The Rendition Read Online Free Page A

case of dysentery, but I was thirsty and I took a couple of sips anyway. When I started gnawing on the apple, I became aware of my loose teeth.
    â€œFadilj and Quemal will be back in an hour. You’re going to wish you talked with me, Alex.”
    â€œSure, Vickie.” I took another bite out of the apple. Despite the worms, it was sweet, tasted good. I said, “Did you like America?”
    Vickie looked at Nadaj and said something. When he laughed, she looked back at me. “Bridgeport’s a shithole. I worked in a furniture factory. All day long I glued pieces of wood together. I wore a mask. I got less than fifty dollars every day to take home.”
    â€œThat’s more than you can make in a month in Kosovo, Vickie. And you don’t have to give half to a warlord.”
    â€œI gave it to a landlord, asshole. My apartment was six hundred dollars, more. The landlord was a son of a bitch, and he kept the heat turned off. And your goddamned supermarkets charged for food like—”
    â€œYou should’ve gotten a green card. You could’ve earned more.”
    â€œI had a goddamned green card, asshole. You people and your stupid green cards. I hate your fuckin’ goddamned country!”
    Before I could say how much we Americans love our country, Nadaj said something and she nodded. “Ramush wants to know if you know about Afghanistan.”
    â€œWhat about it?”
    â€œAbout what happened there.” When I shrugged, she said, “Answer! Do you know what happened there?”
    I shook my head, and Nadaj started talking excitedly, gesturing with his left hand, the hand without the gun. He shouted something at me, leaning over the table, sticking his dumb face in front of mine. I wondered what had gotten him so excited. Vickie started talking to him, as though she was trying to quiet him down.
    â€œRamush is unhappy with you, Alex Klear. He wants to know who sent you. He wants to know how many of you were back there. He thinks you know about Afghanistan. He knows you were after him.”
    Like I say, I couldn’t have told Ramush exactly who sent me since I didn’t quite know myself. I had no idea why they were asking about Afghanistan. This operation had been shrouded in mystery from the beginning.
    Nadaj was still talking, but now he had his knife out. I became aware of my pounding heart. The knife had a curved black handle, a shiny steel blade, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. He stuck it in front of my face and kept it there for maybe a minute. The room started spinning again. As Vickie continued to talk with Nadaj, he calmed down. When he finally put the knife away, I breathed a shade easier.
    â€œYou just had a close call, Alex. Ramush says in his village the custom is to punish an uncooperative person by cutting off his nose. Ramush says without a nose you would be willing to talk. He says then you would tell the truth. He still wants to know who sent you.” She paused, looked at Nadaj, who was smiling and nodding like the village idiot.
    How could I have been so dumb as to fall into the clutches of people like this?
    â€œI think you should tell us,” she said. She picked up my passport. “Why is there no entry stamp? How did you get into this country?”
    I tried not to look at Nadaj, who I’d decided was a total creep. I could have told her that I got the passport, my wristwatch, and the Leatherman from Buck Romero, the guy who sent us off on this littleexpedition. I could have said that we flew into Skopje, in Macedonia, and bypassed the customs officials at the border by paying them money. It was somebody’s thinking that there shouldn’t be any official record of our having been in Kosovo.
    Since I couldn’t say any of these things, I continued to play dumb. While Vickie turned the pages of my passport and spoke with Nadaj, I heard the sound of a car. The driver was gunning the motor, and it was working hard to