Was he in a hospital?
“You look confused, Trevor,” said the hated voice.
Grimes stood beside the hospital bed and nodded to the nurse. She left the room without saying a word.
“Together again, Trevor.”
“Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“That’s not really important,” said Grimes. “I’ll tell you this, though. I’m your judge and jury — the guy who can give you a future or take it away. It’s real y up to you.”
“Where am I?” asked Hodges, after taking a moment to mull over the SEAL’s words.
“Under this rock I’m sitting on.”
Hodges bit his lip. He couldn’t help cringing at the sound of Grimes’s voice. The pain he’d endured and the ease at which the man had applied it were engraved in his mind. He thought of Rudy and the operation in the ice.
“What do you want?” he asked final y.
“We want you to tell us where Rudolfo Suarez is holed up, Trevor. Simple as that. You lied to me last time. Tell me the truth and you live.”
“I’m just a business associate. What the hell makes you think I know where he is?”
“I know everything, Trevor. The bombs. The ice. All of it.”
“Sure you do, you prick.”
“Trevor,” said Grimes, “I haven’t got time to argue.
The guy Rudolfo Suarez shot on the Ross Ice Shelf survived. He’s identified all of you. So there’s no use lying to me. And we know you’re one of Rudolfo’s chief bodyguards. If this were some simple felony you could keep silent and get away with it. But it’s not as simple as that. Everyone in the world wants you dead for the shit you pul ed, Trevor, and so do I. You and your boss have no right to hold millions of people ransom.”
“Kiss my arse!”
Grimes knew that, despite the defiance, he was breaking through the Brit’s wall s. He walked to the window and stared down at the hospital parking lot, allowing the man to digest his words.
After he judged enough time had passed, he added: “One more chance, Trevor. If you volunteer to help you might actually see daylight again. If I have to pul out the info, you die. Either way, I get what I want.”
Hodges remained silent.
Grimes rang for the nurse. Moments later she entered the room with a tray. On it was a hypodermic.
“He’s ready now,” said the SEAL.
The nurse efficiently administered the hypo into the IV line that led to Trevor’s arm. Then she departed again.
“What did you just give me?” said Hodges. “What…?”
Grimes waited patiently for the drug to take effect. A moment later General Hayes entered the room. Grimes put a finger to his lips.
“Who’s that?” asked Hodges, turning his head as if to try to see through his bandages.
“Feeling a little… sleepy, Trevor?” said Grimes.
Hayes sat down in a wooden chair at the foot of the hospital bed. He’d been told by the nurse that the prisoner had been given the serum. It had been delivered to the hospital from the pharmacy aboard the Enterprise, and Hayes had managed to reassure the nurse that, while the drug was a secret concoction, it wouldn’t harm the patient.
Soon Hodges’s head was nodding. Grimes took that as a cue to begin his questioning. He reached out and gave the man’s head a push. Hodges gurgled a bit as his head swivelled uselessly on a limp neck.
Grimes lit a cigarette as he considered his interrogation.
He started by asking a few redundant questions — the Brit’s full name, his birthplace, his mother’s name…
“Trevor Albert Hodges, the second. Born in Brooklyn, New York, 1969. Moved to Brighton, UK, in ’82. My mom’s name was Mary…”
“Good, Trevor,” said Grimes pleasantly. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
“Uh huh,” said Hodges. “Sure.”
“Who did you kill, Trevor?” asked the SEAL, using a calm and even tone of voice.
“When?”
“Whenever,” said the SEAL.
Hodges was silent for a moment. Just when Grimes was beginning to suspect the drug wasn’t working, he began talking again.
“Not counting war shit like Nam?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I killed eight men and two women in Bolivia with a bomb. I killed a man in Texas with a baseball bat and a guy in Zurich.”
“How did you kill the guy in Zurich?”
“With a push.” said Hodges. “Off a roof.”
“Remember his name?”
“No. Don’t think I ever knew it.”
“Anyone else?”
“A chopper full of oil men. Them was with a bomb as well.”
“How many?”
“Ten or twelve…”
“A chopper off Tierra Del Fuego? Patagonia?” Grimes gave the general a meaningful look.
“Yep. Out at sea.”
“Interesting. Anyone else? Have you killed anyone else, Trevor?”
“Uh, yeah. A Moche mountain guide. Paco.”
“How did you kill Paco?”
“Pushed him from a van into a canyon.” Hodges smiled. “He didn’t half scream.”
“Did Rudolfo tell you to?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you shoot that guy on the ice shelf?”
“That asshole on the ice — wanted a radio? No. It was Rudy shot him.” Hodges was still smiling in fond reminiscence.
“Where is Rudy now?”
“At the Hacienda.” The smile slowly faded from his face.
“Where is this Hacienda, Trevor?”
“In the mountains. East of Santiago. I don’t remember the town.”
Hayes was stunned as he listened to Grimes extract the truth from Hodges. He could see the SEAL was fond of mental as well as physical combat. Grimes’s body leaned forward and his head was cocked to one side, like a predator sizing up its still living meal. In a way this all repulsed Hayes. Not that he would do anything to prevent it, and nor did he disagree with the strategic necessity of the interrogation. His revulsion was centred on the fact that Grimes was not just good at what he did: he enjoyed it.
“Watching you in action, Grimes, I sometimes feel like I’m watching a master criminal,” said Hayes. “This is too easy.”
Grimes stiffened. “Is that not a good thing?”
“You’re good at what you do, Kai. That’s all I’m saying.”
The captive’s head was up and he was listening, obviously not too far gone to know there was a new and unknown voice in the room. “Who’re you?” he asked, directing his bandaged face towards the general.
“Hi, Trevor,” said Hayes. “You can call me Tony, like the rest of my friends.”
“What do you do?”
“Kill people like you, Trevor. I go around hunting sneaky little pukes like you and your boss. That’s my job, Trevor. That’s what I do.”
Hodges sniggered. “You sound like a fucking general.”
Unflapped by the man’s serendipitous insight, Hayes smiled. “Then call me General Tony. I’d like that, Trevor.
Now tell me: how do we get to this Hacienda?”
“Follow the yellow brick road,” said Hodges with a huge grin.
Grimes stared at the man’s open mouth and noticed a few of Hodges’s back teeth were missing. He would have been happy to remove the rest of them for less information than the man was volunteering.
“Tell General Tony about the Hacienda, Trevor,” said Grimes. “How many people are in there with Rudy?”
“That would be telling,” said Hodges, still grinning like a fool.
Grimes was beginning to lose patience. He reached out and grabbed a piece of Hodges’s inner thigh between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed hard. The man nearly lifted off the bed, squealing with pain.
“This stuff is no free ride, Trevor. Do you hear me?”
Hodges assumed the expression of a small child who’d just been spanked. He nodded almost contritely. “I hear you.”