Robert Ferrigno - The wake-up

"Maybe you can get some kind of therapy."

"I did a seminar for a foreign security agency several years ago." The Engineer tugged at his socks, stood up. "I tried to impress upon them that torture, physical torture, as a means of extracting information is very inefficient. When the information is needed fast, it's even more so. By contrast, my methods never fail. Never, Frank, not once. The head of security listened, but I'm not sure he truly understood."

Thorpe nodded. He had no idea what Claire's teaching schedule was.

"Imagine this scenario. I want your cooperation, but you resist. Now, I can have Gregor start snapping your fingers and toes, but there's a problem with that. At a certain point, when the pain becomes too severe, you pass out." The Engineer paced back and forth. "So all you have to do is tough it out, knowing if I go too far, you're unconscious. Even if you do talk, how can I be sure you're telling me the truth?"

"Why don't you try a nice dinner and a movie?" Thorpe heard the front gate squeak.

The Engineer peeked through the curtains. "Oh goody, Frank. It's your little fuck toy."

Thorpe jumped up, but Gregor punched him in the solar plexus, dropped him hard. Thorpe lay on the floor, twitching. He heard Claire's footsteps on the sidewalk, heard her ring the bell. Heard her call his name.

The Engineer got down on the floor next to Thorpe. "Should I get that?"

"No," Thorpe gasped.

"Lazurus looked at the photos for a long time, then he took the blowtorch and burned them up," whispered the Engineer, mimicking the voice he had used in the park when Thorpe tried to squeeze him. "First he burned the photographs… then… then, he burned the broker." He smiled at Thorpe. "It's the catch in the voice that I was most proud of. That's what made you a believer. Do you remember what you said to me then?"

Claire knocked harder.

"You said, 'That's a sad story, and when this is over, we'll sit down with some herb tea and have a good cry.' That's what you told me."

"Damn it, Frank, open the door," said Claire. "I know you're in there. It's important."

The Engineer's lips brushed Thorpe's ear. "Why don't we invite her in to have some herb tea with us? It's rude not to, don't you think?"

"I'll take you… to the locker."

"Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"Yes." Thorpe listened to Claire's retreating footsteps.

"If you're not telling the truth, we're going to come back for her," said the Engineer, using his own voice again. "I'll make you watch the whole thing. The whole thing, every minute of it. You wouldn't believe what I'm capable of when I put my heart and soul into it, Frank."

Thorpe needed help to get to his feet.

"I missed driving." The Engineer sat behind the wheel of the big Buick sedan. "The worst part of the role I played with Lazurus was having to be chauffeured around all the time. Gregor has his uses, but he's not very good company."

Gregor grunted from the backseat.

Thorpe stared straight ahead, the passenger seat slightly sprung from regularly supporting Gregor's weight. He coughed, tried not to struggle against the leather belt around his neck, the belt binding him to the steel rails of the Buick's headrest, giving him not more than two or three inches of slack. He hooked a finger into the leather, tugged without effect. "You could loosen this thing."

"Yes, I could," said the Engineer.

Thorpe carefully turned his head as they stopped for a red light. He could see a car in the next lane, a Plymouth van with a woman talking on a cell phone, too busy to notice him. It probably wouldn't have mattered if she had, since the belt looked like a collar. He was just glad they had slipped out of his apartment without being spotted by Claire. If she had come out to greet him, she would have been in the back with Gregor.

"How much farther, Frank?" asked the Engineer.

Thorpe's mouth was dry.

Gregor jerked on the belt. "Speak, horsey."

Thorpe coughed, tore at the belt with both hands. "A few more miles."

"Gregor is a man of simple pleasures," said the Engineer. "Most of them cruel."

Thorpe wheezed.

"Comfortable?" asked the Engineer.

Gregor jerked at the belt again.

Thorpe gasped, arms flailing.

"Sit back and enjoy the ride, Gregor," said the Engineer. "Frank's not going anywhere."

The backseat upholstery groaned as Gregor settled in.

"You could learn something from this experience," said the Engineer, expansive, one hand on the wheel as he drove. "All the hard work you put in when you thought I was working for Lazurus, all the time you and Kimberly spent, just to make me cooperate willingly." He shook his head. "Yet, here we are, after just a few minutes of quiet conversation, and all you want to do is please me. You do want to please me, don't you?" He waited in vain for an answer. "There's no reason we both can't come away from this richer for the experience." He glanced at Thorpe with those sleepy eyes. "May I give you a bit of advice?"

"Oh, I'd welcome that."

"Your methods betray a certain… arrogance," said the Engineer. "Clever operators like you play a chess game with the target, following him around, moving your pieces into position. Suddenly, the man opens his eyes and he's in check. Now he has no choice but to move wherever you want him to." His mouth tightened. "Move into some safe house perhaps, with digital cameras everywhere, recording his every fart for posterity. That's not my way. I'm an artist, not a chess master. I simply find out what the target loves"-he licked his lips- "and I let my imagination soar."

"What do you love?" asked Thorpe.

"You just may find out, Frank."

"Stay on the PCH past Seal Beach." Thorpe croaked, his vocal cords bruised. "I'll tell you when to turn."

"I enjoy Southern California," said the Engineer. "I like the wealth and the women, the sunny days and the cool nights, but most of all, I like the absence of insects. No mosquitoes, no chiggers, no cockroaches. I grew up in South Florida in a home without air conditioning. The place was crawling with insects; all those little legs waving… you can't imagine what it was like. Roaches that fly, roaches the size of hummingbirds flying in your face when you turned on the light, and the sound of those papery wings… I used to check my bed every night, but there was always a surprise." He nodded at Thorpe. "What about you? Where did you grow up, Frank?"

"Is this the part where I realize that we're not really all that different, and we kind of sort of become best buddies?"

"How much farther?" snapped the Engineer.

Thorpe allowed himself a smile, pleased that he had annoyed the Engineer. Anything to knock him even slightly off balance. "I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill the both of you."

The Engineer laughed. "How many times have we heard that before, Gregor?"

The belt jerked into Thorpe's throat, and Thorpe arched his back as Gregor slowly tightened his grip.

"It's not so easy to be brave without air, is it, Frank?" said the Engineer. "All those lofty emotions just go by the wayside."

Thorpe kicked at the dash, reached back for Gregor, and clawed at his face, dug his nails in. He heard the bodyguard howl, the belt tightening as Thorpe pulled at the leather, struggling to get a grip.

"That's enough, Gregor. I'm sure Frank has learned his lesson."

Thorpe gasped as Gregor eased off on the belt, snot running from his nose.

"You wouldn't believe the thoughts that run through my head sometimes," said the Engineer. "If I wasn't a morally strong person, they would drive me quite mad." He kept the Buick right at the legal limit. "The first time Claire got a look at me, I knew she didn't like me. It wasn't my innocuous pose she was responding to; she actually seemed to sense my true nature. Feminine intuition, Frank, it disgusts me. It allows them to take unfair advantage. Then, when I realized that she had lied to me, lied to protect you, I found myself possessed of a most extreme resentment. It almost clouded my judgment. I almost got into my car and followed her. My mental clarity prevailed, but still… I had such thoughts."