Splinter Cell

to be charged with the murder of the Arbil police officers and our soldiers. We’ll start serious interrogation this afternoon. In the meantime, tell this guy that he’s in some serious shit.”

* * *

Sarah had slept for nearly sixteen hours. When she awoke she was understandably confused and disoriented. She had no idea where she was. She sat up too quickly, bringing on a wave of nausea. A hot flash immediately surged through her body and she broke out into a sweat. Sarah knew she was about to be sick and started to panic. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the door to the bathroom and bolted for it. She made it to the toilet just in time.

When she was done, Sarah sat on the dirty floor beside the toilet for a few moments before attempting to stand.

Where the hell was she? What was this place? And more important, where was Eli? And Rivka?

She stood slowly, using the toilet seat as leverage. A stained, cracked mirror over the sink reflected a pale, frightened girl of twenty. She looked terrible.

A washcloth and towel sat on the edge of the sink. She turned on the cold water and let it run. At least it wasn’t brown, like in Eli’s apartment, so she splashed her face and let the water run down her neck. It felt good. She realized she was terribly thirsty, but she didn’t want to drink the tap water.

She carefully went back into the other room and saw nothing in there but the cot she had slept on and her purse on the floor next to it. She went to the door and turned the knob, only to find it locked.

“Hello?” she called. “Eli?” It was eerily quiet on the other side of the door. “Rivka? Somebody?” She felt the panic build again as she knocked loudly.

When she heard footsteps on the other side, Sarah backed away, ready to let Eli have it.

The man who unlocked the door and peeked inside was not Eli. He had a cold, cruel look about him, and he grinned lecherously at her.

“Good morning, Princess,” he said. “You slept a long time. How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Where am I?” She was suddenly so frightened and confused that she felt light-headed again. She staggered and her knees buckled. The man rushed into the room to catch her and help her to the cot.

“Whoa, miss, sit down. There, there.”

She reclined on the pillow and then asked again, more softly, “Who are you?”

“My name is Vlad. I think you need some more sleep.”

“Where am I?”

“Just sleep,” he said and turned to walk out.

“Wait!”

But he was out the door and she heard it lock.

What the hell was going on? Who was he? Where were her friends?

She heard an airplane overhead. Was she near an airport? Come to think of it, she had dreamed of airplanes, or so she thought. She remembered an unpleasant state of consciousness that she wasn’t sure was real or part of her sleep. She thought she might have been carried someplace by men who gripped her ankles and wrists too tightly. Even now, as she touched her arms, they felt bruised. She also recalled a feverish tossing and turning, which may or may not have occurred there on the cot, and hearing the occasional roar of overhead planes.

Surely Eli would show up soon and explain what was going on. Right now she felt too dazed and confused to care very much. Perhaps she should try to sleep more. If this was what a hangover felt like, she never wanted to take another drink.

She admonished herself that she hadn’t been the most model twenty-year-old girl while on her trip to Israel. She had had sex several times, had drunk alcohol, had stayed at a boy’s house overnight… what would her father think?

Her father! She could call him! There was that special number she could dial on her cell phone and send a message to him. She didn’t know where he was, but he was sure to get it. Sarah reached for her purse on the floor and frantically looked inside it for her phone.

It wasn’t there, of course. Nor was her address book. Damn, she thought. What now?

A key rattled in the lock again. This time the door opened to reveal Eli.

“Eli! My God, what the… where are we?”

He closed the door behind him, set a bottle of water on the floor, and stood in front of her. The expression on his face disturbed her.

“What’s wrong? Eli? What is this place?”

“Sarah, as long as you cooperate they won’t hurt you,” he said.

She wasn’t sure that she’d heard him correctly. “What? Where am I? Where’s Rivka?”

“Shut up,” he spat. “Listen to me. You’re a hostage. You’re all alone. You can’t escape, so don’t try. Don’t try to scream for help, because no one will hear you. We’re miles and miles from anyone.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What? Eli?”

“I’m sorry, Sarah. That’s just the way it is.”

“Are you… who was that guy who came in? He said his name was Vlad.”

“You’re not listening to me, Sarah,” Eli said. “You are a fucking hostage!”

She gasped. He really meant it. This wasn’t a joke. The look on his face was something she had never seen before. This wasn’t the Eli she knew. This wasn’t the funny, tender Eli who had once made love to her. This was someone who scared her.

“What’s going on, Eli? Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“We want to know where your father is.”

The enormity of what he said nearly made her faint. She took a deep breath and said, “So that’s what this is about. My father.” She shook her head and turned from him.

“Tell us where he is and you’ll be all right. If you won’t, then… I can’t be responsible for what Vlad and Yuri will do to you.”

“Vlad and Yuri? What about what you’ve already done to me, Eli! Fuck you, Eli!”

Eli stood there unfazed. There was a knock on the door and Eli said, “Come in.”

It was Noel.

“Noel!” Sarah said. “What the hell is going on? Where’s Rivka?”

Noel looked at Eli, who shook his head.

“Noel? Where’s Rivka?” Sarah asked again.

Noel shrugged at her. He looked at Eli again and then walked out of the room.

My God! she thought. Something bad had happened to her friend. She knew it. She felt it in her gut.

Eli turned to follow Noel and said to her, “Your father is an American government Splinter Cell, and you’re going to help us find him. We have your cell phone and your address book. After we finish examining these items, if we haven’t found the means to contact him, then we will come back to you. If you know how to get in touch with him, then you had better tell us. I wouldn’t want to see you… hurt.”

She stared at the young man she thought would someday be her fiance.

“Think about it,” he said. “I’ll be back in a while. There’s some water for you. I’ll bring you some food, too. But this isn’t a hotel, Sarah, so don’t expect room service whenever you want it.”

He opened the door and left. The sound of the door slamming and locking reverberated in the small room.

Her private cell.

* * *

General Prokofiev couldn’t make the meeting. He had business in Moscow and would be returning with an important piece of equipment for exclusive use by the Shop. As one of the top officers in the Russian military, Prokofiev had access and clearance to an unbelievable amount of material. If something was lost or diverted, the buck stopped with him — and he was certainly not going to tell his superiors about it. It was one method by which the Shop obtained much of their product.