Two of Locsin’s men were standing guard next to a particular pumper engine with Vietnamese writing on the side that sat on the edge of the warehouse, right between a heavy rescue vehicle destined for the Manila Fire Department and a gigantic yellow airport crash tender with nozzles jutting from its front. Hoses coiled up next to the eight-wheeled truck were still wet, as if its water tank had just been filled.
Locsin, who had been pacing around the room like he had more energy than he could contain, must have noticed Raven looking at the crash tender because he strode to the window and boasted, “They were testing that this afternoon on the proving grounds outside. I saw it myself. Very impressive. The nozzle is so powerful that its water can reach a burning plane from over one hundred yards away.” He spoke English like an educated man, not the brutal thug that he was.
“Skip the ridiculous lecture,” Raven said. “What do you want?”
She got the response she was expecting. Locsin was obviously not used to being sneered at by a woman. He stalked over to her, his face twisted in anger, and smacked her cheek with a vicious open-handed slap. Beth gasped, but Raven merely winced and worked her jaw to get through the pain, which was nothing compared to what she’d gone through when she was caught in the explosion of an IED in Afghanistan. She had endured two abdominal surgeries, and received the Purple Heart and a Bronze Star, for two minutes of what the Army deemed a heroic act, even though she just thought of it as her job. The scars on her torso were a daily reminder that she could live through anything, including this.
But she could tell Locsin had held back. He could easily have broken her jaw if he’d wanted to.
“By the time we’re done with you, you’ll give us anything we want,” he said, letting that sit for a moment to stir their imaginations. However, Raven felt sure that any assault would be limited to torture. She knew heavy steroid use often left men performance-challenged.
Locsin reared back to strike Raven again, but Beth shouted, “Wait! I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
Locsin lowered his hand. “Which is what?”
“I was the one who planted the tracker on the finial. Don’t take that out on her.”
“You wanted the other paintings, didn’t you?” He sat on the edge of the desk, suddenly calm again.
Beth nodded. “I thought I might be able to follow you to them. Do you have them?”
Locsin grinned. “That would be something, wouldn’t it? Maybe I’ll keep you alive just in case I do. Your services as an art historian might be useful. But I’m still confused about the man with the weaponized truck. Who is he?”
“He’s a friend.”
“Name?”
She looked at Raven, who nodded for her to tell them. Withholding his name wasn’t worth getting tortured.
“Juan Cabrillo.”
“Is he American like you?”
Beth nodded.
“Government?”
“Not anymore,” Raven said. “Former CIA. Now he’s a private contractor.”
Locsin’s grin disappeared. “And what does he want with me?”
“He was working with us to f
ind you.”
“And he just happened to be there to kidnap my scientists?”
Raven shrugged. “We can’t help that you run a shoddy operation.”
Locsin bristled, and his tone got menacing. “Where is Ocampo now?”
“Some safe house somewhere, blabbing his guts out. Anybody who wants to kill or capture you now knows whatever Ocampo and his people know. You really should consider a new occupation.”
Locsin ground his jaw, never taking his eyes off Raven. She seemed to have struck a nerve.
“I think everything you’ve said is a lie,” Locsin said. “I’ve got a helicopter coming to pick you up and take you somewhere you won’t ever be found, but I can’t join you for a few days and I’m not very patient. You remember that airport truck out there? I think a few minutes being blasted by eight hundred gallons of water per minute will change your story.”
Raven smirked at him. “I need a shower anyway. I feel pretty nasty being around you. In fact, I might need two showers to get your stink off me.”