How is that even possible?
CHAPTER 73
SOME TIME HAS passed in the near darkness, and Liam says, “You awake over there?”
“I am,” Noa says.
“You still working on our escape?”
Noa says, “Somewhat. But due to ears and eyes on us at this moment, I’m keeping it secret.”
“Well, do pass it on when the time comes.”
Liam is feeling better but he’s thirsty, and he says, “Hope they haven’t dumped us here and forgotten about us. Could use a drink.”
“I could use something practical. Like a bucket.”
“Oh.”
“Thanks for saying ‘oh.’ Makes me feel a lot better.”
“What’s going on? Need a bathroom?”
Noa says, “I need something to eat. Sometimes I get a bout of hypoglycemia when I don’t eat and my blood sugar craters. Next up is a heavy bout of nausea, followed by vomiting.”
Liam thinks for a moment and says, “Remember SERE training? In Virginia?”
“Oh, yeah, one of my favorite memories when I was training for Operations.”
Liam says, “Yep. Survival, evasion, resistance, and escape. Dumped into the wilderness of Virginia, brought into a mock prisoner-of-war camp, starved, and slapped around by our coworkers in the Agency. One day blending into another. Cold, little water, crappy, cold food, lots of shouting interrogations. Sometimes you could hear your fellow classmates screaming in pain or fear.”
Noa says, “If you’re trying to buck me up, you’re failing.”
“No, there’s a point,” Liam says. “One day pretend commandos raided the joint, shot our captors with paintball rounds, and we were freed. We were brought out to the compound, the flag of the terrorists was hauled down, Old Glory was run up the pole, and we all sang ‘The Star Spangled Banner.’ Us and our pretend captors. Then there were hugs and handshakes and, hey, no hard feelings all around. You do that to the folks from the Agency who tortured you?”
“I don’t remember.”
Liam says, “I remember. I didn’t shake anybody’s hands. I had no feelings of love and forgiveness. I went up to one of the camp’s deputies—we called him Hardcase—and he was smiling at me and I punched him out and broke his nose.”
“And yet you made it.”
“Exigent circumstances,” Liam says. “I was under pressure, that kind of crap. But what I’m getting to is this: a price must be paid. These guys were doing an important job, prepping us in case we got captured, but some of them had too much fun, were too enthusiastic. Hardcase was one of them. I wanted him to hurt.”
Noa says, “Please tell me there’s a point.”
“Not to be vulgar, but if you can’t stand it anymore, let it go. Lean over and puke your guts out. It’ll be uncomfortable but you’ll be hitting back at those who captured us. You’ll make a smell, you’ll stain your surroundings, you’ll give them extra work to do. Not much but it’ll be something, Noa.”
“And you?” she asks, skepticism in her voice.
He’s about to say that he’ll come up with something, when lights overhead suddenly come on. Liam blinks his eyes hard and the room comes into focus. The room is carpeted beige and seems to be in a basement, with small casement windows before him and to the left. Other items are covered with white sheets, like this area is also a storeroom. At the right is a wooden door. The room is wood-paneled and Noa is about ten feet away, sitting in a leather chair fastened to the floor, strapped in with Velcro like Liam.
She blinks, too, and Liam says, “Hold on, it’s going to get interesting.”
Noa says, “Liam?”
“Yes?”
“Great working with you,” she says. “However this ends.”