“Well, at least there’s somewhat of an ocean view here.”
They continued down a dim corridor until they reached cell B102. Patrick tugged on a small door, revealing an opening just large enough for him to see inside the room.
“You have some visitors, Tabari,” Patrick said.
They waited about a minute for Tabari Sharaf to come to the door. The guards checked his shackles and then restrained his hands behind his back with a pair of handcuffs.
Sharaf remained solemn, refusing to look any of his captors in the eye as he trudged down the hall to a small conference room. He stopped on the other side of the table and slumped into his chair. Hawk and Alex settled into their seats across from Sharaf.
Patrick introduced them as lawyers with a human rights group. Sharaf, who’d been imprisoned for more than five years, seemed to believe Patrick yet remained guarded until everyone but Hawk and Alex vacated the room.
Hawk conducted the conversation in Arabic, while Alex captured every word of it on her computer.
“For the record, it would be helpful if you repeated back our questions for documentation,” Hawk began. “We want this conversation to be in your words.”
Sharaf nodded.
“Let’s begin with this one. Did you give up or were you captured against your will?”
“Did I give up or was I captured against my will? I was seized by those monsters out there. I was doing nothing but farming my land when they drove up on their armed vehicles and took me hostage. They dragged me away from my family. I’ve never even been a part of Al Hasib—and I never will. Al Hasib soldiers once stormed my house and took advantage of my wife and daughter right in front of me. You think I would ever have anything to do with them? Please believe me when I say this.”
Hawk smiled slightly. “I’m here to gather as much information as possible. You feel free to tell me everything that might help your case.” He glanced down at his notes. “Do you know the location of Karif Fazil’s hideout?”
“Do I know the location of Karif Fazil’s hideout? Now, I have a question for you. Who is Karif Fazil?”
“He is the leader of Al Hasib.”
“Then how would I know who he is?”
Hawk scribbled down a note and glanced at Alex. “This is standard protocol. We need to be able to have all these questions answered in order to make your case. Now, the next one. What would you do if you were free?”
“What would I do if you were to set me free? I would return home to my family and try to rebuild our lives. Who knows what has happened to my wife and children since I’ve been gone. They could all be dead for all I know. Or they could be slaves of Al Hasib soldiers.”
“Where did you live when you were captured?”
“Where did I live when I was captured? I lived in Iraq, near Basrah.”
Hawk looked at Alex. She nodded at him. He returned his gaze to Sharaf.
“I think we have everything we need,” Hawk said.
Sharaf scowled. “That’s all? But I have so much more to tell you.”
“This was all we needed to make our determination if we were going to take your case.” Hawk turned toward the door. “Guards.”
The door unlocked, and the trio of guards entered the room.
Sharaf stood but didn’t move. “I can tell you more, so much more.”
“This is enough,” Hawk said again.
“When will you tell me if you will take my case?” Sharaf asked, his eyes pleading.
“We will pass the word back through the commanding officer of this facility,” Hawk said. “Thank you for your time.”
“But—but I’m not through,” Sharaf said.
Alex waited until Sharaf left the room before she began splicing the conversation.
“Will you be able to make this work?” Hawk asked.
“I’ll do my part, but this really isn’t up to me,” she answered, refusing to look up. “Labiib Nasri is the one who is going to determine if this is a successful operation or not.”
Sharaf was just the means to an end. The real target was Nasri, who Hawk was counting on to pass a message on to Karif Fazil in order to flush him out into the open.
Patrick returned to the room and requested an update. “Did you get everything you needed?”
Hawk nodded. “We think so. But this all hinges on what happens tomorrow. Are you sure Nasri’s lawyer is coming?”
“He hasn’t missed a scheduled appointment yet,” Patrick said. “And we don’t make it easy on them if they cancel so close to the date.”
“And you’re certain he’s passing messages to Fazil using his lawyer?”
“I’m never certain of anything regarding these psychopaths we have locked up here, but I’m confident the message will reach Fazil. What he does with that information is where things get tricky. From what I’ve learned in briefings about Fazil, he can be pretty unpredictable.”
Hawk shrugged. “About some things, but he’s very predictable in others, such as how close he’ll get to the action.”
“That chicken shit has no problems sending out others with suicide vests strapped to them, but he wouldn’t dare slip arms through one if it was the only way he could accomplish his vision.”
“The bastard wants to be alive to see it,” Hawk said. “But he doesn’t understand that I’ll do anything to make sure he never sees even a sliver of his dream realized. And that means if I have to die, so be it.”
“We think these terrorists fight like they have nothing to lose, but the reality is they are never willing to go the distance. They fight like they have far much more to lose than the free world. But despite what it may look like at times, the free world is full of too many good people who aren’t going to lie down against some repressive regime. If history is a good indicator, Fazil and his ilk will fail soon as
