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Without saying another word, Rapp left and went to the last cell, where he did the exact same thing. He then found Stilwell and told him he wanted only audio recordings of the interrogations. Rapp checked the time and then continued back to the first cell. He grabbed an extra chair and brought it in with him. He positioned the chair four feet from the prisoner and sat. On the floor almost exactly between them was the severed penis. Rapp didn’t speak at first. He looked at the severed organ, up at the man across from him, and then back.
The prisoner was sweating. His knees were beginning to tremble, and his eyes were darting all around the small cell. He took in everything except the hunk of flesh at his feet. Rapp studied him. He tried to lock eyes, but the prisoner wouldn’t commit. The speed he had been given would only heighten his anxiety.
“I’m a soldier,” the prisoner blurted out in a panicked voice. “I shouldn’t be treated like this.”
Rapp smiled. “A soldier. That’s interesting. Most of the soldiers I know wear uniforms.”
The man closed his mouth tightly and shut his eyes.
“That body part there,” Rapp pointed to the organ on the floor, “belongs to one of your comrades. I told him not to lie to me. I told him I had plenty of ways to verify what he was saying. He thought he was smarter than me. Do you think you’re smarter than me?”
“No.”
“Good…then this should go much smoother. Let’s start with your name, and look me in the eye when you answer.” Rapp cocked his head slightly to the left and studied the man’s face.
“Corporal Nouri Tahmineh.”
“Where were you born?”
The man hesitated.
“This is the speed round, buddy. Rapid-fire. You don’t have to think about these. Just answer. I got five guys in another room that can hack into any computer system in the world. I’ve got another room full of people back in Washington working the phones. We’ve got spies in every frickin’ government in the region. Right now they’re calling around about you and if what you say is true, and you’re a soldier, we’ll find your military records. If the photo doesn’t match the name, or we can’t find you, I’m going to cut off your left nut just like I told you I would. Your friend there,” Rapp pointed to the object on the floor. “He gave me the wrong name, the wrong town, and a bullshit date of birth. He made it real easy for me. I just cut everything off in one fell swoop. You probably heard him screaming like the peckerless little pussy that he now is.”
Rapp pulled out his knife and extended the blade. “Here’s how dumb the guy is. After all that…he’s in so much goddamn pain he ends up telling me his name anyway. The point is, you’re going to end up telling me everything, so you might as well hold on to your manhood.” Rapp pointed the tip of the knife at the man’s crotch. “Now, are you ready for the speed round?”
The prisoner nodded quickly.
“Name?” Rapp fired the question like a drill sergeant.
“Corporal Nouri Tahmineh.”
“Place of birth?”
“Qom.”
The only city Rapp knew of by that name was approximately 100 miles southwest of Tehran. “Date of birth?”
“Fourteenth of January, nineteen-eighty-two.”
“You said you’re a soldier. What unit?”
“Twenty-Third Special Forces Division. Jerusalem Force.”
Rapp kept his emotions in check. The man sitting before him was not some insurgent volunteer. He was an Iranian soldier. A member of their elite Quds Force or, as some of the more anti-Semitic men referred to it, Jerusalem Force. His involvement in the kidnapping of Kennedy caused Rapp to see things in an entirely different light.
“How long have you been in Iraq?” Rapp asked while he tried to think of the implications of direct Iranian involvement.
“Almost two months.”
“All of it in Mosul?”
“Mostly…and the surrounding area.”
Rapp wondered if Minister Ashani had ordered this. Up until now, he had thought the man very reasonable. Now he wondered if the si
ncerity he had shown Kennedy was all an act. “You married?”
The man looked away nervously and hesitated.
