Page 87 of Dark Rover's Gift

30

MAX

Interrogation room number three was bare except for a metal table, two chairs, and a narrow cot against one wall.

The guard occasionally stirred, indicating that he was coming around, but he seemed in no rush.

Max turned to the chief. "Do you want me to throw some water on him?"

"No need. He's coming around," Onegus said, and as if to prove him right, the man groaned and shifted.

They waited in silence as consciousness returned. The guard's eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then sharpened with alarm as he took in his surroundings.

"Where—" He tried to sit up, then groaned and grabbed his head. "What did you do to me?"

He was pretending to be much more disoriented than he really was. Otherwise, he would have spoken in his native Farsi and not in heavily accented English.

"We gave you a nap," Max said conversationally.

The guard's eyes darted between them. "You're making a big mistake. Why did you take me? There will be consequences?—"

"Please," Onegus said calmly. "We can do without the theatrics. Just take a seat in the chair so we can talk like civilized people."

The guy hesitated only for a second before doing as Onegus had commanded and moving from the cot to the chair. That was also the moment he realized that he was no longer wearing his clothes but was dressed in blue scrubs.

"What is this?" He waved a hand over the clothes. "I demand to speak to the Iranian consul?—"

"What is your name?" Onegus asked as calmly as before. "After all, we cannot contact the consulate without knowing who you are."

The guard gaped at the chief. "Rashid Mohammadi."

"Good. Now, Rashid, you're going to answer all our questions truthfully and completely. Understand?"

"Yes," the man said, his eyes looking a little glazed over.

Human minds were remarkably easy to influence, especially when the immortal doing the influencing was as skilled as Onegus. He wasn't a compeller, but thralling worked just as well on humans when applied with skill and precision, and the chief had Rashid completely under his thrall.

"Why were you at the Persian market today?" Onegus asked.

"Shopping," Rashid answered. "I wanted to get some saffron and proper rice."

"You recognized someone you didn't expect to see there. Who were they?"

"Soraya. Wife of Colonel Fareed. And her sister Rana." Rashid's brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to remember through fog. "They were missing. Thought to have been abducted by the rebels, them and their children and their two other sisters and their children. When I left Iran, Colonel Fareed was still waiting for a ransom demand. I was shocked to see them in Los Angeles, free and looking like wanton kafirs. No hijab. Western clothes. But I still knew it was them. I wanted to call in and report what I saw, but then this one jumped me." He pointed at Max. "Where is my phone? Why am I here?"

"Why indeed?" Onegus steepled his fingers. "What are you doing in Los Angeles, Rashid?"

The guy hesitated.

Onegus leaned forward. "Tell me everything, Rashid. You want to tell me everything you know."

"We're part of a major operation." The guard's expression grew animated. "Coordinated attacks across the city." A hint of pride crept into his voice. "We'll strike fear into the hearts of the infidels."

Max's heart started racing as he realized that the merciful Fates might have orchestrated the chance encounter with Soraya to save countless lives.

"What kind of attacks?" Onegus asked, his voice carefully controlled despite how tense his posture had become.

"Bombings. Multiple targets—shopping centers, transit hubs, entertainment venues." Rashid's eyes gleamed with fanatic fervor. "Maximum casualties. We have enough explosives to make September 11 look like fireworks."

---