“Good,” said Smith. “So tell me how Kira Miller got the drop on you.”
Desh told him about receiving the fake message from Griffin and what had happened at the hacker’s apartment. Smith interrupted occasionally for clarification but said very little otherwise. When Desh described how Kira had stripped him and had him dress in sweats, Smith glanced at his gray outfit, considerably worse for wear since Kira had pulled it from her duffel, and an amused smile came over his face.
Smith listened intently as Desh described the precautions Kira had taken at the motel. Smith was well aware that they had worked to great effect on his men. Desh ended his narrative at the point at which Kira had exited through the adjoining motel room, leaving out any mention of her claims of having invented material that could hide her heat signature.
“Damn she’s slippery,” commented Smith when Desh was finished. “It’s uncanny how she manages to stay at large. And then, to risk kidnapping the elite soldier coming after her practically in the middle of the nation’s capital—and get away with it. She has balls the size of Texas,” he said, partly in frustration and partly in admiration.
Smith paused in thought as they shot along the dark highway, nearly abandoned at this early hour except for the occasional trucker hauling cargo through the night. The car’s ride was smooth and its well-tuned engine issued only the softest of roars to interrupt what would have otherwise been a cocoon of silence. Desh’s entire universe had been reduced to the luxury interior of an expensive sedan, the twenty-foot swath made by its headlights as they cut through the enveloping darkness, and a stranger using an alias whose motives were currently just as hidden as the stretch of road beyond the headlights.
“Okay,” began Smith, having finally plotted his interrogation. “You said she talked with you for an hour or so. What did she talk about?”
“She claimed she was innocent,” said Desh. “She wanted to convince me.”
“Did she say why this was important to her?”
“No,” said Desh. He considered telling the black-ops officer that she had told him her goal was to recruit him to her side, but immediately decided against it.
“Did she explain away all the bizarre deaths and disappearances that occurred around her when she was growing up? Or the death of her boss? Or the murder of her brother?”
“She insisted she didn’t kill her parents. The other incidents didn’t come up at all. Neither did any mention of Ebola or bio-weapons. She mentioned terrorists only in the context of denying that she had any connection to them.”
“I see. Then on what grounds did she claim to be innocent if she made no effort to refute the airtight evidence against her?”
Desh shrugged. “I don’t know. Your men interrupted before she got that far.”
“Let me understand. She wanted to prove her innocence. Yet after an hour of discussion she had not addressed even a single thing she was accused of?”
“That’s right,” responded Desh.
Smith took both eyes off the ruler-straight road and studied Desh for several seconds. Finally, apparently unable to find any signs of deceit, he returned his attention to the road. “So what did she talk about in that time?”
Desh sighed. “About experiments she conducted to increase her own intelligence. The theory behind it, the results of the experiments; that sort of thing.”
Smith raised his eyebrows. “Did she say she was successful?”
Desh nodded. “She claims to be able to enhance her intelligence to immeasurable levels.”
“I see,” said Smith, noncommittally. “And did she tell you how she applied this newfound brilliance of hers?” he asked.
“Not a word,” said Desh.
“Did she offer you anything?” asked Smith.
“Like what? Money?”
Smith studied him carefully once again, as if this would enable him to precisely judge the sincerity of Desh’s response. “Like anything. Money. Power. Enhanced intelligence of your own.” He raised his eyebrows. “Other considerations that might be appealing.”
Desh furrowed his brow in confusion. “Other considerations? You can’t mean sex,” he said in disbelief.
Smith shook his head irritably. “Of course not,” he replied.
Desh shrugged. “Then I’m afraid you’ve lost me. But regardless of what you’re trying to hint at, she didn’t offer me a single thing. Period. Not a thin dime. Not that I could be bought in any case,” he added pointedly.
Smith paused for a long time in thought. “Did you believe her story?” he asked finally, taking a new tack.
“What, about her ability to elevate her IQ, or that she was innocent?”