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“Yes!” Aabad nodded enthusiastically.
“So between then and the time we ran into you, you and your little four-man terrorist cell managed to place three separate car bombs around the city, get back to the mosque, and make your break for…” It occurred to Rapp that he hadn’t bothered to ask one obvious question. “Where in the hell were you headed, Aabad?”
“The airport.”
“Which one?”
“Baltimore.”
“Ticket already purchased?”
“Yes.”
Nash snapped his f
ingers and jerked his head toward the far corner.
The two walked over and Nash whispered to Rapp, “He’s full of shit. Twenty minutes ago Treasury called. They took a look at their 15th Street cameras. They have the whole thing on tape. A FedEx van pulled up in front of Bobby Van’s at 12:29. The driver jumped out and started running north with a package in his hand. Twenty-six seconds later the van exploded. You had eyes on all four of these guys. They were a mile away at the mosque. Can’t be in two places at once. How much do you want to bet the other two blasts went down the same way, which means there were at least three more guys involved…probably more than that.”
Rapp looked back over his shoulder at Aabad, who was nervously watching them. “All right,” Rapp said, “I’m done fucking around.” He walked back over to the prisoner and said, “Aabad, you know what I think…that gerbil in your underdeveloped brain? I don’t think he can run fast enough on that wheel to keep up with all your lies.”
It was obvious by the confused look on Aabad’s face that he hadn’t followed a word that Rapp had said.
“What he’s saying,” Nash said, moving in to translate, “is that you’re too fucking stupid to run an operation like this, and on top of all of that, you definitely aren’t smart enough to keep all your lies straight.”
“I am not lying!” Aabad screamed.
“Give me the other names,” Rapp said in a no-nonsense tone.
“I have given you all the names.”
“All right,” Rapp said without missing a beat, “here is how this is going to go down. I’m going to dislocate your right shoulder. I already told you,” Rapp said as he registered the look of horror on Aabad’s face, “it was not dislocated. Just a minor separation, which is proof, that in addition to being stupid, you’re also a puss.”
“I have not lied,” he whimpered.
“Shut up and listen to me.”
Before Rapp could finish, there was a knock on the door. Nash walked over and opened it a crack. Harris was looking back at him, and without wasting a second, he said, “They’re downstairs in the lobby,” and then walked away.
Nash walked and whispered the news in Rapp’s ear. Rapp turned his attention back to Aabad. “I’ve dislocated my shoulder before, and I can honestly say it’s one of the most painful things I’ve ever gone through. There’s a good chance you will vomit or pass out or both, in which case I’d gladly watch you choke on it and die right here. So!” Rapp yelled as he clapped his hands together. “Last chance!”
“I have told you everything,” Aabad pleaded.
“Wrong answer.” Rapp shoved Aabad’s face down onto the table and grabbed his cuffed wrists. With both elbows locked, Rapp torqued the wrists up and toward Aabad’s head until there was a loud pop.
Aabad howled in pain. So loud in fact, that Nash walked over to the door and leaned against it in case someone tried to come in.
Rapp bent to within inches of Aabad’s face and said, “I can put it back into the socket in two seconds. All you have to do is tell who the real brains was behind this operation.”
Aabad was now crying in agony.
“I can make it go away. Tell me right now.” Rapp waited a second then lifted the arms again.”
Aabad somehow managed to scream even louder this time.
“I know about the FedEx vans. You lied to me!” Rapp screamed.
Aabad had snot flowing out of his nose and tears streaming down his face. He mumbled something, but it came out completely unintelligible.
