“But Dubai specializes in turning deserts into lagoons like this apartment’s. You’ll be fine,” he said, then added softly, “As long as you didn’t tell Ben Kemal I was coming in exchange for favors. Then you won’t be fine at all, Palik.”
“I’m not a fool. You’re a good customer. Besides, though I’m not above a little betrayal now and then, I’ve seen the remains of a few people who have displeased you.” His white teeth flashed in his olive face. “I don’t intend to be one of them. I’m going to get rich on people like you, buy a palace in Morocco and live a long life.”
“I applaud your ambition.” Caleb moved across the garden and started to climb the trellis at the side of the building. He hadn’t really thought Palik would betray him, but it never hurt to send a ripple of uncertainty through people with whom you worked. Palik was smart and his contacts infallible, but, as he’d said, he’d seen Caleb at work. Fear could do strange things to twist a man’s thinking in ways other than the desired direction.
He reached the balcony and jumped silently down and glided toward the French doors. The alarms in this apartment building were top of the mark, as was everything else here. Sometimes that assurance bred a false confidence in the people who rented the luxury spaces. It took Caleb only ten minutes to disable the outside alarm and five to take care of the motion detectors inside.
The hunt was on.
He could feel his blood start to sing in his veins as he moved across the huge living room toward the bedroom area in the north side of the apartment.
He stopped and listened.
Yes, Ben Kemal was in the apartment. He could hear sounds from the bedroom just ahead—the sounds he should have expected from what Palik had told him of Ben Kemal’s sexual preferences. Perhaps he should have trusted Palik.
As if that was going to happen.
He moved toward the bedroom door.
Sobbing.
And that sharp leather crack.…
He silently opened the bedroom door.
It was what he’d expected. A handsome young boy of twelve or thirteen was tied naked to a huge bed with a carved headboard. His thin body was crisscrossed with livid whip marks, and as Caleb opened the door, another cutting stripe was added on his lower body.
The boy arched upward with an agonized moan.
The dark-haired man standing above him wielding the whip laughed. “Louder,” he said mockingly in Arabic. “Tell me who owns you.” His face was flushed and he was fully aroused. “Tell me who is your master.”
He hadn’t even noticed the door opening, Caleb realized. He was too involved with the sobbing boy on the bed.
He did hope that Ben Kemal wasn’t going to prove to be easy prey. He found he was very annoyed at the sight of that young boy.
“Stop moaning and give me the words.” Ben Kemal raised the whip again. “Do you want me to tell Mohamed that you didn’t please me?”
“No, please. He will—” The tears were pouring down the boy’s cheeks and he couldn’t speak. “Anything but that—”
“Not fast enough, Ahmed.” The whip was coming down.
But Caleb was there before it reached the boy, and he jerked it away and out of Ben Kemal’s hand. “I thought his answer was quite adequate, Ben Kemal. You’re much too picky.”
There was an instant of shock on Ben Kemal’s face. “Who—” He broke off and dived for the drawer of the nightstand a few feet away. The next instant, he had a gun in his hand and was rolling on the floor behind a chair.
A bullet tore past Caleb’s ear and buried itself in the carved headboard!
Not too easy, Caleb thought with satisfaction.
“That bullet almost hit the boy.” He was zigzagging across the room. “Of course, you wouldn’t care about that. But I really don’t like bullies, and your particular preference is a prime example.” He was over the top of the chair and landing on Ben Kemal like an attacking jaguar. “So you’d better be very cooperative and not displease me.”
“Son of a bitch.” He was struggling to get his gun up to aim at Caleb. “I’ll blow your brains out. Who the hell are you?”
“Someone who needs information. That’s what you sell, isn’t it?” Get it over with quickly, he told himself. No matter how much time he’d like to spend on the bastard, he needed to get in and out of here before anyone else showed up. Palik had said Ben Kemal sometimes invited friends to these parties. He liked to watch, as well. The edge of his hand came down on Ben Kemal’s forearm, causing the pistol to fly out of his hand and sail halfway across the room. “So you’re going to talk to me, but first I need to get rid of the boy. You’ll be going to sleep for the next few minutes. Take advantage of it. You’ll need the rest.” His hand reached down and clamped Ben Kemal’s carotid artery, and the man slumped sidewise, unconscious.
Caleb jumped to his feet and went over to the bed. He quickly cut the ropes binding the boy. “Get dressed and get out of here, Ahmed. Go down to the garden and you’ll see a man in a brown suit and beige vest. I’ll call ahead and tell him to take care of you.”
The boy was looking at the slumped body of Ben Kemal. “He’ll kill me,” he whispered. “He’ll blame me and hurt me.”
“No, he won’t. That’s over. This may be your lucky day. I’ll see that Palik will give you a chance. After that, it’s up to you.” He saw that Ben Kemal was beginning to stir, and he reached for his phone to dial Palik. “Out!”
By the time he’d finished talking to Palik, the boy had dressed and scampered out of the apartment.
Ben Kemal was glaring at him as he came fully awake. “Who are you? Why did you take the boy? None of this was necessary.” Then he was trying to make his tone ingratiating. “We could make a deal. I would have sold my time with Ahmed to you. I had him for the whole weekend.”
“Did you? Then I’m afraid that you’ve lost your money. You weren’t listening. I got rid of Ahmed because he was in the way.” He paused. “And I thought that he’d been traumatized enough without witnessing what I’ll do to you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”
“Are you threatening to torture me?” he asked scornfully. “Don’t waste your time. I grew up in Afghanistan and I was trained by the Taliban to resist torture.”
“Yes, I was told that you might prove difficult.” He knelt beside Ben Kemal. “But there is torture, and then there is torture. You’ll find it completely different to have your own body betray you and eventually kill you. It’s bewildering and exquisitely painful. You will break, Ben Kemal.”
“Screw you.”
“Just the response I wanted from you, but I feel bound to give you the opportunity to tell me the information I need.” He paused. “Santara contacted you when he was last here. He spent at least two days here at your apartment. Another day, you drove to the house he’d rented out of the city. I think that might have been the day that he’d arranged to have you meet with the Romanos. Is that right?”
“I don’t know any of those people.”
“You’ll remember them soon. All I want to know is what information Santara and the Romanos wanted from you. Or was it more than information? Did they pay for services, too?”
“I’m not stupid. How do you think I’ve survived as long as I have?” he asked. “I sell only information and leave the rest to bastards like Santara and you.”
“And then go back to pretty boys like Ahmed to expend all your money and venom.” He put his hand on Ben Kemal’s wrist. “This is your whip hand, isn’t it? Yes, I remember.… In one minute it’s going to swell to twice its size and blood is going to start pouring from beneath your fingernails.” His hand tightened. “Just a small harbinger of things to come.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Tell me what information Santara paid you to get.”
“Nothing,” he said defiantly. “I gave him—” He stopped as he saw the blood gushing from beneath his thumb. His eyes widened in horror. “What?”
Caleb’s hand moved to the bridge of his nose. “Thirty seconds and the blood will start pouring out your nostrils and down your throat as the vein ruptures. If I don’t stop it, the blood could choke you. What information?”