Bahar sighed sadly. “He was a good man. Hard working. That is all I will say.”
“Would he be proud of you? Or is it just the bloodthirsty sheik at your local mosque who is proud of you? You know, the old man who walks around in his long robes and poisons your mind with thoughts of violence while he himself sits back and does nothing?”
Bahar’s nostrils flared. “You know nothing.”
“I think I know more than you think I do.”
“What do you want with me? What am I doing here?”
“You’ve heard of Gitmo, haven’t you? I’m pretty sure everyone in this sandbox has heard of Gitmo.”
“Yes,” came the weak reply. “So you’re going to torture me?”
“No, that’s not my department. In your case, I’m the guy who gets the ball rolling, not the blood flowing.”
The door scraped open behind Bahar. A uniformed aid entered the room, went around the table, and whispered something in the captain’s ear. The captain nodded, thanked the aide, and then the aide left, the door slamming shut behind him.
“Well, Bahar, it looks like you’re about to get a second chance at life.”
“What do you mean?”
Captain Savage closed his file, folded his hands, and placed them on the table. “In a moment, someone else is going to come in here and speak with you. They’re going to put an offer in front of you. And Bahar, before you decline, I would think very hard about it. They’ll offer it once, and never again.” He stood up and came around the table. He placed a hand on Bahar’s shoulder. “Good luck, kid. I hope you can turn your life around for the better.”
When the door slammed shut again, Bahar’s entire body trembled. His head swam with a fear he had never experienced. It was all he could do to keep from throwing up.
Chapter Sixteen
I sat in the silence for over an hour, the air inside the hood growing increasingly stuffy. My mind continued to consider what kind of dilemma I was in. It was an effort in futility. The answers would play out in time, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the time I didn’t make it out alive.
Finally, after my hands turned numb and my entire body had grown stiff in the chair, a door opened and then shut. Footsteps scuffed across the floor. They stopped, and all I could hear was someone breathing quietly through their nose.
“Well, well. Is this not… humorous?”
The hood slipped off my head, and I winced from the glare of the overhead lights. I assessed the room as my eyes adjusted. No larger than ten square feet, bare white walls, and a folding chair in front of me. That was it.
My captor tossed the hood into the corner, moved over to the empty chair, and sat. He wore loose-fitting pants and a button-down shirt. I blinked as recognition washed over me. His hair was longer, slicked back in an oily shine. His beard was longer, too, and well groomed. In the intervening decade, his features had grown more rugged, and his eyes, no longer filled with fear and regret, were brimming with confidence.
“Captain Savage. It has been a long time.”
I nodded. “Bahar. It has been a long time.”
“So you do remember me.”
“Of course I remember you. You almost blew one of my squads to kingdom come.”
“Yes. That is true. How interesting life can be. It now looks as though the events of our lives have flipped. Now you are the captive, and I am the interrogator.”
“You look good, Bahar. I take it you took that deal?”
“Yes. I took the CIA’s deal.” He searched my face and held a contented smile. “I must say, I never thought we would meet again.”
“So… you’re The Recruit?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“You’ve come a long way. From what I hear, you’re a busy man these days.”
“That I am.”
“So, what am I doing here?”
“You seem to have spoken with Emmanuel Samaras. As I am sure you know, he left me a message on an internet forum. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the number belongs to you. What was the purpose of that?”
“What was the purpose? Bahar, you kidnapped Kathleen Rose. I came to Greece to find her.”
His brow creased, his eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry?”
I sighed. “This is how we’re going to play this?”
“Play what, Captain Savage?”
“You kidnap me, bring me out here—wherever here is—and then act like you don’t know what I’m talking about? How does that help either one of us?”
Bahar spread his hands and tried to smile. “Perhaps we should start over. I am confused. And it appears that you are as well.”
“Okay. Let’s start over. Why am I here?”
“I have told you. You used Emmanuel Samaras to find me. You have succeeded, and I want to know what it is you want from me.”
I could feel the frustration building inside me. Either Bahar was playing it dumb or he really didn’t know what I wanted. If the latter, then he also didn’t know anything about Kathleen. I studied him closely as I said, “What do you know about Kathleen Rose?”
“Kathleen Rose? Nothing. I have not heard that name before today.”
“You didn’t kidnap her from the central market two days ago?”
His features folded into a confused frown. “No. I did not. Who is she to you?”
“She’s my boss and the director of a Homeland Security component agency. And my friend,” I added.
He nodded. “I saw that you were working for Homeland now. For their Federal Intelligence Directorate. You say she was kidnapped, here in Athens?”
“Now you know everything I do.”
“And you think I took her?”
“That’s literally the word on the street, Bahar.”
“Who is saying this?”
“A guy whose name I never got, and Emmanuel Samaras. They said it fits your M.O.”
Bahar stood up and paced the small room. “I did not do that. I have not even heard of this before now.”
“Then who did take her?”
He shook his head. “I do not know.”
“You’ll forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.”
He
