“What the fuck?”
“I take it it’s you. This is Colonel Pool.”
“I know who it is,” Raoul replied, grinding his teeth. “I just wondered at your gall, calling at all, but especially today.”
Zeke placed a restraining hand on Raoul’s arm. Just as well, otherwise Raoul might have damaged a very expensive high-tech phone by throwing it across the room. They both knew Pool had been reassigned following the debacle on the West Bank, and he had been riding a desk at the Pentagon ever since. What was less clear was why he chose to call them.
“I have a good reason for getting in touch.”
“So I should fucking hope.”
“Er, the thing is, I thought you should know, a house on the West Bank was raided by our forces a couple of days ago following a tipoff. We found a prisoner there.”
“Levi?” Raoul asked, hope flaring.
“Negative. The prisoner was a woman. She doesn’t remember anything about how she got there, or anything much at all, but…well—” Pool noisily cleared his throat. Raoul flashed a look at Zeke, who appeared equally bewildered. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but our people on the ground think it might be your wife.”
Raoul, who had withstood a week’s torture at the hands of the freedom fighters and barely shown any reaction, felt his legs give way beneath him. He fell into a chair and shared an astounded glance with Zeke. It couldn’t possibly be true. He’d seen her dead body with his own eyes, albeit on a computer, but he knew enough about death not to be fooled by a ruse. Didn’t he?
“Is this some sort of sick joke?” He growled.
“I don’t expect you to believe this, but I feel real bad about what happened to you guys, and to your wife, Washington. I wouldn’t have made this call unless we had good reason to hope.”
“You met her often enough,” Raoul said. “Surely you would know if it’s her.”
“I think it is, but she’s been through a rough time and, if it is her, her appearance has changed a lot.”
“Fuck!” Raoul muttered.
“You say she doesn’t remember anything,” Zeke said.
“Not even her name. But she keeps mumbling something that sounds like your name, Washington.”
“She says Raoul?”
“Far as we can make out. And Ze.” The guys shared another protracted look. Raoul didn’t want to get his hopes up, because he didn’t think he could stand the pain of disappointment. Even so, a gasp caught in his throat, while his heart thumped faster than his pulse. Cantara’s pet name for Zeke was Ze. “She’s sedated, a bit delirious, but our people are sure she’s muttered the word Wyoming once or twice.”
Even Zeke’s swarthy complexion had paled. “Do you have a picture?” he asked Pool.
“Yeah, but like I say, she—”
“Send it to us right now!” Raoul yelled.
Raoul and Zeke stood by their computer, trembling with a combination of anxiety and anticipation as they waited for the picture to come through. Zeke muttered a few words in the Arapahoan language. Raoul merely muttered as he twisted the fingers of both hands together so tightly they were in danger of dislocating.
“If this is a wind-up, I’ll go to the Pentagon and this time you would be able to stop me from breaking his miserable fucking neck.” He growled.
“You’ll need to stand in line, bud.”
“Shit, what’s taking so long?” Raoul glared at his computer, willing the e-mail to come in. “This waiting is fucking killing me.”
“Do you really think it could be her?” Zeke asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” Raoul shook his head, wondering now if his especially vivid dream was attributable to more than just the dateline. If his sixth sense had picked up on something, why the fuck had it waited so long? He hadn’t doubted for a moment that Cantara was dead. “That video we saw looked real to me, but…hell, it never even occurred to me to think she could still be alive. The Israelis raided the place where we were held and it was deserted, no sign of her, and nothing to lend a clue as who it was who’d been there.”
“That’s what they told us.” Zeke growled. “Perhaps we were too trusting.”
“Fuck, I never would have left the region if I’d had the slightest inkling she might still be alive.”
“Me neither.”
Raoul ploughed a hand through his hair, calling himself all sorts of an idiot. “How could we not have thought about it, Zeke? Asked more questions? Probed more deeply? We’re supposed to be highly-trained professionals. It’s what professionals do. They question everything.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t do that, buddy. We were pretty psyched up with grief, I guess, and actually believed what we were told. We ought to have known better, but we also knew they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if they even suspected something was off about her.” He shrugged. “If they somehow found out the two of you were married, that would be enough—”
“Shit!”
“Right, we believed our own hype. We made a rookie error. If it is her.”
“You think the brass knew and didn’t tell us?” Raoul asked, gripped by a murderous rage.
“Dunno. It would account for why they let us get out before our time, I guess.”
“They didn’t want us around to ask awkward questions.”
“Yeah, most likely.” Zeke looked as bewildered as Raoul felt. “Still, first things first. Let’s not get our hopes up, but we do need to know if it’s her.”