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Seventy-Nine
Rapp walked across the terrace, and placed a hand on Akram's shoulder. "We need to talk."
They left McMahon to watch over al-Adel and walked far enough away so that they couldn't be heard. Rapp said, "I'm out of time. Has he said anything to you?"
"I've barely had a chance to get started. The only thing he's said is that he's an American and he wants his lawyer."
"Yeah he's like a parrot that way. Here's the deal. The word's already out that I have him, so we've got to get him talking quickly and as you said earlier, it would be best if he left here without any marks on him. What do you suggest?"
Akram thought about it for a brief moment. "The lemonade he's drinking has a stimulant in it. It will help heighten his sense of fear when you throw him in the pool."
Rapp looked at the lit pool and then back at Akram, a questioning expression on his face.
Akram explained, "Swimming isn't real popular in Saudi Arabia."
The thought had never occurred to Rapp.
"If by chance he does know how to swim, you'll just have to get in with him and force him under." Akram looked at his watch and said, "I'll be back in ten minutes to see how you're doing."
Akram turned and went back to the table. "Mr. al-Adel, I'm afraid we've run out of time. I'm going to ask you one question. If you refuse to answer, or lie to me, I'm going to have to turn you over to these two gentlemen. And I can promise you it will not be a pleasant experience." Akram had been thinking of this moment for sometime. It was important that he didn't reach too far right away, so he started with something simple. Something they already knew. "The bomb that you picked up in Charleston where were you to bring it? What city?"
Al-Adel shook his head defiantly. "I am an American citizen. I know my rights. I don't have to talk to any of you. I want to see my lawyer."
Akram gave him his most sympathetic expression. "I am very sorry for what is about to happen, but it must be done." He then turned to Rapp and whispered in his ear, "The key with this one will be to get him talking. Start out small. Get him talking about anything other than his lawyer, and then you can go for the gold." Akram walked away and went back in the house.
Rapp walked over to the prisoner and said, "Get up."
Al-Adel didn't move. Rapp reached down to grab his wrist, but al-Adel clamped down on the chair's armrests, refusing to budge.
"I'm not going to ask again. Get up."
Al-Adel remained st
ubborn.
Rapp delivered a lighting-fast blow to the man's solar plexus. Al-Adel doubled over instantaneously, releasing his grip on the chair. It would have been far more gratifying to break the man's nose, but this would have to do for now. Rapp grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked him from the chair. Al-Adel remained bent over, clutching his stomach, as Rapp dragged him along the terrace toward the steps that led to the pool.
"Do you like to swim, Ahmed?" Rapp marched him down four steps to the lower terrace and the pool. Al-Adel began to fight fiercely at the sight of the water.
"What's the matter?" asked Rapp. "You're not afraid of the water are you?"
Al-Adel leaned back at first, locking his knees in an attempt to stop his progress toward the water. Rapp yanked harder on the man's hair and stood him up. With only a few steps to go al-Adel let his legs go limp, and collapsed to the ground. McMahon showed up just in time and grabbed him by the feet. Rapp grabbed one hand and then the other, and after two swings they launched the terrorist into the middle of the deep end, orange prison jumpsuit and all.
Rapp watched him flounder as he walked around to the other side of the pool to grab the skimming pole. Al-Adel definitely did not know how to swim. He was thrashing about, flailing his arms in every direction, gasping for air and getting mostly water instead. Rapp took off his suit coat and grabbed the long aluminum pole. He swung the basket out over the pool and put it right in front of al-Adel's face. For a second he thought the idiot wouldn't realize it was there, and that he'd actually have to jump in the pool and save him. Fortunately, one of his flailing arms hit the basket and he grabbed on.
Rapp leaned back on the pole with his right hand and used his left hand like a fulcrum to lift al-Adel's head and shoulders out of the water. The terrorist hung onto the basket like rat clutching a piece of flotsam from a shipwreck.
"Ahmed," Rapp said in a loud voice. "If you say you want your lawyer even once, I'm going to rip this away from you and let you sink to the bottom. Alright?"
He didn't answer right away so Rapp shook the pole.
"Yes! Yes! I understand!"
"Now, Ahmed, listen to me very carefully. Where were you taking the bomb that you picked up in Charleston?"
Al-Adel clutched the basket at the end of the pole, his eyes shut tight, his entire body shaking with fear.
Rapp repeated the question even more forcefully and then started counting. When he got to five and al-Adel hadn't answered he released all tension on the pole and drove the basket and the clutching terrorist down under the surface of the water. Rapp held him under for only two seconds, but he knew it was an eternity to a man who didn't know how to swim. He leaned back hard on the pole, and a sputtering al-Adel popped to the surface. Rapp shouted the question again, but this time didn't even bother to wait for an answer. He saw al-Adel open his mouth wide, gasping for air, and drove him right back under.
