CHAPTER 36
Immari Jakarta Headquarters
Jakarta, Indonesia
On the elevator, Kate had fought at the guards’ vice-grip hold on her arms. They pinned her to the wall until the elevator doors opened, then hauled her into a room with what looked like a reclining dentist’s chair. They threw her down, strapped her in, and said, “The doctor will be right in.” They had laughed as they walked out.
Now she waited. The relief at seeing Martin felt like a million years ago. The wide straps cut into her arms, just above where the zip-ties had gouged her wrists. Fear started to grip her. The room’s walls were stark white, and except for the chair, the only thing in the room was a steel high-top table with a round bundle on it. She could barely see it from the reclining chair, which forced her gaze up at the buzzing florescent lights.
The door opened, and she craned her head up to see. It was him — the man who had taken the kids. The man who took her from the soldier’s van. A wide smile spread across his face. It was a mean smile, the kind that said, “I have you now.”
He stopped a few feet from her face. “You’ve gotten me in a lot of trouble today, little girl. But life is about second chances.” He walked over to the steel table and unrolled the bundle. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate could barely make out the gleam of steel utensils, long and pointy. He glared back at her over his shoulder. “Oh, who am I kidding? In my experience, life is about payback.” He took out one of his tools of torture — a smaller version of a grilling skewer. “You’re going to tell me what I need to know, and I hope it takes as long as physically possible.”
Another man came in. He wore a white coat and held something Kate couldn’t quite see, possibly a syringe. “What are you doing?” he asked the torturer.
“Getting started. What are you doing?”
“That’s not the plan. We use the drugs first — those are the orders.”
“Not my orders.”
Kate lay there helpless as the men stared at each other, the torturer holding the silver prod, the white-coat clutching the syringe.
Finally, syringe-man said, “Whatever. I’m going to give her this, then you can do whatever you want.”
“What is it?”
“Something new we’re using in Pakistan. Basically turns their brains to mush; they’ll tell you anything.”
“Is it permanent?” the torturer asked.
“Sometimes. Been lots of different side effects. We’re still working on it.” He jammed the oversized syringe into Kate’s arm and injected slowly. She felt the cold liquid fill her veins. She fought against the straps, but they were too tight.
“How long will it take?”
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Will she remember?”
“Probably not.”
The torturer set the silver tool down and walked over to Kate. He ran a hand down her chest and legs. “So cute. And feisty. Maybe they’ll let me have you when they have their answers.”