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Leila thought fast. Somebody on the inside had been feeding him information. It couldn’t have been Elijah, otherwise they would have never hauled him out of the room like they had. So did this guy know about the operation? Know about the diamonds?

“Leila, answer me!” Again, he pounded on the desk.

“I know Elijah was supposed to be discussing how to free some prisoners that are currently being held by al-Assad. I swear, that’s all I know.”

She bit her lip, praying he would believe her.

He grabbed her by her hair and twisted.

“I don’t believe you. I know he was doing something more than negotiating. I think there was some kind of payment involved. I want to know what it was, and where it is.”

She cried out when he pulled her—and the chair up—by her hair. Tears formed.

“Tell me,” he whispered. “Just take a moment to catch your breath, and tell me.”

Nothing made sense. If this guy was getting info from a spy at Langley, wouldn’t he know about the CIA operative here in Syria who was holding onto the diamonds?

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me!”

Leila swore she could feel her scalp beginning to bleed.

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me.”

“If I tell you, you’ll kill me,” she gasped.

He let go, and she crashed to the floor.

Air gusted in and out of her chest. Her head dropped forward and this time she couldn’t stop the tears.

“Was that really so hard? Who were the prisoners? Who was Elijah going to pay? What was the payment? Where is it?”

“Three reporters and an aid worker,” Leila whispered.

The man rattled off the four names, and Leila nodded.

“Who in al-Assad’s government was going to do the trade?”

She knew that if she told him, she was signing the man’s death warrant. Or maybe this terrorist would turn him into his own spy.

She kept her mouth shut. He slapped her again, this time on the other cheek. Again, she and the chair went down. She screamed as her previously wounded cheek scraped against the tiled floor.

“You will tell me.”

His voice came from a long way away. Leila felt fuzzy.

“What is his name?”

She felt his hand grab the rope and pull her up. This time, when her head flopped forward and the searing pain hit her head and neck, she lost focus and…nothing.

* * *

“He knows nothing,” Jase said, disgustedly.

“Useless,” Linc agreed as he stared down at the crying man. “Damn, you’re scary, Jase. I don’t know what the hell you said, but he actually pissed his pants.”