"What do you mean?" Lawrence roared at Ivan.
"I'm sorry, sir," Ivan said. "She came through all the records checks."
Lawrence slammed his hand down on the desk. "But now you realize she's ISA?" He glared at Ivan. "How much does she know?"
Ivan shook his head. "We don't know exactly, but she was never in the lab. She-
"Never in the lab that we know of." Lawrence curled his hand angrily into a fist. "She's ISA. She could've snuck into the lab."
"I'm sure she didn't," Ivan said. "We've reviewed all the videos of the lab entrances and saw no sign of her entering."
Lawrence felt a slight hint of relief. If she never accessed the lab, she had no way of knowing the formula for the toxin. "Okay, so she probably didn't get the formula. What about the antidote?" The gas was impossible to capture, but the antidote was a liquid. If the ISA had the antidote-
"No, I'm pretty certain of that, too. I had Herr Doctor Schreiner verify that all samples of the antidote are accounted for." Ivan paused, and Lawrence knew he was not going to be happy with what Ivan said next. "We found she had some . . . missing videotapes." Ivan shrank back under Lawrence's withering glare and answered the next question before it was asked. "Of experiments on the test subjects. There are a few unaccounted for, and we must presume she delivered them to the ISA."
Lawrence closed his eyes and counted to 10. He needed to remain calm. The news was not all bad. They had found the spy. She did not get the toxin formula or the antidote. The most the ISA had were videos of the tests. They could observe the symptoms from those, but if Steve Johnson had talked - and Katerina's involvement with that doctor in Washington strongly indicated that Johnson had - the ISA already knew the symptoms.
Standing, Lawrence headed for the door. "Come, Ivan. . . . It is time I spoke with our lovely Mata Hari."
Ivan followed him from the room and down the corridor of the research facility until they reached a locked door. Producing a key from his pocket, Ivan unlocked it and opened the door. The room was little larger than a closet. Lawrence had learned from his time in the Salem prison that small spaces made the most effective confinement.
Against the wall, handcuffed to a chair was a young woman who looked Indian. Her black hair hung over part of her face, but her eyes were visible above the gag in her mouth. Lawrence could see the scornful gaze as she watched him. He stopped a foot in front of her, while Ivan pulled down the gag.
The woman said nothing. She just glared at him.
"Ah, the pride of the ISA," Lawrence said derisively. "Where are your masters now? You don't really believe they intend to rescue you."
She remained silent.
"No, I didn't really expect you to do yourself the favor of disclosing what you passed to them." Lawrence smiled, noting that the woman's scorned expression seemed to falter momentarily. "So what should I do with you?"
Ivan leaned close to Lawrence and whispered, "If she's like the others, she won't break."
True, Lawrence had to concede. The other spies they had uncovered had all died during interrogation. None had broken.
So why waste the effort? He studied the woman for a moment, reading her with ease. She was dead and she knew it, so she made little effort to hide her contempt for Lawrence. She would regret that. He might have given her a merciful death, but the scowl on her face meant she would have to serve a purpose first - actually, he thought, a couple of purposes.
"Ivan, please take our guest to my bedroom," Lawrence said. "It has been quite a while since I've enjoyed the comfort of a woman." The woman's eyes flashed - maybe a little fear - but she remained silent.
"Are you sure, sir?" Ivan asked in a very low voice.
Lawrence nodded. "Yes. Just make sure the handcuffs are attached to the bed." The bed had metal frames, so there was no chance the woman would escape as he had his way with her. Lawrence could almost feel her warm body under him right now. Maybe he would make her scream like his former wife, Jennifer, had on their wedding night.
Ivan quickly unlocked the cuffs that hooked the woman to the chair and began dragging her out of the room. He stopped only when Lawrence spoke again, a cruel grin on his face.
"Oh . . . and when I've tired of her . . . well, tell Dr. Schreiner that he will have another test subject for his research."