Zahl stepped into Jason's cell, Elena at his side. "That was a clever diversion," said Zahl. "But not clever enough. You are no match for our efficiency, I'm afraid."
"Hello, Tasha," said Elena. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it to the party. You're more resourceful than I thought." She touched Tasha's shoulder; Tasha gasped, as if in pain, and grabbed Elena's wrist, forcing her toward the ground.
"You shouldn't underestimate me," said Tasha. Elena twisted out of Tasha's grip, and slammed a fist into Tasha's face.
Jason leaped forward, caught Tasha in his arms. "Don't you touch her!"
Tasha stood. "I'm fine, Jason." She wiped blood off of her lips, her eyes smoldering as she looked at Elena.
Zahl motioned the soldiers to lower their rifles. "The Premier would like to have a word with you both." He snapped his fingers. "Bring them." Two soldiers grabbed Jason's arms, forced him to his knees, and shoved cold steel against his already damaged wrists, pain stabbing through them.
Beside him, they handcuffed Tasha, and then dragged them out into the hallway.
"I'm sorry," said Tasha, catching Jason's eyes.
"For what?"
"For failing." Her voice caught; she looked away.
"You did more than I could have thought possible," he said. Jason was far from glad that Tasha had been captured, but at the same time, her presence lifted his spirits. Something in him needed her by his side; he didn't feel complete without her.
It felt strange to admit that, but he couldn't help what he felt. Perhaps, now that he was facing torture and death, he was thinking more clearly than he ever had.
Zahl and Elena led them outside to a helicopter. The prince was already handcuffed inside. As the soldiers cuffed Tasha and Jason to the wall, he said, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," said Tasha, swiping a loose strand of hair away from her face.
Jason nodded. "What about you?" Now that he was packed in beside Tasha, he could see that James had had a rougher time in Zohr than he had. A bruise marred his face and blood trickled down his chin; his shirt was torn in several places, revealing various cuts and bruises. The cut on his ribs looked especially bad, and they hadn't bothered to bind it up.
James gave a wry, sad smile. "I think they have been waiting a long time to get their hands on me."
Jason felt somewhat guilty; he'd been expecting to get interrogated, but all Zahl had done after he'd arrived was give him a tour around Zohr, and then handcuffed him back in his cell. He hadn't seen James at all during that time; now he knew at least some of what he'd gone through.
I'll probably get my turn, Jason thought. I'm not especially eager for that—but if there's a way to somehow draw their attention away from the prince, I'll do it. Even if it means….he shuddered. He'd never been one to shrink from danger, but to be vulnerable, bound beneath the merciless gaze of Zahl and Elena—especially Elena….He dreaded every time she caught his eyes, as if her vision pierced straight to his soul. She had totally undone him; he had no defense against her. The most he could do was try to avoid her as much as possible, which was hard to do when she was just a few feet away.
Elena climbed into the back with two soldiers; Zahl climbed into the cockpit and slammed the door. Above the roar of the blades, Elena said, "We should be in Rakima within the hour. Von Warberg wants to meet face to face the American spies who tried to disrupt our country, but I doubt we'll start your interrogation in earnest until after the execution."
Jason's heart jumped. "Execution?"
"Yes. We are going to make sure once and for all that the royal bloodline is cut off. Unless you have a son or daughter you haven't told us about." She looked at James.
James shook his head. "My life hasn't exactly been conducive to settling down with someone."
"And I doubt you'd have a child unless you could settle down. You're not the type. Still….one can never be too careful. Maybe we should postpone the execution until we know if you have a hidden heir somewhere."
"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
"No, I suppose not. Well, the people will be expecting an execution, and so we need to give them what they want."
"Not all of them want an execution," said Jason.
"A minority, maybe. The majority know that the monarchy is a poison that must be counteracted before our country can fully recover from the maladies of the past."
"You're the ones that have made this country sick," said Jason. "If the majority wants this, it's because you've blinded them to the truth."
Elena knelt on the floor. "So you really think this prince can revive the country? Look at him. He's a backwoodsman with no comprehension of what it's like to be royalty. He's not capable of leading much of anything."
"I think there is more to him than meets the eye," said Tasha. "Besides, if he's not a threat, why bother killing him at all?"
"Because he's a symbol. As long as he's alive, some will harbor hope that the monarchy will return and take them back to the 'good old days'." But if we destroy that hope—by displaying the death of that hope before millions—then it will be crushed completely."
"When is the…execution scheduled?" said Jason.
"Just before sunset, the entire country will witness the death of a symbol. It might not be so bad, prince. If your beliefs are true, you will soon be reunited with your parents again." She turned to Jason. "Then, after we get that over with, I'll start on your interrogation. I think I know what approach I'll take." She touched his face; he flinched away, but she grabbed his chin, her nails digging into it. "You know, Jason, I would have had your secrets by a much more pleasant method. Just a few more days, and you would have revealed to me your espionage. But then, the discovery of the prince took priority. I couldn't take the chance that he might escape, so I had to cut my operation short to bring him in.
"But now, perhaps we can continue our little line of conversation. We could go back to the illusion that we loved each other; wouldn't that be nice? At least for a little while."
"Why don't you just leave him alone?" said Tasha.
"Don't think that I haven't noticed the way that you look at him, Tasha."
"I—"
"You can't deny it, can you? I targeted Jason because he was the weak link—also because I doubt some of my best skills would work on you." She smiled. "But perhaps you too have a weakness beneath that ostensible armor. If I put pressure on him, how much could you stand before you would give in to our questions? It will be an interesting experiment to see who breaks first. I'm still betting on Jason here." She slipped her fingers into Jason's hair, and kissed him. He struggled away from her grasp; she laughed, and sat back, still gazing at him with a mocking smile. The only way to avoid her was to close his eyes. He leaned his head back against the wall of the helicopter, and shut out the world, all the way to the capital.
The helicopter jolted to a stop in a large courtyard, sidewalks converging in the center, statues and manicured bushes lining the walls of the huge brick building.
The soldiers pulled Jason out of the helicopter as more tan-uniformed soldiers converged on them. Two of them yanked him into the center of about twenty soldiers, and forced him to march toward the door.
Inside, they brought him up a flight of stairs, down a long hallway to a room with a red carpet leading to a throne-like chair. They forced Jason to his knees, James beside him, Tasha on the other side of James.
Jason's heart thumped against his chest; he had an idea why they'd stopped here. His wrists throbbed almost unbearably, but he tried to think of something, anything to distract himself from the pain. He followed the red veins of the marble as they swirled through the cream of the floor, rather like raspberry ripple ice cream…Maybe they'll ask me about that, he thought. Do what they like with me, they're not getting my dad's recipe for raspberry ripple….
A door slammed open. Footsteps marched forward. The rich red curtain swished open, and a man stepped through, seven soldiers like an honor guard behind him.
He stood for a moment, one hand behind his back, one hand rubbing his beard. He wore a white suit with a gold-trimmed red sash, and medals glinted on his chest.
Von Warberg.
Yes, thought Jason, I'm sure you deserve all those medals and they aren't just for show. He could have said it aloud, but it wouldn't do him or his companions any favors.
Von Warberg paced from the left end of the line, paused at Jason. Cold gray eyes looked down at him from beneath heavy well-defined eyebrows, an aquiline nose above thin, sardonic lips.
His hand flipped from behind his back, revealing an ornately carved cane. He thrust its cold tip beneath Jason's chin, forcing his face upwards. "Who is this?" he said.
"This is Jason Whittaker, sir," said Elena.
Von Warberg's lips twisted into a smile. "Ah. So he is the son of the impostor. I can see the resemblance to the late king."
His boots clicked forward on the marble. "And this must be the prince." He stuck his cane beneath James' chin. "He does resemble the spy. Very interesting." His eyes flicked back to catch Jason's; Jason's gaze fell back to the floor. Von Warberg stopped in front of Tasha. "And who is this?" He leaned down to look at her. Tasha glared back at him.
"This is Tasha Forbes," said Zahl. "The other spy."
"Tasha. She is quite lovely." He cupped her chin in his hand; she jerked her head away, and spat in his face.
Von Warberg reeled back, whipped out a handkerchief and wiped off his face. He lurched toward her, raising his cane—
Jason leaped to his feet. Soldiers grabbed his arms, forced him back to his knees; Von Warberg laughed, the sound ringing through the huge room. He stepped over to Jason, smirking down at him.
"So, you do not want to see her hurt? Would you rather bear the burden for her transgressions?"
Jason nodded. It had come to that, then. He braced for the impact of the cane, for agony to slice through him.
Instead, Von Warberg laughed, a low, amused chuckle. "Such a noble boy. Let me show you where nobility gets you."
He stepped back over to Tasha, and swung the cane into her face. She collapsed to the floor and Von Warberg kicked her in the side. She tried to struggle up on her hands and knees; he slammed his cane down onto her back.
She did not even cry out. Her silence cut straight into Jason's heart. Pushing through his state of shock, he climbed to his feet, only to have the soldiers shove him down until his cheek rested on the cold marble. A heel ground into his back but he barely felt it as the cane came down on Tasha's shoulders.
Please, please stop, thought Jason.
"Please," said James beside him. "Don't hurt her. Do what you want with me—just let them go."
Von Warberg stepped back. "Let them go?" he said. "We need vital information from them. You have no conception of what it takes to run a country—and that is something you will never have the chance to discover. You do not even deserve the title of prince, such as it is. But if you are looking for pain, perhaps we should accommodate you." He gave a quick nod.
They pulled him to his feet, and two held him while another punched him in the face again and again. Blood spattered onto the marble.
"That's enough," said Von Warberg. "We don't want to stain the floor. Why don't you take them to Aleem Center. I will join you there as soon as I take care of a few matters."
"Of course, sir," said Zahl.
"Well done, Zahl. This could have been a disaster, but you have turned it into a triumph. We have a wealth of information at our fingertips, and we have the long-lost prince in our hands." He smiled, pivoted on his heel, and disappeared beyond the red curtain.
Tasha groaned from the floor. Jason tried to crawl over to her, but the soldiers grabbed him and carried him out of the room. They took him down some stairs to a long, dark passageway, and then through another door. Light struck his eyes; when his vision adjusted, he saw rows of steel doors lining a broad bright courtyard.
Aleem Center. Or, as Munroe had called it, Saldenz—the Slaughterhouse.
They threw Jason in a cell, James collapsing beside him, barely conscious. Jason caught just a glimpse of Tasha's dark hair as they carried her away, then the door shut, plunging him into darkness.