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seemed, was part of this last group. They didn t disengage from the
interrogator the way the stoics did, but their behavior wasn t calculated to
affect the interrogator like that of the beggars and blusterers, either. Its
function instead was self-referential. What Dox was doing, although Hilger
wasn t sure if he was even conscious of it, was proving that if he could still
crack jokes, he was still himself. If he was still himself, he was still in
control, and things couldn t be that bad.
Which was what made breaking men like Dox so hard. It wasn t just a question
of pain. Pain was a surface thing. To break a man like Dox, you had to break
him down deep. Even with a jihadist, it was an unpleasant thing to have to do.
With an American, a former serviceman like Dox, it could be grim.
I know from your file you ve been through SERE, Hilger said. Did they
waterboard you?
SERE was the military s Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape program. The
purpose of the question was twofold: first, to bring forth memories that would
trigger anxiety; second, to suggest that Hilger knew a great deal about Dox,
that he was in complete control.
You tell me, Dox said, and Hilger thought, Touché.
They did, Hilger continued. You held out for almost five minutes. Your
instructors were impressed.
Dox smiled. They gave me a gold star.
It s different when it s not in the classroom. Worse.
Dox glanced up at his bound feet. You know, just because the latest
chickenshit legislation says it s okay to do this sort of thing doesn t mean
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you should be doing it. Shame on y all.
Pancho laughed. Why not? The legislation even promises to indemnify us, if we
get in trouble.
Dox looked at him. Especially shame on you, son. You re a disgrace to the
Marines.
Pancho startled for a moment, then glanced at the Semper Fi tattoo on his
forearm, realizing where Dox had gotten his information.
Hilger could almost have smiled. Dox was playing the same I know more than
I m letting on game Hilger was.
And where s that accent from? Dox said. You from Mexico?
Pancho s eyes narrowed. You have a problem with that?
Dox turned his head and spat. Well, it explains a few things.
Pancho started to move forward. Demeere stepped in front of him and said,
Easy, easy.
Go ahead, Dox said. You might be able to take me, tied up as I am. Then he
added something in Spanish that made the blood drain from Pancho s face and
scalp. Pancho tried to move around Demeere, but the big man kept him back.
Hilger was impressed. Dox was using what he could to control what he could,
and steadying himself in the process. Before he could manipulate the
environment any further, Hilger said, You re right, it s strange there was
such a fuss over these& what did the president call them? Alternative
interrogation techniques, that s right. Because mostly they re ineffective,
it s true. You haul in a fishing trawl s worth of field-level jihadists? You
don t know who they are, much less what they know? Hook up the alligator clips
and crank the generator and they spew so much bullshit that even if there s
some real intel mixed in with it, you ll never know, much less be able to make
use of it.
He paused as though in thought. But when you know who you ve captured? And
you know he s got the information you re after? And you can immediately verify
the quality of that information as soon as you extract it? Well, when you ve
got all that, alligator clips and a generator are pretty much a man s best
friend.
Listen to what you just said, Dox said. Really, listen. Alligator clips and
a generator are a man s best friend? You ve been out in the field too long,
amigo. All of you have. You ve got to get yourself some help. You need it.
Hilger was getting irritated despite himself. What I need, he said, is
information. Tell me how I contact Rain.
Dox chuckled. Yeah, I thought you might be pissed about Hong Kong. How s the
back, by the way? That was a heavy chair.
Hilger cautioned himself not to take the bait. He had to be smarter than that.
If he reacted like Pancho, they d all just wind up beating the shit out of the
subject and get nothing of any value.
The back is fine, Hilger said. Thanks for asking.
What do you want with Rain? You mad at him for killing that guy Al-Jib? Boy
wanted to make an atomic bomb for Al-Qaeda. And you were going to give him the
matériel. I ll tell you the truth, it s hard for me not to be sick just
talking to you from this close.
What you don t know about Al-Jib, Hilger said, would fill a book. And when
AQ does get a bomb or a radiological device, you and your friend can thank
yourselves for it. You fucked up an operation that would have stopped it.
That what you tell yourself when the Ambien s not working and you re lying
awake at night?
It was strange. Initially, seeing Dox helpless had eclipsed Hilger s anger at
the man s previous interference, at the long recovery Hilger had endured after
getting hit with that chair. But now that brief and improbable moment of
sympathy was receding so quickly, it almost seemed not to have happened at
all.
Hilger was beginning to accept that this wasn t going to be an easy one. True,
the information he wanted from Dox would entail only a minor betrayal, but the
man s honor and self-image required him to part with nothing without a fight.
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And, although his repeated requests now were likely to prove as futile as
Dox s resistance later, Hilger had his own reasons for trying one more time.
It would make the memories of what happened next easier to deal with.
I d prefer a phone number, he said, his tone still reasonable. Or an e-mail
address. Or the URL for a secure electronic bulletin board. Why don t you give
me one of those instead?
I don t know how to contact him, Dox said. He contacts me.
How?
He calls me. Always from a different number. But I haven t heard from him in
months.
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