“The live one is Sadun, and the dead one is Rahil,” Nick informed them. “There’s duct tape in my bag, and more plastic ties in the main zippered section next to my laptop.”
“How the fuck do you do this, Nick?” Grace stared into the sightless eyes of Rahil mounted inside his grotesquely twisted head. She helped Tim plastic tie Sadun. They had to secure his forearms because of his broken wrist. Tim added duct tape around his hands.
“Do what, save your lives, save the chip, catch the bad guys, or put us in line to nab the traitor inside the AG’s office?”
Tim laughed, but Grace pointed at Nick’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “When this ends, I never want to see you again. The closest I get to you from this day forward is your picture on the back of a Diego assassin novel I’m reading.”
“I’m thinking of signing on with Nick,” Tim said. “I don’t have a keen imagination, but I can imagine how the authorities are going to find the guys who tortured Sal and Sorenson. If I imagine a brutal ending, would I be close, Nick?”
“If I knew what you were talking about, I would say brutal is an accurate term.”
“You were writing on that damn laptop all the way to DC, through stops and everything,” Grace said. “I bet you’re writing another damn bestselling Diego novel, aren’t you?”
“Yep, and I wrote nearly three thousand words in it. I wrote you into it, Grace. You’re this frumpy bag lady who barfs on Diego as he’s walking in Salerno, and he shoots her right between the eyes. It’s a wonderfully touching part.”
Even Grace laughed.
“How come you don’t write on one of those new tablets, Nick,” Tim asked.
“Professional writers don’t peck away on manuscripts with their thumbs, pal. Tablets are handy for accessing data, or checking traffic reports, or doing inventory. Writers don’t write on tablets, unless it’s to go on Facebook, and complain about their dinner to a thousand people who don’t give a shit.”
“Okay… enough with the writerly tidbits,” Grace said. “Where are we going, and what do you have in mind for our live clucks back here.”
“I’m taking them to 950 Pennsylvania Avenue, so you can deliver them and the chip to the AG in person. No more standins. If he wants to sell it to the highest bidder, then we’re all in shit city anyhow. I’m certain you two are capable enough to determine who blocked your message to the AG before we left, and launched Rahil and Sadun on us at the airport. Make a deal with Sadun back there. Get him to inform on whoever it is. Whenever they release him from prison, I’m going to kill him, and I’m going to take a week to do it. His partner got off easy. They tortured and killed a friend of mine. I can stop somewhere and get the name for you if you’d like. You won’t be able to turn him over to the authorities though.”
Sadun had been listening intently. “I know you cannot torture me. I will tell you nothing.”
“If they give you to me, I’ll make you talk in less than five minutes,” Nick said. “I broke the bones in your wrist with my hand. Imagine what it would be like if I take hold of your dick. I hope they let you go, Uthman baby. I’m going to introduce you to a world you never dreamed existed. What’s it going to be, Grace?”
“Let’s give him to Nick,” Tim urged, beginning the other ploy Nick had rehearsed with them. “Then we’ll have a name to give the AG.”
“The hell with it. I don’t care. Drop us off, and we’ll handle Clyde. Call us when you get a name from Sadun,” Grace agreed. She and Tim moved Sadun from near the sliding door to a position against the driver’s side rear area.
“Good,” Nick said. “Wrap his ankles with duct tape too. Then truss him up at his back like a hog on the spit. I’ll gut him, and let him watch his intestines pop out like his hirelings did to Sally. It’s messy, but I’ll have the name in moments. Besides, he rented the Caravan. I can take Clyde here too, and see what he knows.”
“No!” The previously silent Clyde was suddenly talkative and helpful. “Don’t… don’t give me to this guy. I’ll testify. I’ll give you anything you want… anything.”
Tim began tearing off strips of duct tape while Grace held Uthman Sadun’s legs.
“Wait! Nancy Pettinger!” Sadun virtually screamed the name out as Tim began to wrap his ankles.
Tim grinned at Nick’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You are indeed the best there is at this game, Nick, you damn bloody pirate.”
Grace called in directly to the Attorney General’s office. She did not waver with the go between secretary until the Attorney General was put on the line at Grace’s insistence of a national emergency. She explained the situation in detail before urging him to have Nancy Pettinger detained. After the call, Nick was nearing The Department of Justice building.