Silent Treatment

'I'll be in touch.'

Sir Gawaine took his briefcase and headedoff toward the subway station. Kevin stood there, numb and unseeing, his mindunwilling to sort through what had just been shared with him, except toacknowledge that if the situation was as Stallings believed, the possibilitiesopen to them were all unacceptable.

'Mister! Hey, mister!'

Kevin turned, startled. Two youths inshorts and Yankee caps stood on the sidewalk. They looked about ten — his sonNicky's age. Each wore a basketball glove.

'Yes, what is it?'

'Our ball, mister. It's right by yourfoot. Could you throw it to us?'

Kevin picked up the scuffed, grass-stainedhardball and tossed it back. The taller of the two boys snagged it easily, in away Kevin had watched Nicky catch a thousand of his throws.

'Thanks, mister,' the youth called. 'Nicearm. Nice arm.'

Chapter26

The night was warm and extremely muggy — the sort of night that invariably brought out the most vivid versions of thedream. He lay facedown on a sheet that was already drenched. His fists weretightly clenched and every muscle in his body was taut. At some level, he knewthat it was all in his past, that he was only reliving the hideous experiencein his mind.

But as always, he was powerless to wakehimself.

'. . Hyconidol almost matches, atom foratom, the pain fiber neurotransmitter chemical. That means I can fire thosenerves off all at once and at will. Every single one of them. Think of it, Mr.Santana. No injury … no mess … no blood. Just pain. Pure pain. Except inthe work I do, hyconidol has absolutely no clinical value. But if we ever domarket it, I thought an appropriate name for it might be Agonyl. It'sincredible stuff, if I do say so myself. A small injection? A little tingle. Alarger one? Well, I'm sure you get the picture.'

Ray's mouth becomes desert dry. Thepounding within his chest is so forceful that he feels certain The Doctor cansee it.

Please don't do this, he screams silently. Please. .

Perchek's thumb tightens on the plunger.

'I think we'll start with somethingmodest,' he says, 'equivalent, perhaps, to nothing more than a little coolbreeze over the cavities in your teeth. Our interest is in the identities ofthe Mexican undercover agents, Mr. Santana. Mr. Orsino will write down anynames you choose to give. And I should warn you. Some of the names we wish youto give us we already know. It would be most unpleasant for you should we catchyou attempting any sort of stall or deception.'

'Go fuck yourselves. How's that for astall or deception?'

The Doctor merely smiles.

The last voice Ray hears before theinjection is Joe Dash's.

There are three ways a man canchoose to handle dying…

The plunger of the syringe is depressedjust a bit.

In less than half a minute, Rayexperiences a mild vibration throughout his body, as if a low-grate electriccurrent has been turned on. His scalp tightens. The muscles in his face twitch.He rubs his fingertips together, trying to rid them of an unpleasant numbness.Perchek, meanwhile, has taken a handheld stopwatch from his valise.

'I would expect that miniscule dose tolast one minute and twenty seconds,' he said. 'Higher doses persist somewhatlonger. Although in this business, for you, time will become quite relative. Afew seconds will seem like an hour. A minute like a lifetime. Have you somenames for us?'

'Cary Grant, Mick Jagger, Marilyn Monroe.. '

Perchek shrugs and depresses the plungeronce more. The sensation doubles in intensity and quadruples in unpleasantness.This time, the pain is more burning than electric. Hot knives cut into Ray'shands and feet, into his abdomen, groin, and lower back. Sweat bathes him withthe suddenness of a summer thunderstorm, stinging his eyes, soaking hisT-shirt.

'Just a slightly higher dose and we'llhold it at that level for a while,' Perchek says, checking Ray's blood pressureand pulse. 'We're in no particular hurry, are we, Mr. Orsino?'

From outside, above and just beyond thewalls of the chamber, Ray can hear the revelry of the Fiesta de Nogales. Thefireworks and the music. The noisy celebration will go on throughout the night.It is doubtful he will be alive by the time it ends.

The Doctor is right. For Santana, the hourthat follows is an eternity. Twice he nearly passes out from the pain. Eachtime, Perchek uses a shot of some sort and an increase in the IV infusion tobring him around for the next series of injections. Ray becomes used to thesound of his own screaming. Somewhere along the way he wets himself. In betweeninjections, his muscles now continue to spasm uncontrollably. Several times hegroans out names. Perchek glances over at Orsino, who shakes his head. Ray'spunishment for lying is an increase in the dosage. His response, morescreaming.

. . Three ways a man can handledying. . three ways. . three ways. . three ways. .

His head lolls back. His vision blurs.Staring at the light from the bare bulb overhead no longer bothers his eyes. Itis as if the hideous pain has dulled his sight. Sweat continues pouring fromhis body. His nervous system is shattered, his mind ready to snap. He has togive them a name they can verify — something, anything to stop Perchek'schemical onslaught, even for a little while. He has done his best to drag outJoe Dash's first two stages. Now, his resistance is gone. He has to give themsomething that will stop the pain.

'You bastard!' he screeches as the dose isincreased once more. 'You fucking bastard! Okay. Okay. No more. I'll-'

He is cut short by the tunnel door behindhim scraping open. Through a dense haze, he hears a man's breathless voice.

'Anton, there are government troopsoutside!' the man exclaims in perfect English. 'Dozens of them. I think theyhave Alacante. U.S. agents just raided the Arizona house, too. The tunnelentrance is still closed, but it's only a matter of time before they find it.They're after you, Anton. I don't know how they found out, but they know you'rehere.'

The voice. Ray strains to pull togetherthe floating fragments of his thoughts. He knows the voice.

'Orsino, is there another way out ofhere?' Perchek asks.

'Through that door, Doctor. There's ashort tunnel to a house across the street. Alacante had it built.'

'Listen,' the voice says, 'I've got to getback before they find the main tunnel and me in it.'

'I am grateful for the warning, myfriend.'

'You know how to reach me if there'sanything I can do.'

The tunnel door scrapes shut. There are afew seconds of echoing footsteps, then silence. But in those moments, Ray'sclouded mind locks in on the voice.

Sean Garvey!

'Garvey, you bastard!. . You son of abitch!' he shrieks, remembering the moment he and his boss had been hauled offby Alacante's men.

The signs that something wasrotten with Garvey had been there a dozen times over, he thinks now. How carelessit had been not to have picked up on them. How stupid.

'Mr. Santana, it appears our business mustcome to a premature closure,' Perchek says.

From somewhere on the floor above themcomes the sound of a door being smashed in. Then there is gunfire.

'Doctor, I think we should go,' Orsinosays.