Driver crossed the floor and stubbed the burning cigarette out between Serik’s eyes. He cried out in agony. She flicked the butt across the room, shook out another cigarette from the pack and lit it with Baptiste’s lighter.
Driver inhaled, long and slow. She breathed a jet of smoke in the air. ‘Tell us what you know, or the next one goes in your eye.’
Serik shook his head, whimpering. ‘Whatever you think I know—’
Driver grabbed Serik by a tuft of hair. She snapped his head back to face the ceiling. He screamed as Driver pressed the burning tip of the cigarette onto his eyelid. She counted to three as he bucked and writhed before letting him go. Serik’s eye was blood-red, the lid fried black and blowing up. He yelled and cursed in Kazakh, a language Driver had learned in her long pursuit of the man.
‘Well what do you know?’ she said, examining the still-burning tip of the cigarette. ‘I think we can do the other eye too.’
Driver approached Serik for another round. He turned his head in all directions, anything to save the other eye. ‘What happened in Orin,’ he said. ‘It was business.’
‘We’ll get to that,’ Driver replied. ‘First, let’s talk Moscow and Washington.’ She got behind Serik and leaned in over his shoulder. ‘See that camera up in the corner of the room? First I need you to look right into it and tell the truth.’
Serik shook his head.
Driver spoke in his ear. ‘Immunity’s no use if you’re blind in both eyes.’
‘Like your British friend said, a tortured man will say anything to stop the pain,’ Serik said. ‘How will you know if I’m telling the truth?’
‘Because I know where they’re going to send you,’ Driver whispered. ‘And when we find out you’re lying, I’ll hunt you and your wife down with a machete. I’ll pour gasoline on your children and take photos while they burn.’
Serik snorted. ‘Unlike me, your government has laws. Even the CIA—’
‘I’m not with the CIA, Nurian. Or the government – any government. I have no country, no ties, no rules. I don’t exist any more and neither do you.’
Serik’s good eye wandered to the bandage on Driver’s wrist. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Well unfortunately, you didn’t survive the trip out here,’ she replied. ‘You’re a ghost now, like the rest of us. And there’s only one way you’re getting out of here alive.’
Serik hesitated. ‘This deal – immunity for my family? They come with me?’
Driver hesitated. Was there no other way than this? No, much as it ate away at her, Serik’s cooperation might be the world’s only hope. ‘It’s all-inclusive,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Just tell the truth.’
Serik looked into the camera on the wall. ‘It was me,’ he began. ‘I was responsible.’
‘For what?’ Driver prompted.
‘For the explosion in the US embassy in Moscow,’ Serik continued. ‘For the Russian embassy in Washington.’
‘And who else were you working with?’ Driver asked.
‘Who else? No one else.’
‘You had help. We know that. Which country?’
Serik seemed genuinely confused. ‘Country?’
‘The Russians? The US? Which government were you partnering with?’
‘There was no government,’ Serik said. ‘I don’t work with your governments. Deals, trades, sure, but nothing more.’
‘Then why?’ Driver asked. ‘Why do it?’
Serik laughed. ‘Because you’re a cancer on the world.’
‘Spoken by a man who wears Levi jeans and a Rolex,’ Driver said, eyeing the watch on his wrist.
‘You invade our countries, drop bombs on our schools and hospitals…’ Serik ranted.
Driver couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You still trotting out that line? You’re not an extremist, Nurian. You’re an opportunist, fighting under whoever’s flag pays the most.’
A speaker high up on the wall crackled. ‘That’s all we need,’ Wells said. ‘Let’s wrap it up.’
‘In a minute,’ Driver replied. ‘He knows more.’
‘We got what we came for,’ Wells said. ‘We can get the rest later. It’s time to go.’
‘Give me a goddamn minute,’ Driver yelled, ripping a Velcro pocket open on her belt. ‘Tell me what happened in Orin,’ she continued, pulling a knife.
The smugness returned to Serik’s face. ‘We have a deal. Now do as your boyfriend says.’
‘You killed my boyfriend, remember?’ Driver said through clenched teeth. She held the blade of the knife to Serik’s penis. ‘Start talking or I start cutting.’
Serik glanced at the knife, no longer as sure of himself.
‘Look at me, Nurian.’ Driver stooped to Serik’s eye level. ‘Look at me and tell me I’m lying.’
Serik met Driver’s eye and swallowed hard.
‘In Kazakhstan, who tipped you off we were coming?’ she asked. ‘Who was the mole?’
Serik laughed and shook his head.
‘Driver!’ Wells yelled through the speaker.
‘Was it Gilmore?’ she asked.
‘Gilmore?’ Serik said. ‘Who the fuck is Gilmore?’
‘One of his team, then,’ Driver said. ‘Someone at Langley?’
Driver pressed the blade harder against Serik’s penis.
‘You cut me there, I’ll be dead before you get an answer.’
Wells yelled again. ‘Driver! Enough!’
Driver looked up to the two-way mirror and pulled the blade away. Serik relaxed in his chair. She drove the tip of the blade into the left thigh. Serik howled in pain. Driver twisted the knife and he howled some more.
Serik breathed out the pain and looked up at her. ‘What’s the time?’
‘What do you care?’
‘I’d look myself but my hands are tied.’
‘Why does the time matter?’ Driver asked, sensing something was wrong.
Serik chuckled to himself, as if he no longer felt the pain. She’d finally broken him. ‘You’ve no idea, have you?’ he said, as the door to the room flew open.
‘About what?’ Driver asked, as Wells ran in behind her and wrestled her by the arms.
‘That’s enough,’ Wells said.
‘Get the fuck off me,’ Driver replied, trying to shake herself free.
Wells dragged her backwards towards the door, Baptiste in attendance.
‘Who tipped you off?’ Driver screamed, tears in her eyes. ‘Who sold us out?’
Serik laughed and yelled after her in delirium. ‘You’ve no idea what’s coming. No idea!’
The door to the interrogation room slammed shut. Driver fought herself free.
Wells pushed her along the corridor towards the exit. ‘Cool off!’
Driver punched a button on the wall and pushed through both security doors onto the porch. She breathed as if she’d been running, her whole body shaking. Looking left and right across the porch the ex-Langley officer saw the same pair of slack-minded guards either side, keeping watch on the perimeter. While the Dutchman ran a pair of binoculars over the horizon, his German colleague approached across the rickety floorboards of the porch. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Fine,’ Driver replied.
The German offered her a cigarette. Driver accepted. She breathed out a plume of smoke.
‘Got what you came for?’ he asked.
‘Yes and no,’ Driver answered, gazing across the desert plains. ‘I dunno.’
The pair smoked in silence.
‘Sorry about earlier,’ Driver said. ‘Things are a little tense.’
The German cocked his head. ‘Days like these, everyone’s tense. Well, only three more days left before I go home to the family. Hopefully the world hangs on that long.’
‘You got kids at home?’ Driver asked.
The German held up two fingers. ‘Six and nine.’
‘I think it’ll be all right.’
The German looked towards the house. ‘How can you be sure?’
‘That’s classified,’ Driver said, taking another drag.
She stared into the far distance, into the light-blue haze of the sky. Unfocused at first, until something caught her eye. She heard the faintest beat of a helicopter rotor. A speck on the horizon. Nothing unusual, except it appeared to be heading straight for them. And getting closer.