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“I’m sure you do, but I think I can explain.” Mukhtar glanced at the guard sitting in the corner and in Arabic asked him if he could have a moment alone with the prisoner. The lumbering man slowly got off his chair and left the room.
“The police force here in Mosul is extremely corrupt. They were not told that you were in that convoy.”
Kennedy knew they had not told the police for that very reason. “Then who did they think was in the convoy?”
“They are not telling me that. All they’ve said is that it was someone who they would be able to ransom for a lot of money.”
“Have you contacted my government?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
Mukhtar glanced nervously over his shoulder and then in a much quieter voice said, “Some of them want to kill you, some of them want to negotiate with your government, and some of them would like to sell you to another government.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“A local group, but very powerful. More like your Mafia than one of our militias.”
“Sunni?” Kennedy asked.
Mukhtar shrugged off the question. “I cannot say, but I wanted you to know I am working on your release…and that I will do everything I can to make sure you remain unharmed.”
“Thank you.”
Mukhtar stood. “Now I must go, but first if you will allow me I need to take your photo.”
Kennedy looked hesitant.
“It is for your own good. So I can prove that you are alive.”
That sounded like a good idea to Kennedy. She clutched the blanket around her shoulders and sat up as straight as her broken rib would allow her.
Mukhtar snapped her photo with a digital camera and said, “I will be back to check on you in a bit. Is there anything I can get for you?”
There were a lot of things she would have liked, but she decided to keep it brief. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I will see if I can arrange that. Anything else?”
“Some clothes would be nice.”
“Of course. I will see what I can do.” As Mukhtar left the room he gave Kennedy one more comforting smile and then closed the door behind him. He waved for the guards to follow him down the hallway.
When they were far enough away Mukhtar lowered his voice and in Farsi said, “Wait five minutes and then bring her a pot to go to the bathroom in. I want you to watch her do it. If she gets shy, rip her panties off, but do not rape her. At least not yet. When she is done you can slap her around a bit, but do not hit her face. Then put the hood back on her. Do you understand?”
Both men smiled and nodded.
“Good. I will be back in one hour.”
48
Rapp stood behind Marcus Dumond and watched the younger man’s fingers fly over the computer keyboard with the skill of a concert pianist. Dumond was by far the most accomplished hacker at Langley, and perhaps in all the U.S. government. The MIT graduate had scanned the photos Rapp had taken and was now running a search through multiple databases to see if he could come up with a match.
“How long will it take?” Rapp asked as he zipped up the khaki flight suit Stilwell had given him.
“It could take five minutes. It could take five hours. That’s even if we have them in one of the databases.”
“You talked to NSA?”
