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Rapp nodded in the semidarkness, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard. According to Akhil, the man had escaped Semenov’s facility a year ago. Was it possible that the captagon could still be affecting him? Could the wound to his neck have starved his brain for oxygen?
“So, you haven’t taken any of their drugs since you escaped?”
“No.”
“You’re sure. You didn’t get out with any?”
“No,” he said, his expression suddenly turning hopeful. “Why? Did you? Do you have some?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t.”
Kadir’s expression darkened again. “I saw it. Because I’m a scientist. They took the drugs from us and made us beg. We resisted, but eventually, almost all knelt. They made us do horrible things to get them. Fight. Kill. Renounce God. Many thought it was just cruelty, but there was a method. I could see it. Then, finally, no matter what we did, they wouldn’t give us more. They told us they would if we did what they wanted. But it wasn’t to fight or turn our backs on Allah anymore. It was mental tests. Intelligence. Behavioral. Agility. Brain scans. Some people just disappeared. No one knew where they went, but I did. They were studying their brains. Dissecting them like lab animals. I know it. I’m a scientist.”
“Why? What were they looking for?”
“Don’t you see? They wanted to know if what they’d done to us was permanent. If we would ever be the same again after they stopped giving us their drugs.”
“But you weren’t,” Rapp said. “You weren’t the same.”
“No. None of us. And when the Russians were sure of that, they replaced us. They brought in new people from the prisons and camps. New test subjects. Then they took us to the desert and buried us there.” He stared at Rapp, the despair in him suddenly replaced by fury. “Is that why you’re here? To take me back? To study me?”
Rapp wasn’t expecting the naked man to suddenly charge, but it wasn’t much of a problem. As Kadir had said multiple times, he was a scientist, not a warrior. His attack was easily sidestepped, which in turn caused him to trip and land face-first on the warped planks that made up his floor. Before he could harm himself, Rapp pinned him with a knee to the back.
“I escaped, too, Kadir. Remember? I’m a friend of Akhil’s. I want the same thing you do. To make the Russians pay for what they’ve done. To all of us.”
The man struggled for a few moments, but then just went slack. When he did, Rapp eased the pressure a bit. “Allah brought you back to destroy His enemies. Isn’t that right?”
The Syrian didn’t move, his body feeling almost dead beneath Rapp’s knee. Finally, he spoke, but this time his voice contained an eerie calm.
“I dream sometimes, Mohammed. I dream about what I was. What it felt like. But it only lasts for a few seconds. Then I wake up and remember that I have nothing.”
Rapp helped the man back to his feet. “Then tell me what you know about the facility, Kadir. Interior layout, procedures, manpower. You were there for a long time and you’re an engineer, right? Tell me how that place works.”
Akhil ran ahead to retrieve his bike, while Rapp took a more leisurely route back. The brand-new satphone he dug from his pocket had been a gift from the elder of his newly adopted village. The fact that they had a small stash of them suggested they were still involved in the fight against the government. And the fact that they were willing to partwith one suggested that the fight wasn’t going so well. Again, desperation bred hope. But in this case maybe not so poorly placed.
Rapp turned it on, glancing occasionally at the sky as it started up. While the Russians had been forced to reduce their presence in Syria, they almost certainly still had a drone or two capable of homing in on phone signals. At this point, though, the situation had devolved badly enough that there weren’t a lot of options. Reluctantly, he dialed and put the phone to his ear.
“Is that you?” Kennedy said, picking up on the second ring.
“Yeah.”
“I’m happy to hear your voice.”
“I’ll bet. That exit plan wasn’t your finest moment.”
“Ben betrayed us and now he won’t take my calls. Apparently, the prime minister has promised to make amends, but I haven’t been included in those discussions. I’m not easy to surprise, but this has done it. I can’t imagine what would make a move like this worth the blowback.”
“They’re getting the Golan Heights.”
“Excuse me?”
“Syria’s going to sign over administration of it for the next fifty years.”
“I find that hard to believe. How solid is your information?”
“Take it to the bank. I’m guessing it’ll be announced in the next few weeks.”
“No offense, but you don’t seem that important. I assume you’re about to tell me what I’m missing?”
