Desh said nothing.
“Which makes everything I say suspect. The more reasonable, the more suspect, since you’ve been preconditioned to believe it’s all manipulation,” she said in frustration. “Have you ever seen a faith healer on TV?”
Desh nodded, wondering where she was heading.
“There was a guy who gathered video evidence on one of them, showing it was all a scam. The faith healer’s accomplices were researching people waiting in line, feeding him information through a hidden ear piece so he would appear to have divine knowledge; that sort of thing.” She paused. “When the devout followers of this faith healer were shown the footage, do you know what happened?”
“They stopped being his devout followers.”
“Reasonable guess. But no. They were more his followers than ever. They claimed that the evidence was rigged. That it was the work of Satan who was trying to discredit the work of a great man.” Kira shook her head. “If you truly believe you’re up against the King Of Lies, no amount of evidence can ever change your mind.” She sighed and a weary expression crossed her face. “I just hope that’s not the case with you.”
Desh furrowed his brow in frustration. “Why do you hope it’s not the case with me?” he demanded. “Why do you care what I think? And even if you could recruit me, what good will I do you? You have entire terrorist organizations to do your bidding.”
“Try to at least entertain the possibility that I’m not who you’ve been told I am,” she said in exasperation. “I am not affiliated with terrorists.”
“Is your net worth a lie as well?”
“No.”
“So even if you’re telling the truth, you could hire as many bodyguards and mercenaries as you wanted.”
“Yes. I could. But I’m worth too much to the people after me. I’d never be able to fully trust these types. I learned that the hard way,” she added gravely. She gestured to Desh. “You, on the other hand, are motivated by doing what’s right rather than by material rewards. You are a man of integrity and compassion, despite the violent profession you chose. And along with that, you have a very unique personality, philosophy, and array of talents.”
Desh raised his eyebrows. “That’s quite a character sketch you’ve put together based on a bit of information on a laptop,” he noted.
She smiled knowingly. “Read hundreds of personal e-mail messages and you’d be surprised at how quickly you can get a feel for someone. But your laptop wasn’t my first stop—it was my last. Everything is accessible by computer now if you know where to look. Everything. Your college records. Extensive military records and evaluations. The kinds of books you purchase online. Everything.”
“Psychiatric evaluations?” added Desh accusingly, recalling how his soul had been laid bare during the few sessions he had had with the military Psychiatrist after his team had been butchered in Iran. Of all the records to which she had access, this would be the biggest violation of privacy of them all.
Kira lowered her eyes and then nodded uncomfortably. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, appearing once again to be completely sincere. “From the moment you were assigned, I studied everything I could get my hands on to understand you as a person. Including that. I won’t lie to you.” She lifted her eyes and locked them onto Desh’s once again. “I studied the others Connelly sent after me as well,” she said. “Just as thoroughly. But they weren’t what I was looking for.” She leaned toward Desh intently. “You are. I’m sure of it.”
The corners of Desh’s mouth turned up in a small, ironic smile, and he shook his head in clear disbelief.
“I know, I know,” she said in frustration, “Flattery is also a tool of a master manipulator, and you’re not buying it. Be that as it may, it happens to be the truth.” She paused. “Look . . . David . . . you yourself pointed out I could have easily recruited others with your skill set.”
Desh said nothing, but silently bristled at her use of his first name.
“So why would I choose you and go to such pains to abduct you,” continued Kira, “putting myself at this kind of risk, instead of just calling a mercenary—or one of my terrorist friends for that matter—on the phone?”
“Because I have special qualities,” he said skeptically. “I get it.”
Kira frowned. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy,” she said resignedly. “There’s only one way I can ever hope to gain your trust. I know that. So I’ll tell you what, when I’ve said my piece, I’ll remove your cuffs and give you my gun. If that doesn’t demonstrate my sincerity, nothing will.”