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“Who are they?”
Leland grew increasingly nervous. The next piece of information had been passed along as a rumor. “I have not been able to verify this, sir, but I was told by someone on the flight line that the men are from the Office of Special Investigations.”
Garrison threw back his blanket and swung his feet onto the floor. After mumbling a few curses he looked up at his aide and said, “Office of Special Investigations?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How long have you known?”
“About forty minutes, sir.”
The general stood. “Air Force Office of Special Investigations arrives on my base, unannounced, in the middle of the night, and it takes you forty minutes to notify me.”
Leland stood ramrod straight and looked over the top of the general’s head. “Sir, you left specific orders not to be disturbed.”
“I left specific orders not to be bothered with all of the trivial bullshit that you think is important. When the Office of Special Investigations shows up in the middle of the night, it’s about as bad as it gets for a CO. It ranks just an ass hair under a plane crashing or attack on the base.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Where are they now?”
“I’m not sure, sir, but I think they might be at the Hilton.”
Garrison was in the midst of pulling on his flight suit. He stopped with both feet in and fixed a stare on the young captain. “The Hilton?”
“Yes, sir.”
The anger spread across the general’s face. “How in the hell did you ever graduate from the United States Air Force Academy?”
CHAPTER 7
NASH and Rapp had made it clear to General Dostum that, as much as they would like to hand al-Haq over to him, it was not going to happen. The general was reluctant at first, but when Rapp offered to deposit a sizable amount of cash in his bank in Geneva, the general agreed to the plan with enthusiasm. Their little charade had been rehearsed in advance, and was so far proceeding according to plan. Nash reasoned that once al-Haq agreed to talk, Dostum would be the perfect person to initiate the interrogation. The two men had fought alongside each other for eleven years. Al-Haq had committed his unforgivable sin during a pitched battle against the Taliban for the city of Mazar-i-Sharif. When it became obvious that the Taliban was going to carry the day, al-Haq crossed over with his men and switched his allegiance. Dostum was forced to retreat and eventually flee the country. Al-Haq would think long and hard before he lied to his former friend.
Nash and Rapp monitored the first few minutes of the session from a one-way viewing window. When it was obvious that Dostum wasn’t going to choke al-Haq to death, Nash relaxed a bit. His plan was to move onto the other prisoner while Dostum got things rolling. He turned and looked at Marcus Dumond, who was sitting behind the watch desk. Rapp had brought him from Langley. The thirty-one-year-old was the Clandestine Service’s resident genius when it came to security systems and computers.
“You getting all this?” Nash asked.
“Yep,” Dumond answered.
“And you have control of the cameras? Base security isn’t catching any of this?”
Rapp had made Dumond shave his Afro for the trip, and he couldn’t stop rubbing his newly polished head. He looked at Nash the same way he looked at anyone who dared question his ability to work magic.
“Base security is looking at a one-hour loop from every camera in this facility. I am recording the interrogations, both audio and video, onto this flash drive.” Dumond held up a small silver box no bigger than a checkbook.
“Good.” Nash turned back to Rapp and said, “Are you ready for a little fire and brimstone?”
“In a minute. Where do they keep the towels?”
“Storage closet over here.” Nash led Rapp down another hall and opened the door to a janitor’s closet where fresh orange coveralls, bedding, and towels for the prisoners were kept. Rapp grabbed a towel and wet it in the mop sink.
Already concerned over the cut above Haggani’s eye, Nash asked, “What do you have in mind?”
Rapp wrung out the towel and said, “You’ve seen his type before. The only thing you can do is beat on him until he heels.”
“Mitch, we have to be careful.”
“Don’t worry, no matter how pissed off I look, it’s all part of the act.”
