Patriot M.A. Rothman (free ebook reader for iphone .TXT) 📖

on the outskirts of DC. Afternoon sunlight filtered through frosted windows near the high ceiling. He stopped the car just inside, and the garage door closed behind him.

“Get out,” Annie said to Wagner, sliding out of the back seat, keeping her pistol trained on him.

“What is this?” Wagner asked, not moving.

Connor opened his door and stepped back. “We’re here to ask you some questions. Now get out of the car, asshole.”

Wagner stepped out, quite calmly. Connor could tell this wasn’t the first time he’d had a gun pointed at his head.

Annie walked him to an enclosed office in the corner of the warehouse. Its windows had been covered with newspaper, and all the furniture had been removed except for a single chair bolted to the center of the floor.

“I want my phone call,” Wagner said. “I know my rights. I get a lawyer too.”

Annie laughed. “You don’t get any of that here, buddy. Now strip.”

Wagner gave her a bewildered look.

Annie motioned at his jacket. “You heard me. Strip.”

“You can’t do this,” Wagner said. “Your country has laws and—”

Annie lunged forward and rammed her elbow into Wagner’s nose. Connor grimaced at the sound of cartilage crunching. Wagner screamed in pain, covered his nose with both hands, and stumbled backward. Blood spilled through his fingers. Panicked eyes shot to Connor, pleading for him to do something.

Annie rubbed the back of her elbow and stepped back. “Not off to a good start, Fred. Chris, John, you guys want to give me a hand in here?”

Two men dressed in blue coveralls entered the room. They looked like ex-military: close-cropped hair, broad shoulders, built like NFL linemen. They stripped Wagner to his boxers, casually batting away his attempts to stop them, and strapped him to the chair with plastic zip ties—his wrists bound to the armrests, feet to the chair legs. When they’d finished, they nodded at Annie and Connor, then left without a word, closing the office door behind them.

Blood continued to flow from Wagner’s nose. It trickled over his lips and chin, and dripped onto his chest. After a half-hearted attempt at pulling free, he resigned himself to glaring at his two captors. “What is this? I don’t know anything.”

Annie clapped her hands together and smiled at Connor. “I absolutely love when people start with that, don’t you?”

“Love it,” Connor said, crossing his arms. He’d been in many “back-and-forth” interrogations; they were designed to throw the interviewee off balance and keep him there, never knowing where the next question was coming from. Many times the interrogation would last days, the person subjected to hours of physical and mental stress, before some small tidbit of actionable intelligence was acquired.

“You can’t hold me like this! I already told you I wanted a lawyer!”

Anne shook her head. “You just don’t get it, do you? There aren’t any lawyers here. You don’t get a phone call. No one’s going to help you. So you’re going to have to help yourself.”

“How do I do that?”

“First off,” Annie said, “you can tell us who you’re working for. That’d be a start.”

“I’m not working for anyone. You don’t have anything on me.”

Annie made a tsk-tsk sound. “You’re not getting off to a good start, Frederick.” She stepped forward and backhanded him across the face.

Wagner cried out in pain. “You can’t do this! I have rights! This is America!”

“You don’t have any rights here, asshole,” Connor said. He pointed to the door. “See that? America’s back there. In here… you’re nowhere. In here, you belong to us.”

“Look,” Annie said, “we can make this as painful or as painless as you want. It all depends on how cooperative you are. The more you cooperate, the less painful it’ll be. Your choice.”

Wagner blew a wad of partially clotted blood from his nose. “Who are you? CIA? FBI?”

Connor turned to Annie. “Hey, do you have a change of clothes for me? And a shower? I don’t want to look like I’ve been swimming in someone’s blood when this is over.”

Annie nodded. “I’ll get you cleaned up, don’t you worry.”

“What the hell? You guys aren’t allowed to do this! What agency are you working for?”

Connor turned his full attention to Wagner, smiled, and with a blur of motion landed an open-handed smack across his face. The blow rocked the German’s head, and for a moment Wagner looked like he wasn’t completely aware of his surroundings.

“Listen, Fred,” Connor said. “You don’t get to ask the questions here.”

Wagner blinked a few times, and finally got a hold of himself. His eyes flicked back and forth between Connor and Annie. He smiled. “You guys are full of it.”

“Huh.” Annie squatted down in front of him and considered the fingers on his right hand. “You’re right-handed. Is that right?”

Wagner hesitated. “What do you—wait!”

Annie jerked Wagner’s pinky finger sideways. It broke with a sickening crack, and Wagner’s entire body arched in pain as he screamed. He rocked back and forth in the chair, and the zip ties dug into his skin.

“No! Please!” Wagner’s face flushed red, the veins in his neck bulging.

Annie grabbed his ring finger, took a long, patient breath, and looked in Wagner’s eyes with what Connor thought was real sympathy for the man. “Do you think we’re all talk now?” she said. “How’s your memory now?”

Wagner gritted his teeth against the pain. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. “Please…”

“And don’t think for a second this is the worst it can get,” Annie said. “Because I’m just getting warmed up.”

The door opened behind them, and Thompson walked in. His looked at Wagner and shook his head. “Jesus, Annie.”

“What? He can still talk.”

“I told you I don’t—no!”

Annie snapped the man’s ring finger. Connor winced as Wagner reeled, bouncing in the chair, twisting against the restraints. His voice cracked as he screamed, “Stop! Stop! Okay! Stop!”

“Oh,” Annie said, moving to the next finger, “did you remember something?”

“Please, don’t.” Wagner nodded frantically at her fingers wrapped around his. “Please!”

Annie shook her head. “First, tell me something interesting. Anything