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“I’d feel better if I could take him out back and shoot him. It looks like neither of us will get our wish today.”
The doctor gathered up her tools in a black leather bag and left the room. The purplecoats frowned when Connell asked them to do the same.
Once they were alone, Lila called up the first file on her tablet and sat on Dr. McCrae’s rolling stool. Dixon pulled another from the near the wall and sat beside her. He opened a laptop, opening a transcription program that would transcribe every word the Italian said. Dixon’s fingers hovered over the keys, ready to make corrections if needed.
Lila hoped he wouldn’t need to do much. She’d asked for a translator with no accent for that very reason.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Anastasio.”
“Okay, Anastasio. You’re going to take an English test. I’m going to hold up a tablet with some Italian text, and you’re going to tell me what it means in English. Do you understand the task?”
“Yes. I’m good at translation.” Anastasio’s gaze traveled southward. “You have nice breasts. Can I touch them?”
“No.” Lila peeked back at Dixon. She held up her tablet after his slight nod. “This sentence says something about nursing a snake. Is that code?”
The merc squinted at the screen. “No.”
“Translate it.”
“It wouldn’t make sense to you. Can I grab your ass, just for—”
“I’m going to grab my tranq gun if you don’t shut up about my body,” Lila grunted. “Why?”
“Because you’re a bitch?”
“I meant the sentence. Why wouldn’t it make sense to me?”
“Because you don’t speak Italian. It’s an idiom.”
“Explain it, then.”
“The sentence means that someone has begun to trust the writer. The writer is saying they will betray them in the end.”
Lila eyed Connell. “This is the first message sent. It was dated over two years ago.”
“Someone’s been inside our compound for two years?”
“At least.”
“Do you know how much information could have been sent in that time? I thought you were crazy when you went back more than six months.”
“These people are proof of how much was passed along.” Lila turned back to the prisoner. “What about this message?”
She brought up the second file.
The prisoner squinted once more. “Not stepping longer than your leg… The writer is saying that he isn’t going to bite off more than he can chew. That’s how you say it, yes?”
“He?”
“He? She? Who cares?” The prisoner shrugged. His chains rattled.
“He mentions entering a citadel. What does that mean?”
“He’s settled in somewhere and isn’t prepared to do anything more for a while. He’s boasting that he’s inside.”
Lila flipped to the next message. “This one is pure nonsense. It says something about boiling in a pot. I don’t even know what the rest means.”
