Stepping onto the dirt floor, he held the lantern higher, then proceeded to walk toward the back wall. The light finally cast its eerie glow on Jack Henley.
His clothes were soiled and rumpled, a far cry from his usually spotless appearance. There was dried blood below his nose and mouth. A rope around his waist had him lashed securely to a wooden chair. His arms were tied behind his back.
He looked up at Labeaux, squinting from the light, trying to see a face. “Where’s my wife?”
Labeaux ignored the question as he walked behind the chair. Henley tried to turn but Labeaux slapped the side of his head. “Do you know why you’re here, Commander Henley?”
“Here?!” Henley shouted. “Where the hell is here?!” Another slap to his head, only this time with more force.
He had to be sure Victoria was okay. She had to be somewhere in this place. When they were taken by force during the night, with hoods pulled over their heads, she was with him in the backseat. Although she didn’t make a sound, he knew she was there.
When he joined the Navy, Henley memorized the Code of Conduct. He still knew it, backwards and forwards. He’d been to SERE training (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape). His panic made him look like a fool in front of Grant. But now, after all his years of service, he realized this would be his true test of all that training.
“Look,” he said, “just tell me if she’s okay.”
“For now… she is,” Labeaux replied.
Henley breathed an inward sigh, while hoping he wasn’t being lied to. “What the hell do you want?”
Labeaux walked in front of him, putting the lantern by his feet. “I want you to tell me who knows about the documents I have. Do they know how I obtained them?”
Henley stayed expressionless and quiet, silently repeating, over and over, to keep his fuckin’ mouth shut.
Labeaux grabbed a handful of Henley’s hair, jerking his head back. “I’m very experienced at this kind of interrogation, Commander. I usually get the answers I’m looking for.”
“I want to see my wife!” Henley demanded, trying to shake loose of Labeaux’s grasp.
He barely got the words out when a hard punch just below his sternum rocked him in the chair, taking his breath away. Hunched over, he gasped for air, coughing. Keeping his head down, he eyed Labeaux’s shiny shoes, and intentionally spit on them.
The next punch to his jaw sent him ass over end. His head hit hard on the dirt floor, knocking him unconscious.
Labeaux rubbed his knuckles, then picked up the lantern. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he held the lantern high overhead, pausing to look back at an unconscious Henley. He turned and went up the steps to the kitchen.
Webb was sitting on the counter, but the moment he saw Labeaux, he slid off and went to the other side of the kitchen. Labeaux’s expression was enough warning.
Labeaux angrily pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Putting his foot on a chair, he swiped the cloth across his black shoe until the shine returned. Throwing the handkerchief into the sink, he washed his hands, then dried off with a towel, tossing it on the counter. Ignoring Webb, he went into the dining room.
Abu Massi stood by the window looking across the front of the property, when he heard footsteps. Turning, he saw Labeaux walking to the table. He waited until Labeaux was seated, before going to his own chair. With his hands resting on top of the backrest, his dark eyes studied Labeaux. “Who is the person you’re holding in the basement?”
Labeaux leaned back. Returning the Libyan’s stare, he answered, “He’s an American stationed at St. Mawgan, the husband of the woman who obtained the information.”
Surprise and concern suddenly appeared on Massi’s face. “Was it wise to bring him here? I seem to remember you were going to dispose of those who… ”
“That’s true, I was. But he’s the best means I have to verify final security information. He’s in charge of the American Explosive Ordnance Disposal team. He has knowledge of flights and weapons.”
Massi finally sat down. “And have you obtained the information?”
Labeaux shook his head. “Not yet. There’s still time.”
“With what’s at stake?! How can you say there’s still time? I would have thought all the information was verified before this!” Massi reacted with agitation.
Labeaux remained calm. “We can’t take any chances.”
“And where’s the woman?”
“I’ve kept the two separated. She’s locked in one of the bedrooms.”
The Libyan rocked his chair back and forth, trying to decide whether he should question further. For the moment, the prisoners weren’t his concern. The weapon was. “Tell me about Monday, Labeaux.”
Labeaux breathed an inward sigh, relieved Massi didn’t press further. “Do you know anything about the B57?” Massi shook his head. “The bomb is due to arrive tomorrow from the United States. It’s a five hundred pound, five kiloton depth bomb. The weapon can be delivered by jet aircraft or helicopter.”
“Helicopter?” Massi asked with some surprise.
“Yes. Helicopter.” Labeaux shifted his eyes to Aknin. “If my research is correct, you are an experienced pilot, and you have been trained to fly helicopters.”
Aknin glanced at Massi, leaving it up to him to respond. “Razzag does have the ability to fly helicopters.” Massi’s worried expression was more than obvious. “I do not understand how you intend to make this happen. There are only three of us, four counting your man out there,” he said, pointing toward the kitchen. “We do not have a helicopter, and that base must be heavily guarded. Please! Explain to me, Labeaux. How can this plan of yours possibly work?”
Labeaux pushed his chair back, having known these questions would eventually arise. Could he get away with his deception? “I’ve hired extra men, using part of the money you’ve paid me. They are very experienced in using diversionary tactics, and very experienced with explosives. I assume the aircraft you flew here has enough fuel to get us to St. Mawgan.”
Massi looked at Aknin, who simply nodded. Then Massi continued questioning. “You said the weapon weighs five hundred pounds. How can…?”
“That’s been arranged.” Labeaux lied again.
Massi pushed his chair away from the table. Aknin stood abruptly. “All right, Labeaux. I have trusted you in our other ventures. Now, I want you to give me any diagrams you have of the base. Razzag and I wish to examine them.”
Labeaux opened a folder and removed one page, sliding it across the table. Then he stood. “While you study that, I have something to attend to.” Without waiting for any response, he turned and went to the kitchen, closing the door.
Backing up against the counter, he took several deep breaths. He never thought Massi would question him as intensely as he had. The other times the Libyans had hired him, he was allowed to plan the attacks himself, without any interference. They trusted him. Of course, this time there was so much more at stake for the Libyans.
Massi kept his eyes on Labeaux until the kitchen door closed. Regardless of Labeaux’s clever answers, Massi remained suspicious, and now… angry.
He looked across the table at Aknin and said quietly, “Razzag, I’m no longer certain things will go our way. I have no choice but to wait until Monday before I determine whether this plan has any chance of succeeding.” Massi drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through tight lips. “I want you to be prepared to use your skills if I give the order.”
Aknin rested a hand on his janbia as he nodded in understanding, but asked, “You mean everyone, sir, correct?”
Seeing the kitchen door opening, Massi nodded, then let his eyes fall again on the paper.