“I understand,” David said. I’ve bought some time. Would it be enough to get out of here? One goal dominated David’s mind: finding Kate. He needed information to do that. “I do have one… request. As I said, I’ve been in transit. I’d like to hear any updates you have. Anything unclassified, of course.”
Rukin sat back in the metal chair, seeming to relax for the first time. “The rumor is that Dorian Sloane has returned. Naturally he was arrested outside the Antarctica structure. But they say he carried a case. The morons in charge took that case back to HQ and it blew up the building. Darwinism at work, if you ask me.”
“What happened to Sloane?”
“That’s the strangest part. The story is that in interrogation, he killed a guard and ripped open Chairman Sanders’ throat. Then, get this, they kill him—double tap to the head, close range. An hour later, he walks out of the structure. A completely new body—with all his memories. Not a scratch on him.”
“Impossible…”
“And then some. The Immari are desperate to create this mythical story around him. It’s working. The rank and file worship him now. The end of days, Messiah, rapture rhetoric… here in Ceuta and every other place that flies the Immari flag. It’s nauseating.”
“You’re not a believer?”
“I believe the whole world is circling the drain and Immari International is the only piece of shit that floats.”
“Then… let’s hope it continues to float. Major, I’m a bit exhausted from my trip.”
“Sure.”
Rukin called two soldiers in and instructed them to escort David to quarters and arrange for round-the-clock guard.
Alexander Rukin stubbed out the cigarette and stared at the words on the page.
The door opened, and Captain Kamau, his second-in-command, entered.
The tall African spoke slowly in a deep voice. “You buy his story, sir?”
“Sure. It’s about as real as the Easter Bunny.” Rukin lit another cigarette and peered into the pack. Three left.
“Who is he?”
“No idea. He’s somebody though. A pro. Maybe one of ours, probably one of theirs.”
“You want me to call it in?”
“Please.” Rukin handed him the strip of paper. “And put him under heavy guard. Make sure he sees nothing more than what the Allies can already see from the air.”
“Yes, sir.” Kamau studied the ship of paper. “Colonel Alex Wells?”
Rukin nodded. “I’m not certain it’s a fake name, but it’s strangely similar to Arthur Wellesley.”
“Wellesley?”
“The Duke of Wellington. Defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo. Never mind.”
“If he’s a fake, why don’t we take him now? Interrogate him?”
“You’re a good soldier, Kamau, but you’re lousy at intelligence work. We need to know what we’re dealing with here. He could lead us to a bigger fish or reveal a larger operation at work. Sometimes you use the small fish as bait.”
The major stubbed out the cigarette. He was good at waiting. “Bring him a girl. See if he’s more talkative with her.” He glanced at the cigarette pack again. “And get me some more smokes.”
“The commissary ran out yesterday, sir.” Kamau paused. “But I heard Lieutenant Shaw won some in a card game last night.”
“Really? It’s too bad they got stolen. Some men are sore losers.”
“I’ll see to it, sir.”
David rubbed his eyelids. He was certain of two things: that Major Rukin hadn’t bought his story, and that he couldn’t shoot his way out of here. David decided he would rest, then try to take the guards at the door. After that, he wasn’t sure.
A soft knock interrupted his internal debate.
David stood. “Come in.”
A thin woman with flowing black hair and light caramel skin stepped in, quickly closing the door behind her. “Compliments of Major Rukin,” she said softly, not looking at him.
The girl was beautiful, truly. The more of this world David saw, the less he liked it.
“You can go.”
“Please—”
“Go,” David insisted.
“Please, Mister. There will be trouble for me if you turn me away.”
In his mind’s eye, David saw the girl climbing on top of him after he’d fallen asleep and running a knife blade across his throat. He wouldn’t put it past Rukin. He couldn’t take the risk. “There could be trouble for me if you stay. Go. I won’t tell you again.”
She exited without another word.
Another knock, more urgent this time.
“I said no—”
The door opened, revealing a tall African man. He nodded to the two guards and walked in, closing the door firmly.
A single phrase ran through David’s mind. Game Over. “Kamau,” he whispered.
“Hello, David.”
CHAPTER 37
Immari Operations Base at Ceuta
Northern Morocco
For a long moment, neither David nor Kamau said a word. They simply stood there, staring at each other.
David broke the silence. “Have you come to take me to the major?”
“No.”
“Have you told him who I am?”
“No. Nor will I.”