“He only seemed to care about the box.”
“Tailor looked thoughtful. “Shit. We need to tell Hunter.”
“You’re going to tell him about the money?” Hudson asked, concern in his voice.
“No. Especially not this dude’s cash,” Tailor said. “We found that box and a bunch of money in Adar’s safe. We’ll just tell Hunter about the box and shut up about the rest.”
“Damn.” Hudson whistled. “You guys find a lot of money laying around, don’t you?”
A moment later, Hal, the medic, came rushing into the room, carrying his jump bag. Tailor gave everyone the eye so there would be no more talk about the money. “Everybody get back,” Hal said. “Let me see him. Sit down on the bed, Valentine. Goddamn, you got yourself all cut to shit, didn’t you?” He looked me over, illuminating my wounds with a small flashlight. “Yeah, that one on the cheek is going to leave a nasty scar. Not too deep, though. Let me see your arm. Wow, yeah, you’re going to need stitches on this.” I winced as he poked and prodded the bleeding gash. “Quit being a little girl,” Hal chided. “Holy shit, you’re lucky. Any deeper and this would’ve severed your radial artery.”
“Just patch me up, Doc. Was anybody hurt in that explosion?”
“I don’t think so,” Hudson said. “I was outside when the truck blew. Nobody was nearby. Did that guy have something to do with that?”
“I think so. Hal, please hurry. I need to talk to Hunter right away.”
“Just hold still,” Hal said. “This is going to hurt.”
He wasn’t kidding. Hal expertly stitched up the long gash on my arm without bothering with anesthetic. He then bandaged my face and stuck cotton balls in my nose to stop the trickle of blood. Lorenzo had elbowed me pretty hard, but my nose wasn’t broken.
I turned to Sarah as Hal applied the last of my bandages. “Go get your body armor on and tell Hunter I’ll be there in a minute. Tell him that the guy we caught is the same shooter from Hasa Market. They call him Lorenzo. Bring the puzzle box to him, too. We have a major security breach here. Somehow this guy was able to track us back to the fort. If he found us, Al Sabah’s forces might have, too.”
“Okay,” Sarah said. She picked up Adar’s puzzle box and turned to leave the room. She paused by the door and looked back at me.
“I’ll be right there,” I said. “Don’t worry.” Sarah flashed me a worried smile and was out the door.
It wasn’t until after she’d left that I remembered that the key Sarah was wearing on her necklace had been inside that box.
LORENZO
I woke up in terrible pain. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Time for you to start talking,” a voice said. The screeching banshee death wail in my right ear had calmed down enough that I could hear, but I had the worst headache ever. Waves of throbbing suffering cascaded through my skull with each heartbeat. Every bit of me hurt.
There was a blinding light aimed at my face. The light moved away, and I blinked in confusion. It had been a flashlight. “All yours, sir,” a young man said. “He’ll live as long as you want him to.”
“Thank you. That will be all, Hal,” said the man with an eye patch. He was probably sixty but looked tough for his age. The medic picked up his bag and left us. We were in an old room. It smelled of mildew and decay. The walls were made of rough, crumbling brick, and down the center of the room was a line of rusty iron bars cemented into the floor and ceiling. A jail? On the other side of those bars were two other men, both armed and watching. I was sitting on the floor, back to the damp wall. When I tried to move, a chain clanked. My left arm had been handcuffed to a bar.
The old man was sitting on a folding chair, just out of reach. “This was the original brig for Fort Saradia. Appropriate right now, don’t you think?” He took his time lighting a fat cigar, finally blowing a pungent cloud of smoke in my direction.
I took stock of the situation. I couldn’t have been out long. My vest was gone. My shirt had been torn open, and there was a spreading black and purple blotch over most of my chest and stomach. Something was packed into my ear, and the blood that coated my neck and chest was still slick. I tugged on the cuff. The bar was rusty, but solid.
He got tired of waiting for me to answer. “Why is this important?” he asked, cigar in one hand, Adar’s box in the other. “It’s an Arabian puzzle. Very old from the looks of it.”
“I’m into antiques.” It hurt to talk. My face was too swollen. I bet I looked like a mess.
The old man smiled, only there was nothing friendly about it at all. This dude was dangerous. “I don’t think you realize the world of shit you’ve gotten yourself into, boy, or maybe you do. Maybe you know exactly who you’re messing with.”
I recognized the voice now. I’d heard him on the radio. “So, Big Boss . . . How’s Nightcrawler?” I chuckled. “Did I manage to take his arm off? You Dead Six guys get good medical, right?”
Big Boss scowled. That had gotten his attention. “Mr. Valentine will be just fine. You, I’m not so sure about.” He didn’t seem concerned to drop actual names, which meant he wanted me to know I was dead, no matter what. The only question was how much it was going to hurt first. “I’ll ask you, just one time, who you are and who you work for. You will answer me truthfully, or I’m going to make you suffer in ways you can’t even imagine.”
That’s where he was wrong. I had one hell of an imagination. And I just had to keep these people occupied until whatever apocalyptic thing the Fat Man had been talking about happened at midnight. “I’m not telling you shit. I’ll only talk to Gordon. I don’t have time for his flunkies.”
Big Boss nodded. “I see. Either you know what you’re talking about, or you’re full of shit and I know where that missing radio wound up. Speaking of radios, who were you talking to on yours?” Big Boss pulled my radio out of his shirt pocket. “I tried to be polite, but someone just started calling me names in what I believe was Portuguese. They’re not answering now, for some reason.”
“They’re picky like that.”
Big Boss paused to address the two men who had been watching. “Conrad, Walker, come here for a minute. And remove your sidearms. I’m afraid this one’s tricky.” The two men drew their pistols and placed them on a table, then came through the bars. The gate had probably been missing for years.
One was a taller dude, and he accidentally bumped his head on the only light bulb, sending it swinging wildly back and forth, casting crazy shadows in the old brig. The other was about my size, with sunglasses perched on his head, who looked like he knew his way around the intricacies of hurting people. They grabbed on and smashed me into the wall.
“To warm up, I want you to take our friend here and break every one of his fingers.” Big Boss paused as the door opened.
A woman entered. Young, auburn hair tied back, and rather cute, she was totally out of place in this dismal setting. She seemed a little ruffled when she saw the two goons holding me. It was pretty obvious what was about to happen. “Colonel, we’ve sighted the boat. It’ll be at the dock in a few minutes.”
Big Boss glanced at his watch. “They’re early. Spread the word and start loading. I’m on my way down.”
The two thugs were dragging me to my feet. I didn’t resist and the handcuff scratched its way up the bar until I was standing. The girl’s voice sounded familiar too. It was worth a shot. “Hey, Sarah.” She twitched in surprise. Yep, that was her. “Sorry about cutting up your boyfriend.”
“You bastard,” she spat. “I’ll—” Then her eyes flashed as she changed her mind. She crossed quickly into the cell, apparently surprising the men holding me. She cupped her hand and smacked me upside the head, right across my bandaged ear.