Страница 9 из 90
As they reached the elevators her thoughts returned to a feeling that had been nagging her. Someone at Langley was leaking highly classified information. Accusations were appearing in the press that were far too close to the truth. The Intelligence Committees were becoming increasingly antagonistic, and now she had to deal with this hungry deputy attorney general who was trying to make a name for himself. A sense of foreboding crept over her, like a looming storm on a humid summer day.
CHAPTER 9
BAGRAM AIR BASE, AFGHANISTAN
RAPP sat on the edge of the metal table, looked down at the bound terrorist, and asked, “Is it seventy-two or seventy-seven?”
Abu Haggani lifted his head cautiously and stared at Rapp, confusion in his eyes.
“Virgins,” Rapp said. “Seventy-two or seventy-seven. How many do you guys get when you go to paradise?”
Haggani muttered something under his breath and looked away.
“I’m not giving you crap,” Rapp persisted. “I’ve read the Koran several times and that’s one of those facts I can never keep straight.
Not that it matters much. I mean what’s the difference… seventy-two versus seventy-seven? It seems a little like overkill, don’t you think?”
Rapp paused to see if Haggani would respond. He didn’t, so Rapp pressed on. “Have you ever read the Koran, Abu?”
Haggani fixed Rapp with a hard stare and in Dari said, “I know what you are trying to do.”
“What’s that?”
“You are trying to provoke me. We know about your methods. We have undergone training to defeat your tricks.”
Rapp knew it was true. Most of their once secret interrogation programs had been blown wide open. Many of their methods had been dissected by politicians and the press alike. Terrorists had been released and had run back to Afghanistan and other parts, where they were thoroughly debriefed by the very organizations they denied belonging to. The whole mess drove Rapp insane, but there was only so much he could control.
Rapp clenched his left fist and then flexed his fingers. “Abu, I am not trying to provoke you… at least not yet. I’m not one of the talkers. I don’t have the patience they do… like my friend who was in here earlier. He’s next door talking to Mohammad, and we both know how that is going to play out. Mohammad is going to sell you and the rest of your friends down the river. You will eventually, as well, but it will take more time, and of course it will be significantly more uncomfortable.”
“You will never break me,” Haggani said with pride.
Rapp let out a long sigh. He’d seen this kind of bravado before. Once things got physical, it wouldn’t last long. “Abu, torturing guys and breaking them down is not something I look forward to, although your case is a little different. I think you’re such a despicable fuck that I might actually enjoy our little session.”
“You do not scare me.”
“Well, I should.” Rapp laughed. “I scare myself sometimes. You see… I’m not like the guys you’ve been talking to this week. I have a real conviction about this little war we’re fighting and I’m pretty intolerant of people who don’t have the stomach to do what it takes to win this thing. Add to that the fact that I pretty much don’t give a shit what people in Washington think of me and it makes me your biggest nightmare.”
Haggani shook his head and snorted. “Empty threats.”
Rapp reached out and put a hand on a galvanized metal box sitting on the other side of the table. Something inside stirred. The box shook and there was a scraping noise. “I’ve only used what’s in this box one other time, and let’s just say the guy I used it on was a hell of a lot tougher than you. He lasted less than thirty seconds.” Rapp was lying. He’d never used this particular method, but there was no sense in telling Haggani.
The terrorist looked anxiously at the box and, with a false bravado, said, “I have rights. You are not allowed to treat me like this.”
Rapp saw an opening. Maybe Haggani wasn’t as tough as they thought. Rapp thought of Nash, the way he would draw prisoners into a debate. How he would press them with logic, use the words of the Koran to undermine their weak arguments. Nash’s strategy was straightforward: get them talking. It didn’t matter what they talked about, it just mattered that you established a pattern. Gave yourself a chance to watch the subject, study his habits, and learn as much about him as possible. The tough questions would come later. Rapp had none of Nash’s patience, however. But still there was a part of him that was intrigued by Haggani’s request for proper treatment. He thought of one of Nash’s favorite questions, looked at the terrorist and asked, “Abu, do you think I should show you compassion? That I should respect your rights as a human?”
“Yes,” he answered with absolute sincerity.
“And how would you treat me if I had been captured on the battlefield and brought to one of your caves?”
Haggani ignored the question. “Your senators who I met with promised me that I would be treated with dignity. They gave me their word.”
“They are politicians. They say what makes them feel good and then they move on.”
Haggani shook his head in firm disagreement. “We have access to the Internet. To satellites. We have followed the debate in your country over the treatment of prisoners. Those senators meant what they said to me.”
“You go ahead and believe that, Abu, but I have no intention of treating you with dignity. You think of yourself as a holy warrior, but you are nothing more than a butcher. A mass murderer.”
“You know nothing of my ways.”
“Is that so? Let’s talk about the schools.”
“What schools?”
“The ones you blew up. The ones filled with little children.” Rapp expected one of several reactions from Haggani, but not the one he got.
Haggani smiled proudly. “We know how to sacrifice. We are not afraid to martyr ourselves for Allah.”
The anger came quickly. It started to rise up and Rapp stuffed it back down. Said, “You haven’t martyred yourself, tough guy, and I doubt you gave those kids a choice in the matter.”
He held his chin high and said, “I am not afraid.”
“You’re not afraid to send little kids to their death. That makes you a coward and a butcher, and if you had read the Koran you would know that.”
“What do you know of the Koran?” Haggani roared back.
Rapp gri
“I have it memorized.”
“Bullshit. You know as well as I do that you were taught the suras by some twisted Wahhabi cleric who told you only what he wanted you to know. Kill all the Jews. Kill the infidels. Cover your wives and daughters. Beat them if they disrespect you. The West is evil. We are just and good, blah… blah… fucking blah. I am so sick of the hate you pieces of shit teach each other and your children.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know Allah,” Rapp screamed, “is going to send your ass to hell for killing His children!”
“You have no right being in my country. You are infidels and Allah will punish you and your nation for this war.”
“You ever think maybe it’s the other way around?” Rapp brought his face within inches of Haggani’s. “That God is punishing your nation for how you have twisted and misused the words of the prophet? America hasn’t been at war. We’ve suffered the one attack. Your nation has been at war for almost forty years. Over a million people have died. Allah is mad as hell with you sick fucks. He’s been punishing you and he’s going to keep punishing you.”
Haggani unleashed a gob of spit, hitting Rapp square in the face.
Rapp didn’t bother to wipe away the spit. He didn’t bother to grab the stun gun. His head reared back and then snapped forward; the hardest part of his forehead striking Haggani on the soft bridge of the nose. It was like a hammer hitting a banana. Haggani’s nose flattened and blood began oozing from his nostrils.