Extreme Measures Read Online Free Page B

of Nash, got to his feet. The three of them left the cell bay and entered the other interrogation room. Nash placed al-Haq in a chair with his back to the door. Rapp walked around the other side of the table, leaned over and placed both hands on the surface, and stared into the prisoner’s eyes. In Dari he asked, “Mohammad, do you know who I am?”
    The prisoner hesitated and then looked up. His eyes searched Rapp’s face for a moment and then he nodded.
    “Do you think you have been treated well during your stay with the United States Air Force?” Nash asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Well, the party is over, Mohammad,” Rapp said as he moved around the table. “I brought your old buddy General Dostum down here from Mazar-i-Sharif. He is eagerly anticipating your reunion.”
    He glanced warily at Rapp and with as much conviction as he could muster, said, “I do not believe the general is here. If he was, he would be standing in front of me right now.”
    Nash and Rapp shared a look that al-Haq construed as nervous. The terrorist wiped his sweaty palms on his jumpsuit and added, “I have become a student of your country. I see how important it is for your leaders to feel that they are enlightened and compassionate. They would never allow me to be turned over to an animal like General Dostum. The senators I met with earlier in the week assured me that I would be treated humanely.”
    Rapp laughed. Nash shook his head. Al-Haq allowed himself a smile at what he thought was a small victory.
    “Your thinking,” Nash said, “is not far from the truth, but you left out one important thing. We’re CIA. We don’t play by the rules. Our job, our only job as ordered by the president, is to hunt down and kill you and your merry band of backward, bigoted nut jobs. Now, you may have found some comfort in the assurances of those politically correct senators who visited you earlier in the week, but let me tell you something, they have the shortest memories of any animal on the planet. We have assured the president that in our opinion an attack on the continental United States is imminent. He has talked to each of those senators, two of whom are up for reelection, and asked them how they are going to explain their behavior to their constituents if the U.S. is hit by a terrorist attack.”
    Nash was making all of it up. There had been no discussion with the president, and therefore the president had not gone to the senators in question. They were way off the reservation, but the prisoner did not need to know that.
    “Those senators bailed on your ass like that.” Rapp snapped his fingers. “So it’s down to two choices for you. You either talk to General Dostum or you talk to us. With us, it’s only going to be as painful as you make it. With General Dostum it will be painful. You will sleep in your own shit for as long as he keeps you alive. He will allow his men to do unspeakable things to you. You will experience pain that you didn’t think possible. You will beg him to kill you, and after he has had his fun, he most certainly will.”
    Rapp took a step back, folded his arms, and shrugged. “With us, as long as you cooperate, you will most certainly live. In twenty years or so you will probably be set free. You can even look forward to playing with your grandchildren someday.”
    “The choice is simple,” said Nash, almost pleading with the man to make things easy.
    The Afghani’s face was pinched in thought, like a card player trying to decide if he should fold or put everything in the pot. After a long moment he looked up and said, “I do not believe you. If General Dostum was here, he would be standing in front of me.”
    “Well that can be arranged,” said Nash as he moved across the room. He opened the door and left the small interrogation room.
    Rapp smiled at him. “You’re an idiot. The general wants you so bad he’s offered me money. Fifty thousand cash if I look the other way and let him take you back to