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"And you think it means..."
"The negotiations are in trouble and she knows it. Why else would she bother climbing into that G.o.d-awful oven of a tower? She was picking out her playthings. And I've been picked." Jamie sucked air in an effort to soothe her agitated gut and resumed working her hands, alternately fisting and stretching them.
Until that morning, no one had seen Shoo Juh in the three weeks since news of the truce talks broke. The prisoners regarded her absence as a sure sign that the talks were for real. Now, two days after the Red Cross interviews, Shoo Juh had returned. And that smile. Not good. Not good at all.
A glance at Donato told Jamie he remained skeptical. She tried again. "Sir, if Shoo Juh's back, then there can't be much time left before everything goes to s.h.i.+t."
"We don't know that," Donato said. "You need to calm down, Lieutenant. You need to act like a leader and calm down and help everyone else calm down. Understand?"
* 205 *
"No, sir, I don't understand. I don't think we should calm down.
Not now. Not ever 'til we get our a.s.ses outta here and back to our own people."
Donato stopped walking. "Dammit, Gwynmorgan."
"Sir, once the last of the Red Cross people go, I'm toast. We've all got our shots now. Our supplies of antibiotics and antifungals. They're finis.h.i.+ng up today, right? Leaving tomorrow morning." Donato shrugged an affirmative.
"I can't-" Jamie worked her hands faster now, kept her face away from Donato. "I can't do it again. I-I'd rather be killed escaping."
"Lieutenant, I don't want to hear this. Nothing has happened."
"That's exactly right. We're still here. Shoo Juh's still here. They'll still shoot us like Cavanaugh if we try to leave."
"You'll attempt it no matter what I say, won't you?" Jamie didn't reply.
"How many want to go with you?" Donato asked.
"Haven't talked to anybody about it. Probably a lot more today than yesterday."
It took Donato a while to speak. "I'm a mistake, you know."
"Sir?"
"I didn't just get captured. The Zhong kidnapped me. Very daring.
But I was the wrong guy. They wanted the brigade G-Two, but the d.a.m.n fools couldn't figure out the difference between a man wearing a brown oak leaf and a woman wearing a black one. h.e.l.l, I'm not even intel. I'm the world's original fobbit screenwiz. Supply all the way. I'd been on this h.e.l.lhole island about six hours when it happened. Couldn't even tell the Zhong where the latrines were, much less anything about intel ops."
"Guess that's the good news."
"All I want to do is get the h.e.l.l home so I can resign my commission and go to work for my father-in-law like I should have four years ago. I think our best bet is to wait out the truce talks. But Shoo Juh interrogated me, too. And I don't want to ever be in the same room with that woman again."
"You and me both, sir." Okay, so he hasn't actually denied me permission. That'll do.
n.o.body knew it, but Jamie had acquired the first tool of escape the day the Red Cross showed up in the yard. As one of three POW * 206 *
officers, second behind Donato, Jamie'd been ordered to select a crew of prisoners to do the actual work of erecting the tables for the Red Cross people to use during prisoner interviews. When the Zhong guard standing next to her pulled out a handkerchief to wipe sweat off his face, she glimpsed a pen fall unseen from his pocket.
She worried, even then, about Shoo Juh lying in wait, setting her up. But she placed her boot over the pen anyway, kneeled down anyway to retie her bootlaces, retrieve the pen, and hide it. Bent to eighty degrees, the metal clip on the pen's cap would suffice as a torque wrench.
Of course, Jamie still needed a pick. Can't practice without a pick.
And G.o.d knew she needed the practice. Almost three weeks of North Carolina's ministrations had helped her hands regain some dexterity, but would she still have anything like the subtle sensitivity so essential to coaxing open a lock? A paperclip, a paperclip, my kingdom for a paperclip.
v "LT ma'am, wake up."
"Come on, North Carolina, that ma'am stuff has gotta go." Then Jamie opened her eyes. Sun hasn't risen yet. "What's up? What time is it?"
"Zero-five-thirty." North Carolina's face kaleidoscoped from uneasiness to excitement to fear. "The major just found out the Zhong commandant's coming to make an announcement."
"Coming? You mean here, to the cells?"
North Carolina nodded. "Before first muster. Before they unlock the doors."
Oh s.h.i.+t. "When?"
"Fifteen minutes. Zero-five-forty-five. Whaddaya think it means, LT?"
"Dunno, North Carolina."
v "Only temporary." Thus did the Zhong commandant's announcement begin-and end. He sprinkled "only temporary" into the * 207 *
middle a couple of times, too, but it didn't make his news any easier to hear: The truce talks had been "recessed." He offered no specifics; worse, he said the four remaining Red Cross people would be required to stay in Malihud "to protect their safety." For how long? "Jin chee," came the ambiguous reply-soon.
The POWs whispered about hostages. Yet because of the Red Cross presence, and perhaps especially because of the senator's presence, the Zhong behaved as if successful negotiations were inevitable and imminent-beginning shortly after the commandant's announcement, when the cell doors were opened only a half hour later than usual.
"Yeah, sure," muttered Jamie. "They gotta pretend, don't they?
Otherwise they've brazenly kidnapped an International Red Cross affiliated United States senator who's supposed to be safe here. Safe and free to leave when she d.a.m.n well wants." Donato nodded. Others nodded. But by day's end, only Jamie wanted to talk about it anymore.
"Bao?" she spouted. "That means protect, defend. What do the Red Cross people need to be protected from? What does Senator Hillinger need to be protected from? The PIA maybe? Does that mean the Zhong can't control the PIA? Or are they using the senator to-"
"Hey," Donato said. "Maybe it's just about the mudslides and washed-out roads."
"Except that-"
"Enough, Gwynmorgan." Donato glanced around the cells. The last of the POWs were returning and behind them the guards had started the lockdown ritual. "Don't push it."
Jamie understood. n.o.body wanted to preserve Saint Eh Mo's truce talks regimen more than she did. The cells unlocked during the day, the POWs enjoying unrestricted access to the yard. Food and medicine still coming. The Red Cross team continuing its work unhindered out of its small office in the camp's administration wing just on the other side of that heavy door in the yard's wall. The guards pretending to smile. And the interrogation chambers still vacant.
Hardly more than twenty-four hours after hearing that the truce negotiations had been suspended, the POWs' fears eased and they'd reached consensus: The breakdown truly must be temporary-or else the old draconian security would already have been imposed again. The brief spike of interest in escape waned once more.
But not for Jamie. It's all about time. If the talks don't get back * 208 *
on track, they'll let the Red Cross people go, they'll nasty up camp security, and the rest of us could be stuck here for years. G.o.dd.a.m.n, there's so much I don't know, so much I can't even begin to guess. How long before it all goes to s.h.i.+t? And where the f.u.c.k am I going to find a paperclip?
v "Think I could melt down a toothbrush handle with a lighter?" Jamie asked North Carolina during their usual afternoon perambulation of the yard.
"Ma'am?"
"Some of the Zhong have lighters, and if I could-" Jamie shut up as two guards approached.
When they politely asked her to accompany them to the administration wing, she hoped maybe Senator Hillinger had asked for her. After the guards indicated that North Carolina must stay behind, Jamie's spine p.r.i.c.kled. But she had no interest in upsetting the precarious status quo, and, G.o.d, she wanted to see Senator Hillinger again.
"I'll be fine, North Carolina." She patted the nervous corpsman's arm and walked off alone with the guards just as huge raindrops announced the day's cascade.
On the way to the door to the administration wing, Jamie spoke to the guard who she'd seen more than once with a lighter. She knew with certainty he spoke some English. Not on this day, however. He said only, "Gahn mahng"-hurry. A hazy, half-formed instinct alerted her.
What if this isn't the senator's summons? But she brushed it off.
Once in the administration wing courtyard, once the heavy, solid door locked resoundingly behind her, the guard she tried to speak with brandished manacles.
"NO!" Jamie roared as the guards grabbed her arms. "NO f.u.c.kING WAY!"
She yanked herself free of their grip and pivoted away from them into a feral crouch, ready to fight. Jamie knew now where they intended to take her, who they were taking her to, and she couldn't let it happen.
Not ever again. She wouldn't see freedom after all. She would die right here, right now. Maybe she could even make it quick, sudden. An instantaneous snap of a death.
* 209 *
"NO!" Jamie howled again as the guards shouted at her and several bursts of automatic-weapon fire from the tower bit the ground inches from her feet without persuading her to surrender.
That's when, at the periphery of her vision, she saw Senator Hillinger appear in a doorway some twenty meters away.
"Stop! Tee-ing hwah-aw!" The senator's shout mixed outrage and fear and was tinged with the steadfast expectation that she'd be obeyed.
"OmiG.o.d," Jamie gasped when she saw Senator Hillinger running toward her, toward the bullets. She dropped to her knees and clasped her hands around the back of her head, which halted the shooting just in time.
The guards had backed well away from the bullets, so Senator Hillinger reached Jamie first and put out a hand to forestall them. As they vacillated, she tried to talk them out of using manacles.
"It's all right, ma'am," Jamie said from her knees. "They're just following orders." She looked up at the English-speaking guard. "Ming ling . Yes?"
"s.h.i.+h," he agreed, obviously relieved.
"Duh-way boo chih," Jamie pleaded, eyeing each of the guards in turn as she tried to say "forgive me." Then she bowed her head before carefully, slowly drawing away her hands, reclasping them behind her back, and rising to her feet.
Every muscle in Jamie's body went rigid as the manacles clutched her wrists. A vibration quivered through her; she felt like she was about to explode. Somehow she managed to turn her head and get a last glimpse of Senator Hillinger, now drenched by the monsoonal downpour, looking small and hopeless. And then the Zhong guards spun her around and marched her off to the interrogation chambers.
v Leaning lightly against a table in the nearly empty room, Shoo Juh greeted Jamie with a tranquil smile and gestured toward two four-legged stools. "Have a seat." In almost any other circ.u.mstance, her tone might have seemed solicitous.
Obeying, Jamie watched her, seeking motive. This time, for the first time, she didn't wear a lab coat; she stood before Jamie dressed * 210 *
in cla.s.sic black silk tunic and pants, dry and elegant and cool. Shoo Juh dismissed the guards once Jamie sat on a stool, dripping and still manacled.
This was also the first time Jamie could recall they'd ever been entirely alone. For a long moment, Jamie stared at Shoo Juh and Shoo Juh stared back. Jamie girded for the usual heavy slap across her face- punishment for looking the interrogator in the eye-and she s.h.i.+vered, liberating droplets of water that clung to her. The last time she'd seen Shoo Juh, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was there, too, and she was beaten unconscious.
Repeatedly.
"Thirsty? Want some water?" Shoo Juh asked at last.
No slap? Jamie's s.h.i.+ver ceased abruptly. She tried to remain impa.s.sive but felt her eyes widen in surprise. "Yes, thank you, I'd like some water." My G.o.d, I sound so normal. She wondered if Shoo Juh would release her hands so she could drink the water.
Shoo Juh reached to the table behind her for a bottle of European-branded spring water and twirled off the cap. When her gaze returned to Jamie and their eyes engaged again, Jamie froze, every muscle unconsciously commanded to stillness. Just one lithe movement brought Shoo Juh to Jamie's side; her left hand petted Jamie's jaw as her other hand deftly positioned the bottle at Jamie's lips.
Her own lips nestled into Jamie's hair. She cajoled in a near whisper, "Here, it's cold. Drink."
Splendidly chilled, the water trickled out of Jamie's mouth and down her neck. She couldn't swallow it. Shoo Juh's fingers, still gentle, played suggestively, electrically along Jamie's jaw from her chin to her ear.
No... please... But Shoo Juh's fingers slithered onto Jamie's neck and menaced her head back, igniting a thin, irresistible flame under her skin. The flame snaked from her throat into her chest, into her belly, and seared her tense, pulsing c.l.i.t before it coiled deep into the adamant need for punishment that Shoo Juh had discovered and cultivated with such skill, the need Jamie hated and couldn't escape-not now, maybe not ever. Legs quaking, pelvis heaving, Jamie squirmed in her helplessness; one more time, the interrogator had taken everything.
Shoo Juh laughed softly, the heat of her breath alarming the nerves around Jamie's right ear. "Relax, hong mao. There will be no questions for you today."
* 211 *
The water bottle returned to Jamie's mouth; Shoo Juh's body undulated along Jamie's manacled right arm and shuddering shoulder.
Somehow able to believe the interrogator's words, Jamie swallowed once, again. Then, without warning, Shoo Juh grabbed the manacles and yanked ferociously.
The momentum shoved Jamie off the stool and onto her knees, and then she was dangling. Shoo Juh's practiced hands had attached a rope to the manacles and pulled. A rope Jamie didn't see, so rattled was she by this woman's gaze, this woman's power over her. A rope that must already have been tied to some hook in the ceiling, which Jamie also didn't see because all she could see was this woman's looming threat.
"What?"
Arms jacked up behind her, feet barely reaching the floor, the cruel fire stinging her, burning her, writhing her, Jamie squinched away any sound of complaint and contorted toward Shoo Juh's coldly fascinated eyes. "What...do...you...want?"
"Startling, isn't it, how pleasure merges into pain and pain into pleasure," Shoo Juh said, transfixed, her eyes gulping in the sight before her. "Like truth and beauty."
Jamie's NO! exploded into a shriek. "What do you want?" Then she was thras.h.i.+ng on the end of the rope, wrenching her arms mindlessly, kicking, swinging. Anything to provoke her pain to hurry, hurry and overwhelm all other sensation-anything to keep Shoo Juh from lowering the blackness over her, from inciting it to burst into a spray of blood.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Jamie screamed it, wailed it over and over. Shoo Juh stepped away from her flailing legs and watched her for a few minutes with untroubled detachment, like a scientist observing a lab rat. Then, evincing a minute frown, Shoo Juh released the rope and she hit the floor head first with a vicious, silencing thud.
Staring up at Shoo Juh, she wheezed her question yet again.
"What...do you want?"
Shoo Juh came nearer, an expression remarkably like regret on her face. Jamie tried in vain to wriggle away from her.
"I want to say good-bye." She sighed, seizing Jamie's shoulders and lifting with improbable strength until Jamie sat on the stool.
Breathing heavily, bleeding from her forehead, Jamie doubled * 212 *
over. Her head, her throat, her shoulders, her arms, her wrists, her hands, her genitals burned and throbbed. She wept without sound, debilitated into numbness. Into defeat.
How long did the interrogator ponder this sight? Jamie didn't know; Jamie was no longer witness to anything. Eventually, Shoo Juh leaned over her and kissed her neck with audacious sensuality while unlocking and removing the manacles.
Moaning at her release, Jamie cradled herself tightly, fetally, rocking back and forth on the stool. Shoo Juh kissed her again and then sat facing her on the second stool. "The PIA will be arriving in ten days to take over this facility."
What? What did she say?