Shooting a dagger of a look Charlie’s way, Flix made his exit, muttering a string of filthy Spanish imprecations. For her part, Charlie had reached down and grabbed el-Habib’s balls, squeezing hard. Tears flew out of his eyes and a dribble of saliva appeared at one corner of his mouth. He said something unintelligible.

Whitman stepped forward. “I can’t hear you, Seiran.”

“Make … make her stop.”

Charlie bared her teeth. “Only you can do that, fucker.”

“H-how?” he said through teeth clenched in pain.

“Tell me about the Chinese.”

“I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the tin, fucker. The tea tin. That didn’t come from Mecca or Kabul or Islamabad. It came from Beijing, courtesy of your friends there.”

“Khara,” el-Habib said. “Khara, merde, shit.”

She turned to Whit. “You wondered why the NSA first targeted this prick? Now you know. He’s in bed with the Chinese.”

“Doing what?” Whitman inserted his face next to Charlie’s. “What are you doing with the Chinese, Seiran?”

“I-I’ll tell you, but get her to let go of my private parts.”

Whitman shook his head. “No can do. Her interrogation, her rules.”

For a long moment, el-Habib’s eyes beseeched Whitman’s. Then, finding no solace there, he closed his eyes.

“Please,” he whispered, to Charlie, Whitman, or Allah.

“I’ll let go when you’re done,” Charlie said. “Not a moment before.”

The Saudi nodded. “I’m a kind of middleman.”

Charlie tightened her grip. “Either you’re a middleman, fucker, or you aren’t.”

More tears leaked out of el-Habib’s eyes, squeezed shut against the grinding agony. “Okay, okay, I am a middleman.”

“Between who and who?”

“You know.”

“I want to hear you say it, fucker.”

His teeth ground together. “The Chinese and the Americans.”

Charlie gave Whit a meaningful glance, then she said, “The American government.”

“No. A private group.” Then he let out a scream as she increased the pressure on him.

“Liar. You were guarded by members of the U.S. military.”

His eyes flew open. The capillaries in the whites were bloodshot. “I’m telling you the truth, I swear.”

“Evidence says otherwise.”

“I can’t help that. The person who comes every six months—”

“He brings you new girls because you get bored with the old ones.”

His eyes opened wide. “Who told you that?” he whispered.

“Alice.”

“She’s a born liar.” He looked around. “Where is she, anyway?”

“In the kitchen, fast asleep.” Charlie’s hand pulled him back to her vector. “A man with milky blue eyes will be here in three days,” she said. “Is that a lie, too?”

El-Habib quailed beneath her withering gaze. “N … no. He … he’ll be here.”

“With a new pair of girls.”

When the Saudi did not respond, Charlie said, “Answer me or it won’t matter how many girls he brings.”

“Please. Have mercy. Yes, he’ll be bringing the girls.”