“No, ma’am.” She started to ask another question, but he held up a hand. “We aren’t going to hold you against your will, but please hear us out first, okay?”

“How did you find me?”

“I promise to answer all your questions, but right now, we need to know everything you can tell us about the man who kidnapped you.”

She hesitated, her uncertainty plainly evident. “He didn’t want anything from me.”

“Whatever you tell us doesn’t go any further, you have my word. We already know you work for the NSA as an Eastern Bloc linguist.”

“How do you know that?”

“We’ll get to that, I promise.”

“I don’t know anything. All I do is translate phone calls.”

“What makes you think he didn’t want anything from you?”

“He never asked about my job or the NSA. I thought that’s what this was all about, that I’d translated something he wanted to know.”

“He never brought your work up? At all? Nothing about Hungary?”

She shook her head. “No, he’s after my ex-husband.”

“Ms. Dalton, don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s no evidence, physical or otherwise, that you were ever married.”

“I know. Duane said it was necessary to protect his work.”

“Duane? Is his name Duane Dalton, then?”

“Yes.”

“He’s your ex-husband?”

“Yes, my girls’ father.”

“Your kidnapper wanted you to make contact with your ex-husband? That’s why he used the video camera?”

Her face screwed up as she fought tears. “He made me call him. He could see me on his computer. He showed him our girls too. They were so scared.”

“Duane could see you and your daughters?”

She nodded.

“Did the man hurt your girls?”

Nichole shook her head.

Nathan gave an inward sigh of relief. “Who is your ex-husband?”

“You mean what does he do? He didn’t talk about it much. He was always secretive about everything.”

“Where does he live?’

“Glen Echo.”

He exchanged another glance with Harv. Glen Echo was right across the Potomac River from Langley. “Do you have an address for him?”

“Not a real address. Just a post office box.”

“No street location at all?”

“No. All I’ve had since we divorced is his cell number.”

Nichole Dalton’s voice grew higher in pitch. She seemed on the verge of losing control. Understandable, given what she’d just been through. Nathan looked at Harv and received a nod to continue. Harv was a better judge of mental states.

“You’re doing fine,” Nathan said softly. “Everything you tell us will help us find your girls. What does Duane do for a living?”

“He owns a construction management company.”

“What kind of construction?”

“Power plants.”

“For generating electricity, like that?”

“Yes.”

“Here? In the U.S.?”

She shook her head. “Overseas. Eastern Europe and North Africa.”

“Nuclear power plants?”

“No, coal and oil.”