiss bank account numbers and the name of one of their couriers in Moscow. We’re still checking the accounts and the name.” Zach put down the notepad. “I haven’t really gone hard on him. Once we get started, we should have more.”
Becca looked at Justin. “Do you want to have the first crack?”
Justin shook his head. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
Zach cocked his head toward Justin. “Why? You afraid you’ll get your hands dirty?”
Justin stared at Zach for a couple of moments. “My methods are different than yours and those of your agency.”