“You came to see the woman for religious reasons? You didn’t know she helped transport arms to your country? It’s just coincidence that we found you at her house while you were on a spiritual mission? You are a very entertaining man, I think.”
“My women have always told me that.”
“You worked for the Americans in your country?”
“Of course. Everyone does.”
“But you planned to help Al Qaeda?”
“An American helicopter killed my children. But I know now that I am responsible for their deaths, not others.”
“Oh, I see. Because you have discovered you are powerless against the killers of your children, you blame yourself and, in so doing, become a saint. So, in our way, we are helping you with your saintliness?”
“You taunt an uneducated man whose hands are bound after you have tortured him?” the Asian woman said from her cell. “You are a very small man, Mr. Sholokoff.”
“Frank, take care of that,” Sholokoff said.
“Sir?” Frank said.
“Ms. Ling. Take care of her.”
“The only way to shut her up is to pour concrete in her mouth,” Frank said.
“Then do it,” Sholokoff said.
“Sir, we need to finish with the greaser one way or another,” Frank said.
“All I get from you are admonitions but never results. In the last forty-eight hours, we have had in our possession a defense contractor, a notorious kidnapper and coyote, and an ex–CIA operative who flew with Air America. We get nothing out of any of them. Are you successful only with a worthless man like Cody Daniels? You certainly seemed to rise to the occasion when you turned him into a living passion play. I wonder about you, Frank.”
“That was your doing, sir,” Frank said. He was standing behind Sholokoff, wearing tight leather gloves like a race-car driver might wear, his flat stomach exposed by his scissored-off T-shirt.
Sholokoff turned in his chair. “You need to explain yourself, Frank.”
“We shouldn’t have been wasting our time on the minister. It wasn’t me that had the hard-on about him. That’s all I was saying.”
Sholokoff puffed on his cigarette, his eyes warm and shiny, exhaling the smoke from his nostrils. He put out the cigarette under his foot, then picked up the butt and handed it to one of his men to dispose of. “Frank, tell me this. Why is it that Sheriff Holland is not responding to our calls? Even after we sent part of Temple Dowling to his office. Why is a man like Holland, a personal friend of Ms. Ling, seemingly detached from her fate?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Frank said.
“Could it be that he no longer has Noie Barnum in his possession? Or that he’s closer to us now than he was this morning?”
“You mean he’s coming here?” Frank said.
“Put Antonio back in his cell. I have to use the bathroom,” Sholokoff said. “While I’m gone, I want you to devise something special for Ms. Ling. I also don’t want to have to correct you again. Do you understand me, Frank?”
“Loud and clear, Mr. S.,” Frank said.
“Señor, you got a minute for me?” Krill said from the floor, staring through the legs of the men who surrounded him.
“You want me to be your friend now, Antonio? To take you out of all this unhappiness?” Sholokoff said.
“Yes, sir. I am very tired of it.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“I don’t want to be here when the next bad thing happens.”
“With Ms. Ling?”