Chapter 21
I will state once again for the record that I have neither ownership of nor any connection with U.S.A. Network's outstanding series "Covert Affairs." I do think it's the best show on TV and send my undying thanks to the producers, writers and talented actors who create it.
My thanks to those readers who have hung in with me on this long journey. Beginning with this Chapter 21, I will be posting the rest of the second part of the "Blind" trilogy – composed of "Blind Ambition," "Blind Faith" and yet to come "Blind Justice."
My most sincere thanks to the two best beta readers in the world: call2wrshp and Martha G. They keep me on track and readable. And I send kudos and heartfelt thanks to fbobs, who is a technical wizard.
They didn't come for Auggie at the usual time on what he judged to be Saturday morning. He had time to dry his clothes and doze for a bit in the early warmth. But there was no breakfast either, and worst of all, no morning bottle of water. Thirst was a constant, nagging, insistent need. His lips were cracked and painful, and his tongue felt swollen to almost double its normal size. He was forced to sip almost half of what he had captured in the night.
When they did come it wasn't gently. The cage door was thrown open and two men grabbed him roughly under the arms. An unfamiliar voice informed him that he had a cattle prod in hand and was more than willing to use it. Well aware that a daylight fight against such odds was useless, Auggie went limp and let them drag him to the interrogation room.
He expected to be tied again, but he was barely through the door when Mercer sprang at him, clamped both hands around his throat and shook him. "Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! There's not a word of truth in that fairy tale you have been spinning us." His hands tightened; air and blood flow were cut off, and Auggie's already bruised throat felt as if it were being crushed like a plastic straw.
"There's nothing going on in the Hindu Kush; there's no presence in Tajikistan. The Chinese think we're crazy. You've made me look like a fool! And, God help me, I almost believed you." He was shaken hard; then Jakob was there to pry Mercer's hands away, finger by finger.
Auggie dropped to his knees, gasped and drew in air in great, sobbing breaths. When he could, he turned to face the spot where he heard Mercer's muttered curses. He forced a smile. "Had you going for a while, huh?"
There was a brief scuffle as Jakob stepped in front of Auggie to stop Mercer's charge. "Must I remind you once again that dead men tell no tales – true or otherwise? You do more harm than good. Leave him to me."
"You'd better get some truth out of him and damned quick. I'm running out of time and patience both," Mercer said.
When he left, Jakob had Auggie tied once again in his chair. "It is very unwise of you to taunt Herr Mercer," he told Auggie in his usual calm and patient tone. "He is not a man who likes to appear foolish, and he has very little tolerance for those he dislikes. He seems to hold some particular grudge against you. The time is close when you must tell us something he can use, or I can't guarantee your safety."
Auggie tried to laugh, but it emerged more as a croak. The idea of his torturer as the guardian of his safety was ludicrous. He had known this was coming. Only the difficulty of communication over the vast distances and into the remote regions involved had made the story hold up as long as it had. He had other scenarios prepared, but he couldn't appear to give them up easily. He had some punishment coming. Maybe he could stall for a while first.
"It's over a woman," he forced from his damaged throat. "All this because the woman he wants chose me."
"What? What are you saying? I don't understand."
Lucky. He had caught Jakob's interest. "I'm just a computer geek. I keep a lot of very expensive equipment running. I get bugs out of the programs and watch for hackers. I don't know any big secrets. Do you really believe they'd take a blind guy into their inner circles?"
If he could make Jakob believe he was very low on the Agency's totem pole and that Mercer had personal reasons for persecuting him, he might win some sympathy. "Mr. Mercer has a thing for beautiful blonde women. His eye fell on one lady who works in my section. They had a brief fling, but then he went off with no explanation and abandoned her – in fact, he did it twice. I expect you know this is not the way to woo a woman. I offered comfort and security. She turned to me. He just can't accept it and move on. It's the reason for this whole thing." And that was the truth if nothing else was.
"I see," Jakob said presently. "And, Auggie, my friend, I suspect you are a far more pleasant companion than our Herr Mercer. He can be difficult."
"Why do you work for him then?"
"Ach, our mutual employer, Klaus, suggested that I assist him with this mission, and one doesn't often refuse Klaus. Besides, the pay is good."
"If it's a question of money," Auggie said, "I'm not without some funds. I might be able to make it worth your while to change sides?"
Jakob sighed. "Tempting, I don't enjoy the heat and humidity here. I would like to go home. But, I have found that once one takes the money and agrees to the work it is best to remain with the first employer. It is harder than it might appear to leave Klaus."
It had been a faint hope, but it had been worth a try. "I hear you, but think about it. My people could work out some sort of protection deal with you, I believe."
"I will keep it in mind, Auggie, but for now you must find some item of useful information to satisfy Herr Mercer. I don't believe he will be so easily taken in again. You are cleverer than he thought."
"I only made it up because I don't know anything worth telling. I wish you'd believe me!" Auggie said it with all the sincerity he could put into his voice.
"It's not a question of my belief, but of his. You leave me no choice except to continue."
Auggie fell silent and began to compose his mind to endure. He breathed deeply and sank far inside. He withdrew from his body and tried to center on all the strong and good things in his life: on his complete belief that Annie would come. It had been quiet for some time when suddenly he heard a soft pop and a fizzing noise.
His whole chair was thrust far back and some frothy, foaming liquid poured up his nose. Instantly his sinuses and breathing passages were on fire. Another splash of the stuff and a horrible, sickly-sweet liquid trickled down to burn through his sore throat. The pain was incredible. It jerked him back from any meditative state. It felt like the top of his head was about to blow off. A third dose flooded his face, filled his mouth, ran up his nose and forced its way under his tightly closed eyelids.
Sheer, hard will power prevented an instinctive gasp that would have sucked it into his lungs. Instead, he blew out as hard as he could. It let him get a soggy breath, but did nothing to relieve the unbelievable burning. His chair was jerked upright, and he bent as far forward as he could to gag and vomit. He clenched his teeth and waited. It felt like an eternity before the worst of the pain subsided.
"My God, what was that?" he got out when he could.
"Jakob chuckled. "Only a can of one of your most popular fizzy sodas. Would you like another? I have plenty here."
"No, no more." Tears flooded from the burn of the soda in his eyes. Let Jakob make of them what he would.
"Then you must tell me something useful."
"Can't – don't know."
There was a pop and his chair was yanked back again.
Auggie endured the ghastly treatment three times before he produced his next red herring. He told them of a deep cover agent placed some 6 years ago in a sensitive position with the Palestinian secret police. The agent actually existed, but he worked for Iran not the U.S. His cover was excellent, and he was highly regarded by the country he had infiltrated. The C.I.A. had only learned of his existence by accident. It didn't hurt that Iran was notoriously close mouthed and rarely gave up information on any of its operatives. It would take time to check.
Auggie was dragged back to the cage and dumped. Still in pain, he crawled into a patch of shade and collapsed. He was huddled there when James brought his plate of leavings for supper.
When Auggie didn't stir, the big man let himself into the cage and came to his side. "I heard it was very bad today," he said. "I'm sorry. It is wrong. I don't want to be a part of this." He patted Auggie gently on the back. "Come, you must eat to keep up your strength. I brought extra water," he whispered.
Auggie rolled over and sat up. "Water?" It was the true nectar of the gods.
A bottle of cold, clean, fresh water was pressed into his hand. "There is another after this," James said.
Auggie opened the precious liquid and drank slowly. It was the most marvelous thing he had ever tasted. The cold numbed the pain in his throat and the nasty taste was flushed away. He used the dregs to wash out his still stinging eyes. He drank only about a third of the second bottle. It was far too precious to consume all at once.
"Better?" James asked. Auggie nodded. "Then try to eat. I pick good for you tonight."
And he had. There was a whole leg of fried chicken, rice with gravy and cooked carrots. James had even snagged a slice of peach pie. Auggie took it gratefully.
It was their habit to shove the tin dinner plate under the door and come back later to demand he return it in the same manner. They apparently thought he could contrive a weapon of some sort if they left it in his hands, and he could, but there was never enough time for the work involved. He had tried their resolve by refusing to bring it to the door on his second night in the cage.
The man sent to pick up the plate left and returned shortly with help. Auggie was held by two men and slapped and punched by a third until he was bleeding and groggy. Since then he had shoved the plate back under the door as soon as he had eaten what he could of their swill.
"Tonight," he told James, "send somebody else for the plate; not you." It was a risk to reveal so much of his plan to the enemy, but James has shown him a soldier's sympathy, and he had to get away. Today had been hell. Much more and both his strength and will would begin to fail. He had decided to take the chance.
Auggie wasn't a fool. He knew he was on an island and that recapture was almost inevitable, but if he could stay free for a day or two, it would give Annie more time to find him, and provide a break from the daily routine of torture.
James looked thoughtful as he took back the empty water bottle. Would he tell Mercer – give it all away?
"Ya," he said. "Someone not so big as me, okay?"
Auggie smiled and nodded.
"Viel Glück!" James said. He tucked the extra water bottle out of sight and left, careful to lock the cage behind him.
The warmth of the sun had long gone and the night sounds and breezes had played around Auggie for some time when he heard footsteps approach.
"Bring the plate, prisoner," a light voice he had heard once or twice before demanded.
Auggie pulled himself half erect and began a slow drag toward the door with the plate clutched in one hand. Half way there he faltered, groaned, stopped, then collapsed on his face with the plate at his side.
He neither stirred nor responded to the repeated yells and curses from the door. In time he heard the locks open, and steps reached his side. The man bent to take the plate, and Auggie's arm snaked around his neck. Before he could shout, the grip clamped his windpipe shut and his legs were kicked from under him.
Auggie's long legs locked around him in a scissors grip that immobilized his lower body, a big hand clamped over his nose and mouth and the pressure on his common carotid arteries increased. He soon ceased to struggle, and Auggie felt his body go limp.
Auggie held on for a few more seconds and then eased the pressure on his throat. He didn't want to kill the man. Death would enrage his captors and make the search more urgent and violent. He only wanted him unconscious for a few minutes.
He ripped off the belt from his unfortunate prisoner's waist, pulled his hands behind him, formed a loop in the belt and used it to tie him tightly to the tree. He used the light tee shirt the man wore to form a gag.
Auggie quickly checked his captive's feet. He would give most anything for a pair of good boots, but the man wore only ragged boat shoes that were far too small for Auggie's long, narrow feet. The only thing of use was a small pocket knife.
Time was limited; he would begin to wake up soon. Auggie took the knife, picked up his water bottles and ran for the jungle. He knew where the closest cover was: the birds and the rustling of the wind had told him. He lifted his bare feet high and brought them down with quick care. If he planned to stay mobile, he had to protect his feet.