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“Don’t lie to me.”
“Engaged.”
Good leverage, Rapp thought to himself. He unzipped the thigh pocket on his coveralls, and pulled out the stack of Polaroids. He flipped through until he found the one he was looking for. He held the stack in front of Tahmineh’s face and said, “Careful on this one. Name and rank, just like it says in the Geneva Convention. Which also says you’re supposed to be in uniform, but we’ll talk about that later.”
The young Iranian looked at the photo and hesitated.
“Your fiancée,” Rapp started, “will never marry you if the goods are damaged.” Rapp could tell the speed had taken full effect. Tahmineh’s knees were shaking and his eyes were darting around the room. “Look at me!” Rapp screamed. “Is she pretty?”
“Who?” the man asked genuinely confused.
“Your fiancée.”
“Yes.”
Rapp stuck the tip of the knife up against the man’s crotch. “Then you’re screwed. No way in hell a good-looking Persian woman is going to marry a guy without a dick. Now quit fucking around, and tell me who this is and remember I might already know his name. This could be a test and if you fail, off comes the first nut.”
“Captain Rashid Dadarshi…my commanding officer.”
Captain was the equivalent of a captain in the U.S. Army. “When were you told who you would be kidnapping?”
Tahmineh looked nervous. “I was never told.”
“Never?” Rapp said forcefully.
“Never. We were only told it was an American, and that we were not to harm her.”
Rapp looked at him skeptically even though he had a suspicion the man was telling the truth.
“We were only told yesterday of the plan.”
“Who told you?”
“Captain Dadarshi, of course.”
“No one else?”
Tahmineh shook his head.
“Then who the hell is this?” Rapp shuffled through the photos and held up the one of the man who had been dressed as a police officer.
Tahmineh took one look at the photo and his face twisted into a disgusted scowl. “That is a Palestinian dog. He is not part of my unit.”
“Name?” Rapp barked.
“Ali Abbas,” the man offered willingly.
“If he isn’t Quds Force, then who is he with?”
“Hezbollah.”
“Hezbollah,” Rapp repeated as he stood. “What the fuck is Hezbollah doing in Mosul?”
“I do not know. I am only a corporal.”
Rapp had a good sense that the man was telling him the truth, but he needed to keep him on the edge for a bit longer. He stuck his knife under the Iranian’s chin and lifted it until he was looking straight into his eyes. “I’m going to go check your story, and if I find out you lied to me about a single thing, I’ll be back for your nuts.”
50
