Марк Грини - One Minute Out

“It’s fine. Let’s focus on Meyer. You are going to have to resort to other measures.”

With a tremble in her voice she tried and failed to control, she said, “I . . . I don’t think I can do what you are going to ask me to do.”

“We have to find answers. Look, I’m not going to get us what we need tonight. There are too many men around. I can’t threaten, capture, torture, follow, or kill anybody here tonight. So it’s up to you now. You have to get us some fresh intelligence.”

Talyssa looked at the man in the other room and wondered if she had what it took to go forward. But she lifted her head, brought her chin back, and said, “What do I do?”

“Exactly what I tell you to do, without hesitation. I need you to become me. If I were there I could get that little dipshit hacking into NASA in fifteen minutes, because I would put the fear of God in him.”

“Yes. I saw you do it with Niko Vukovic.”

“Exactly.”

“But I am not you. I am not scary.”

“Intimidation is about selling an attitude. The more they believe you will do something, the less you will have to do. I can’t give you the ability to snap some bastard’s neck, but I can give you the attitude so that he thinks you will snap his neck.”

“How?”

“Keep your earpiece in. I’ll hear him and you, and you will hear me. I can talk you through every single thing to say. But you can’t waver.”

“Okay,” she said after some hesitation.

Harry replied, “But look, Talyssa. This plan is not guaranteed. It may not be pretty. If I tell you to stick an ice pick in that fucker’s eye, you’re going to make him think you are going to do it.”

Her stomach lurched. “An . . . ice pick?”

“I need you to be a heartless, soulless robot for the next few minutes. If you can do that for me, then we can get Meyer to do what we need him to do, and we can find out where they are taking your sister.”

“All right.”

• • •

I direct her to the kitchen, and I give her a list of items to collect. In the garage she finds a toolbox, and, despite her persistent questioning about what all this is for, she brings all the equipment I’ve specified upstairs.

Once there, she says, “I have it all. What do I do with it?”

“Put it all down next to him. If it’s there where he can see, that will amp up his anxiety.”

A minute later she has done what I ask, and then I hear her talk to her prisoner for a few minutes more. I direct her on what to say, but this Maarten Meyer is a hard sell. Other than some “fuck yous,” he barely responds.

Finally I say, “Okay, Talyssa. You’re going to have to hurt him some. I’m sorry, but you can do it. Pick up the pliers.”

I can’t see her, I don’t know if she does it or not, but I’m assuming she’s made no moves towards the tools. I say, “Pick up the fucking pliers .”

She can’t answer me, but I hear slow movement, the shuffling of tools on the table.

Then the noise stops.

Right in front of him she says, “I can’t!”

Damn. I say, “It’s fine, Talyssa. Put me on your speakerphone.”

“Okay.” I hear a click, and then I talk. My voice is nothing like Talyssa’s, because if I were there I’d tear that piece of shit apart without a moment’s thought, and I sound like it.

“Hello, Maarten.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m the guy she warned you about.”

“You’re Europol?”

I laugh. “Do I sound like I’m Europol? I’m not European, so I’m not Euro. I’m not the police, so I’m not pol.”

“So you are . . . you are what ?”

“Right now I am the guy trying to convince the young lady holding you to place that pair of pliers on your nuts and squeeze, but I’m having a hard time getting her on board with that. Some people aren’t as crazy as me, I guess.”

He barks out a thin laugh. “She won’t do it, and you aren’t here. You don’t scare me. Go fuck yourself, American. You’re bluffing.”

I turn my attention to Talyssa. “Think of your goal. Just think of your sister. There is one person between her and you right now. The man sitting right there.”

It’s quiet for a long time. Finally she says, “Yes. I . . . I understand.” To my surprise, I hear the sound of metal tools being moved around.

Now Maarten says, “What are you doing?”

I speak in a robotic, dispassionate voice. “Talyssa. Don’t wait. He’s just trying to buy time. There will be no more delays. We have to begin destroying his will now. To do that we have to destroy his body.” This disconnected tone only increases the certitude in the captive that I don’t give a shit about what’s happening. Like I could torture him to death and then order lunch without a moment’s pause. It’s psychological warfare, which is effective. Not as effective as actual warfare, but since I’m not there in the room, it’s the most powerful tool I have at my disposal at present.

I hear the Dutch hacker begging, and I hear Talyssa’s heavy breath. I worry she’s about to pass out, but apparently Maarten Meyer worries she’s about to start fucking him up with hand tools, because he screams now.

“No! Please! No!”

Talyssa Corbu speaks, and her voice surprises me. Apparently she’s found a wellspring of strength. “I’ve got it from here, Harry. I’ll call you back when I have what I need from him.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” shouts Meyer.

Her own tone has become robotic now as she answers him. “I’m going to do to you everything my friend told me to do to you.”

I remind her, “We need him alive. Listen to me. You puncture an artery and he’s no good to us. We need him—”

“He’ll live,” she says. And then, “Just.”

And then she hangs up on me.

Holy shit.

• • •

“Who is he?” Maarten demanded. “Who is he?” Spittle flew from his mouth, and tears drained freely from his eyes.

Talyssa leaned close to her prisoner, just as she’d seen the intense and frightening American who called himself Harry do in the bunker in Herzegovina. In a soft voice, still bereft of personal connection or passion, she said, “I don’t know, exactly. But he is a mass murderer. I’ve watched him kill in three countries over the past few days. I myself have never done anything like this, but unfortunately for you, I have reached my breaking point. I can see myself picking up that ice pick and filling you with little holes. Also unfortunately for you, I am not very well versed in human anatomy, so there is a reasonable chance I’ll hit one of those arteries he warned me about.” She shrugged. “Maybe we will both be lucky tonight. Let’s find out.”

“I’ll do the fucking hack! I’ll do the hack!”

“My friend warned me about you stalling, didn’t he? I think I better go ahead and show you my conviction to—”

“No stalling! Release my hands right now and I’ll get to work. You just tell me what you need.”

Talyssa thought it over for a few seconds, the ice pick shaking in front of her face. Finally she said, “I’m going to need to see some very fast progress from you.”

“You will get it! You will ! I’ll show you! Just don’t hurt me.”

Talyssa’s heart had never beat so hard in her life, and she wasn’t even the one in mortal danger at present. But she cut off his wrist ties with the butcher knife, and she pushed his chair up to the computer.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Jaco Verdoorn stood in a window on the top floor of the Casino of Venice, looking across the passageway in front of him, down to the north-south street a block away. He saw men pass, and he thought they looked suspicious, but like Klerk said before, he didn’t see Gentry.