“I know your cuts are painful, but they’re not life threatening. You’re in no danger of dying. It’s important we keep you completely hidden. Harv and I know a doctor. He’s a very skilled plastic surgeon who can suture you up much better than an ER doctor. He’ll get you on antibiotics too. You’ll be in very good hands. I promise. You need to trust us, okay?”

“I do trust you. You just rescued me. But what about my girls?”

“Like I said, you need to trust us. While you’re being treated, we’re gonna be busy.” Time for a white lie. “I promise we’re going to find your girls. All those questions you answered help us a lot. It’s also the reason for the secrecy I mentioned. We don’t want their kidnapper to know we’re closing in on him. I promise to have you out of here in the next ten minutes or so. I can’t tell you everything, but there are other people who’ll want to talk to you about your kidnapper.”

“The NSA.”

“Probably the CIA and FBI too. We can insulate you for a while, but you’ll eventually have to talk to them.”

“I don’t understand any of this. It’s like a bad dream. I keep thinking I’ll wake up in my bed and none of this will be real.”

“That’s a normal thing to feel. Ms. Grangeland is going to stay with you while Harvey and I talk to those men out there. I promise this won’t take long.”

Nathan motioned for Harv to follow him out of the room. “She’s not a spook.”

“I agree,” Harv said.

“We need to find out which one of those goons is in charge and get Montez’s phone number.”

Chapter 31

Chapter  31

The great and powerful Duane Dalton—a truly pathetic sight—broken and sobbing like a child. Not so great or powerful anymore. Yet something bothered Montez. He didn’t feel a sense of satisfaction with Dalton like he had with Kramer. He supposed it might have something to do with familiarity. Over the last six years, he’d had frequent contact with Kramer. Interrogating Kramer had been… what? Enjoyable? No, that wasn’t the right word. Satisfying. He’d always sensed a smug superiority oozing from Kramer, as if the man felt interacting with a mere Nicaraguan interrogator had somehow been beneath him. At the end, he’d actually lost his cool with Kramer at Bullfrog Bay. Montez winced inwardly. He was better than that. Above it. Still, casually pushing Kramer into the water with his foot had been sweet, as had seeing Kramer’s final expression.