After a moment, he took his hands away. If he’s alive, I think he’s somewhere near Lake Tuz.
How do you know this?
I just do.
How?
I saw him there.
How?
He felt anger well up inside him. It doesn’t matter!
She recoiled as though he had hit her. He held up his hands palms out in apology, then signed, I’m sorry.
She shook her head. Why won’t you tell me?
He flexed his fingers, searching for words. I don’t… want you to know.
Because I won’t like it?
He looked down. Because you won’t like me.
She touched his knee. When he looked up, she signed, I do like you.
You wouldn’t if you knew.
Knew what?
He hesitated, then signed, You and Dash are good.
She gave him a faint smile. Well, Dash is, anyway.
No. You are, too. I see how you are with him. You’re good.
I guess with Dash I am, yes.
I’m not good.
Because you’ve done bad things?
He nodded.
Did you do something bad to Hamilton?
He nodded again, unable to look at her.
She rested a hand on his knee. After a moment, he raised his eyes. She was looking at him with a gentleness and understanding he knew he didn’t deserve, and never expected to have. It hurt like a stab wound. But… he so wanted to believe what he saw in her eyes could be true.
Whatever you did, she signed, he’s still alive.
I think he is. I didn’t do anything to him. But he was in bad shape. Some people hurt him.
What people?
It doesn’t matter. They’re gone. They can’t hurt anyone anymore. And I don’t know anything else. Not really. The men who hurt him are dead. He could have taken money from them, and the keys to their van.
Where would he go?
Manus imagined Hamilton, scared, hurt, disoriented. He gets out of that dress they’d put him in, and changes into the work clothes in the back of the van. He goes out and finds the bodies. He’s terrified, horrified. But his survival instincts are strong, and he subdues his urge to vomit at the sight of all that gore. He forces himself to go through the dead men’s pockets. He finds money, he finds the van keys. He drives off. He sees some tourists at one of the concession stands by the lake. He asks directions. He buys a map. And then…
He’s a city guy, I could tell. He wouldn’t know how to survive outdoors. Or how to get across a border. He might look for a youth hostel. But… the way he was hurt, he wouldn’t want to share a room or bathroom. Or have to talk to a bunch of backpackers. Plus his face has been on television. Not so likely that he would be recognized, but the more people who see him, the more the risk. So I think… a hotel like this one. The kind that doesn’t require credit cards. A place where he could bring in some food and pull the drapes and cry and hide and heal.
Where?
There’s not much around Lake Tuz, so my guess is he would head to Ankara. Closer than anything else and he’d have the most options there.
Her eyes were excited, her expression intense. What day and time did you see him? Be precise.
The day before I built Dash his loft. Noon, local time.
He could see her calculating the elapsed time. All right, she signed, it’s morning there now. He would have been holed up for… four nights. Wherever he went, do you think he could still be there?
He was traumatized. If he found a safe place, I think he’d be afraid to move. Until his money was close to running out. What are you thinking?
She pressed her fingertips against her forehead in concentration. What I was saying before we took this room — about the way NSA could comb through hotel reservation systems? I can do that. Hamilton isn’t as tactical as you, and he doesn’t know as much as I do about NSA capabilities. Plus he wouldn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. He wouldn’t ask anyone to not register him in a computer system.
He nodded, impressed. That makes sense.
If I could access something called XKeyscore, there’s a chance I could locate him. The kind of hotel you’re describing… it couldn’t be more than, what, a dozen, two dozen? I just need the one that checked in someone with an American name for cash within, say, six hours after you last saw him. But they probably revoked my account privileges.
Why?
Are you joking? I’m supposed to be dead by now, remember? Abducted and raped.
The comment stung, but Manus tried to ignore it in favor of what was relevant. He reminded himself she was just an analyst. That she wasn’t used to thinking operationally.
But that’s the point, he signed. If your death was supposed to look like a random thing, they wouldn’t want to do anything out of the ordinary at work like directing some sysadmin to revoke your privileges.
She looked at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That’s true. She paused as though considering, then added, All right, I need a laptop.
They’ll trace the access back to the hotel.
Not if I use Tor.
But your search parameters will be logged. If they’re monitoring your work searches and you find Hamilton, you’ll lead them straight to him.
I’ll warn him. Anyway, I’m going to have to take that chance. If he’ll just tell me the passphrase, I can decrypt the drive and expose what’s on it. There won’t be anything for the director to cover up anymore.
Hamilton won’t trust you.
She smacked her palms down on the edge of the tub. Well, do you have any better ideas?
As it happened, he did. Give the drive to the director. Promise to never say anything.
No! I know you think you know him, and can trust him. But you don’t and you can’t. He’s not a good person, Marvin. He’s sick and power-mad and terrified of being found out. He would never, ever trust me to keep my mouth shut. He’d say he would, and then he’d have me removed the first chance he could.
Manus felt something cold come over him. I’d tell him if that happened, I would kill him.
For a moment, she looked frightened. Then her expression softened and she touched his knee. Then he would kill you, too. You must know that.
Manus didn’t answer. He could feel his mind trying to believe what it wanted, trying to push away logic and evidence. He felt so alone. It was like that first night in the juvenile facility. Everything he thought he knew and could count on, ripped away. No one he could rely on. Everyone an enemy, everyone trying to hurt him.
I need to get on the Internet, she signed.