“It won’t be long.” Korgan took a step closer to Baldwin. “I just want to ask him a few more questions about his home away from home with Masenak.” He bent lower and looked him in the eye. “Let’s talk about Jubaldar Castle, Baldwin.”

Baldwin stiffened. “I don’t know anything about it. I told you, I’ve never been there.”

“Yes, that’s what you told me. But we both know that’s a lie. I want the location. I want the complete plan for Jubaldar Castle and grounds.” He paused. “And I want to know what quarters Marcus Reardon occupies when he’s at the castle. I particularly wish to know that, Baldwin.”

Silence. “I never heard of any Reardon,” Baldwin finally said roughly. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. No castle. No one named Reardon.”

“I’ll ask again. Where are Reardon’s quarters located? What day is he supposed to arrive at the castle?”

“You can ask me that all night. I can’t answer what I don’t know.” He glared up at him. “Go screw yourself, Korgan.”

Korgan slowly nodded. “Whatever. Maybe Masenak never took you to the castle. I thought you were more important to him.” He turned away. “Forget about the castle, Gilroy. Just concentrate on how to use him to get to Masenak here in the jungle.” He strode out of the tent.

He wheeled to face Alisa as soon as she joined him. “Well?”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” She shrugged. “He was lying. Anyone could see through him. He knows about the castle. He knows about this Marcus Reardon.” She frowned. “Though he might not know where Reardon’s quarters are located in the castle. There was something…hesitant.” She glanced at him. “Or it might mean that Reardon’s quarters aren’t in the castle? Is that possible?”

“Anything is possible with Reardon. I thought the same thing. I just thought it likely he’d have quarters in the castle. And maybe he’s just too frightened of Reardon to talk about him. Don’t worry about it. We’ll know soon enough. I just wanted preliminary answers to the questions about the castle and Reardon so that I could have a base of comparison after Gilroy administers the zantlatin.”

“Zantlatin?” She shook her head. “What the hell is zantlatin?”

“A form of truth serum that was recently developed in one of my labs in Bolivia.”

“Truth serums don’t work,” she said flatly. “The CIA has been experimenting with them for years, and even sodium pentothal isn’t reliable. You might get a little truth, but you’re more likely to get fantasy, deception, and garbled speech. You’re better off getting the subject drunk.”