They followed her to the sedan. Nathan climbed into the passenger’s seat while Harvey slid into the back. She turned on the dome light and removed a manila envelope from her briefcase.

She hesitated. “Nathan, I don’t… I guess I don’t know how to do this any other way. I’m sorry.” She pulled an 8x10 photograph from the envelope and held it under the light.

Harvey leaned forward to see. “Son of a bitch! Where the hell did you get that?”

Nathan didn’t move. He looked frozen—paralyzed, almost.

She realized he was paralyzed. Caught in a horrible memory from an earlier time. Another world. A world of pain and humiliation.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He opened the door and walked into the darkness.

Harvey put a hand on her shoulder. “Let him go.”

“Harvey, I didn’t want—”

“Where did that photo come from?”

“From the Bureau. It was circulated to all our field and resident offices because it has the characteristics of a serial.”

“A serial murderer?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Two days ago.”

“Where?”

“Utah. Some Australian exchange students were camping in a remote area of Lake Powell a few miles from Bullfrog Bay when they heard a houseboat. One of them had a cheap night vision scope, but it was good enough to see what looked like a body being dumped in the water. It was the middle of the night, around one-thirty am. They called nine-one-one and reported it. At daybreak, the federal park service sent divers down and found the body. It had been wrapped in chain-link fencing.”

Harv took it all in, then reached out to touch her arm. “You did the right thing calling us, Holly. But it has to stop here. You can’t tell anyone Nathan has the same markings on his body. His life depends on it.”

“You think the murderer is Nathan’s interrogator from Nicaragua?”

“No doubt about it. It’s his unique signature. As far as we know, Nathan’s the only person on the planet to survive Montez de Oca, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

With a sickening twist of his stomach, Nathan felt a dark force stir. No! Not here. Not in front of Holly. He couldn’t let it happen. She must never see that part of him. He left the sedan and walked toward the hangars. He pulled his cell and keyed a memorized number.

An older man’s voice answered. “I haven’t had my coffee yet. This had better be damned important.”

“It’s echo five.”