“You have the pills? No pills, no point. No pills, no date,” he said.
Natalie held up a small prescription pill bottle and shook the little purple pills within as she batted her eyes.
“Right here, darling,” she said. She choked back a gag, thankful for the veil covering her face.
The door shut, and the chain clattered free. Suleiman opened the door and waved her in. He wore a frightfully small, black Speedo, anathema to all American men but fitness models, and nothing else. He had the body composition akin to the Pillsbury dough boy and a serious case of psoriasis down his legs.
Suleiman slapped her on the rear as she walked past. The touch startled her as if he’d hit her with a cattle prod, not sausage fingers.
“Nice, just like I ask,” Suleiman said.
Natalie resisted the urge to punch him in the throat. She held up a finger.
“Let me call in,” she said.
Suleiman snatched the pill bottle from her and popped the lid open. He put three pills in his mouth and started chewing. Natalie felt her heart sink to her knees; her whole plan had just gone out the window.
“Get started sooner.” He sat on the bed and waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Call in. Get ready,” she said and went into the bathroom.
She locked the door behind her and tore off her veil and headpiece, cursing under her breath. She reached for the faucet and saw a small mirror with lines of white powder on it. She turned on the faucet and used the sound of pouring water to mask what she was about to do.
An earpiece went in, and she turned on a cell phone inside a small purse. She shook the cell phone, as it took its sweet time finding a connection.
“Natalie? Status,” Shannon said in her ear.
“We’ve got a problem. He took three doses of the neurotoxin before I could stop him,” Natalie said quietly.
“Given his weight, the injection you have might still be enough,” she said.
“He chewed the pills. Have one of the eggheads tell me how long it’ll take for it to take effect on someone in the three-hundred-fifty-pound range.” She looked at the small mirror; the faint remains of two lines were in sequence with the rest of whatever drug Suleiman had laid out. “And he’s high on something else, some other stimulant,” Natalie said.
“Hurry! It’s working!” Suleiman yelled to her.
“That might counteract the poison. Get what we need,” Shannon said.
“‘Get what we need,’ she says. ‘This mission will be easy,’ she says.”
“I can still hear you,” Shannon said.
Natalie winced and attached a needle to a syringe. She pushed an air bubble out and tapped it. This isn’t going to work, she thought. The pills were supposed to dole out the poison slowly and keep Suleiman weak while Natalie questioned him. His lust had accelerated the situation beyond what they’d planned and what they could control.
Natalie readied two more syringes and kept one in her hand as she opened the door.
Suleiman stood at the end of the bed, swaying from side to side.
“Hey, you should be… naked.” His words were slurred, and he tottered on his feet. Natalie didn’t stop him as he fell, the fat of his ample belly billowed from his sides.
She heaved him onto his back and knelt over him.
“Hey.” She snapped her fingers over his face. “Can you hear me?”
Suleiman’s eyes swam for a second before they focused on Natalie.
“You’ve been poisoned with snake venom, courtesy of the black mamba snake, native to Africa. Enjoy the paralysis — it’s a known side effect.” She held up the syringe. “This will keep your internal organs from shutting down and allow us to have a quick conversation. Nod your head if you understand.”
Suleiman just looked at her, his eyes wide.
“That stuff works fast, doesn’t it? Blink your eyes twice if you understand.”
Suleiman blinked twice.
This guy’s going to die on me. He’s going to die, and then how the hell are we going to find the nuke? she thought.
Natalie looked over Suleiman’s puffy limbs for an easy vein to access for the injection.
“No time to do this right,” she said and stuck the syringe into the side of Suleiman’s neck. Suleiman hacked as the adrenaline went into his system. His hands and feet spasmed, and his breathing became deep and regular. Natalie tossed the syringe onto a TV stand. It bounced against a roll of Lebanese pounds.
Natalie grabbed Suleiman’s fat face in her hand and twisted his head to look at her.
“Black mamba venom liquefies the internal organs, and the entire process is rather painful according to survivors. You are going to die, right here right now, if you don’t answer my questions. Understand?” she said. Please talk to me, she thought.
“Yes, yes. Give me cure now,” Suleiman said between labored breaths.
“Where is the nuke?” Natalie said. Her fingers dug into Suleiman’s fleshy cheeks.
“Nuke? No nuke. No nuke.”
An ammonia scent wafted over them. Natalie looked down and saw a dark patch growing from Suleiman’s groin.
“You just lost bladder control. The poison starts eating away at your very favorite bits, and if you don’t want your shriveled little cock to fall off, you better give me the location of the nuke in the next thirty seconds,” Natalie said.
“Actually that’s not true. It should—” Tony said through her eat piece.
“Shut up, Tony,” Shannon said.
“Socotra! They have it in Socotra,” Suleiman whimpered and tried to bring his head up to look at his crotch.
“Don’t move.” Natalie got up and went back to the bathroom. In the kit was an antidote for the poison and another shot of adrenaline.
“Where the hell is Socotra?” she whispered.
“An island off the coast of Somalia, a damn big island. Get more,” Shannon said.
Natalie picked up both syringes and went back to Suleiman’s side. She stuck an adrenaline needle into his thigh and injected him.
“Don’t give him any more adrenaline. His heart might stop,” Tony said.
Natalie breath caught as she looked at the empty syringe. Had she just killed Suleiman?
“Too late for that,” she said softly.
“What?” Suleiman squealed. A new more pungent smell joined them.
“Too late for you to keep control of your asshole. Tell me where it is on the island, and I’ll give you the antidote,” she said.
“Abdullah’s village. I sent mujahideen to get it. They have to take the road… S3.” Suleiman’s face contorted in pain, and he broke into strained Arabic.
Natalie held up the antidote.
“English, Suleiman. You’re almost there,” she said.
“S3… to an orchard, then a few hundred meters to the south. The damn Somalis have it there, waiting for the mujahideen.” He started wheezing as his face went from blue to purple.
“When is the pickup?” Shannon said.
“When will they get there? Where are they taking it next?” Natalie asked.
“Two days. Morning.” Suleiman’s eyes lost focus, and his head lolled to the side. She pressed two fingers to the side of his neck, but there was no pulse.
“No, no, not yet,” Natalie said. She put two fingers next to Suleiman’s sternum and slid the last needle into Suleiman’s chest. It went in slowly, then sped up as it pierced something delicate. She depressed the plunger, then yanked the needle out.
“Don’t die, you fucking pig,” Natalie said, her voice reedy. She straightened her arms and started chest compressions. Suleiman wobbled with each pump.
“Natalie, it’s useless,” Shannon said.
Natalie put her hand under Suleiman’s neck and lifted his head to open his airway. She opened his mouth and hesitated before breathing air into his mouth.