"You want anything to eat yet?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
"Come on, Sarah. You better eat something. You're . . . you're going to need your strength."
Sarah refused to acknowledge him.
"Look, Sarah, we've had new orders come through. Vlad and Yuri--they've been given the go-ahead to be more, um, aggressive. This is your last chance. You have to tell us what we want to know. Where is your father? How do we get a message to him?"
Her silence finally got to him. Eli grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up. She shrieked and he shouted, "Goddamn it, Sarah! Talk to me! I can't be responsible for what they're going to do!"
The tears welled in her eyes, so she closed them. That way she wouldn't have to look at him.
He let go of her and she burrowed herself into the blankets and pillow, sobbing.
"Sarah," he said, a little softer. "Vlad and Yuri . . . they're going to come in here and make you talk. I promise you, they will make you. So please. Tell us what we want to know."
She mumbled something.
"What?" he asked.
She lifted her head and said evenly, "Go to hell."
Eli sighed, moved toward the door, and said, "I'm sorry, Sarah." And then he left.
Now Sarah was really frightened. What were those two men going to do to her? Please God, don't let it be rape. Anything but that.
She felt movement in the room and heard the door slam shut. Sarah looked up and saw them--Vlad and Yuri--standing near the cot. Vlad had a coil of rope. Yuri carried a tool kit.
"Hello, Princess," Vlad said. "Are you ready to have some fun with us?"
Adrenaline pumped through Sarah's body as she leaped from the cot and ran toward the bathroom. Vlad caught her around the waist and swung her back to the cot. She fell on it hard, collapsing it.
Vlad uncoiled the rope.
CARLYSt. John finally had a good night's sleep after spending two days straight on hacking Tarighian's and Zdrok's bank accounts. Now she had a new assignment and it was just as urgent. Lambert had given her digital files of phone conversations that Sam Fisher had recorded in Turkey, and he wanted a splice job. This meant she had to take pieces of the conversation, cut them up, and put them back together so the speakers were saying something very different from the original.
The subjects were Nasir Tarighian, aka Namik Basaran, and an unknown subordinate. They spoke in Farsi, not Turkish. After Third Echelon's crack interpreter translated the dialogue into English, Carly heard the original conversation like this--
MAN: "But surely the Shop can see that it wasn't us?"
TARIGHIAN: "No, the Shop can't see, Zdrok is blind to everything but his own little world."
MAN: "Let me get this straight. The diaper factory was attacked by someone--"
TARIGHIAN: "An Arab."
MAN: "--and he blew up the building."
TARIGHIAN: "And left Tirma material all over the place."
MAN: "So obviously someone wants to create a rift between you and the Shop."
TARIGHIAN: "The rift was already there. They just made it wider."
MAN: "So I suggest you tell him that you're convinced it was an outside job. Someone is setting you up."
TARIGHIAN: "I told him that, but he didn't listen. Now he doesn't take my calls. Damn it, doesn't he know who I am?"
MAN: "Has Hani found out what happened to the money transfer?"
TARIGHIAN: " No. We sent the money. According to Hani's records the transfer made it safely into Zdrok's Swiss bank account. However, Zdrok claims he never got it."
MAN: "You did give the order for the transfer, didn't you?"
TARIGHIAN: "Of course!"
MAN: "Then why would he lie?"
TARIGHIAN: "He's angry that the first shipment of arms was confiscated in Iraq. The Iraqi police arrested the men red-handed. Ahmed and his men tried to mount an operation to retrieve it, but that failed. We had to bite the bullet and pay for a completely new shipment. So far Zdrok says he hasn't been paid."
MAN: "He delivered it without us paying up front, right?"
TARIGHIAN: "Yes. His one Good Samaritan act. Now he wants his damned money yesterday."
MAN: "So he probably thinks you're trying to put him out of business."
TARIGHIAN: "Yes, that's probably what he thinks."
MAN: "Surely the Azeri police will catch someone for the crime."
TARIGHIAN: "Not likely, you fool. The media's already blaming the Shadows for it. Ali put out a statement denying responsibility but you know how far that goes."
MAN: "So what now?"
TARIGHIAN: "The man better apologize for his behavior and exonerate us of this crime. And he should not charge us for the new shipment. The man's a billionaire, he can write it off."
Carly heard the sound of a knock.
TARIGHIAN: "Come in."
ANOTHER MAN: "You're wanted in the control room."
TARIGHIAN: "I'll be right there."
And that was the end of it. A second file contained the following short exchange between Tarighian and the same man.
TARIGHIAN: "The Filipinos behave as if they're in the West. They are a godless bunch."
MAN: "The Shadows' influence on them will change things."
TARIGHIAN: "The authorities can't deny that Islam is growing in the Far East. Our cells in the Philippines and Indonesia will soon make strikes but not until--" (garbled).
MAN: (garbled) "--and the United States will then relent."
TARIGHIAN: "All they care about is money. I've hit them where it hurts and I'll continue to do so. Come on, let's worry about the Far East after the Phoenix project is completed."
And that file was over.
Her intercom beeped. She pressed the Talk button and said, "Yeah?"
"What do you think?" It was Lambert.
"It doesn't seem too difficult," she answered. "I've got plenty to work with."
"It has to sound convincing. I can tell Sam we need more material if you can't put something together that will--"
"Don't worry, Chief, I can do it. Is that pizza here yet?"
Lambert laughed. "For such a small person you sure eat a lot."
"My brain cells need feeding--they soak up all the nutrition."
"The delivery should be here in another five minutes or so."
"Let me know, I'm starving."
Carly released the intercom and went back to her computer. Sometimes the work was like this and she never went home. Here she was with a bedroll in her office. There were periods of time when she felt as if she were back in the dormitory at Harvard. She could remember all-nighters when she'd catch a nap for an hour or two and then hit the books again. During finals she never left her room.
Her mother always complained that she wasn't married and didn't date. If her mother only knew that Carly was busy saving the country and didn't have the time or the will to see anyone, perhaps the woman would leave her alone. Of course, knowing her mom, she'd probably say that "settling down and raising a family" was more important. No, thanks. Carly was content to live a celibate lifestyle and drown herself in work. If human desire ever raised its ugly head, she wasn't beyond picking up some hunk for a one-night stand. Commitment, for her, was a four-letter word.
When the pizza arrived, she took a plate-full of slices back to her office. She never sat with the other employees in the break room. She was aware of her reputation as aloof, but she didn't care. Lambert knew better, and that's all that counted.