Vaill drove to a single-story redbrick outbuilding at the rear of the enclosure, and parked the sedan next to a large van with multiple antennae and satellite dishes on the roof. There were signs for an electronics repair shop, and the bay doors of an automotive repair facility. The two agents escorted him into the building by way of a side door and down a hallway to a small room with a drop ceiling and bile-yellow walls. Recessed fluorescent lighting reflected harshly off the white linoleum floor.

“Welcome to wonderland,” Vaill said with no humor. “This is the booking room.”

The space was no more than twelve feet to the back wall, where an electronic kiosk and a camera were set up for photographs and fingerprinting. Vaill and McCall bypassed the area and led Lou to a small alcove where they deposited their weapons into a metal lockbox.

“From booking to detention,” McCall said.

“So does this mean you’re going to uncuff me?”

“Just follow the white rabbit. You’re expected in the interview room.”

“Expected by whom?”

“Well, by us, of course.”

“In that case, you mean interrogation room, don’t you?”

Vaill returned a pleased-with-himself grin that gave Lou the shivers.

“Whatever works for you,” he said.

The interview room was even smaller than the booking room, with a table, three chairs, a box of Kleenex, three small plastic bottles of water, and not much else. There was a wall-mounted camera in one corner that provided a feed to a monitor on the other side of the door.

“You’re never alone in wonderland,” Vaill said, gesturing up to it.

The tight quarters, intense lighting, spartan furnishings, lingering body odors, and incompetent air circulation enhanced Lou’s sense of powerlessness. No doubt the setup was by design. Nice job.

“This is all useless,” he said. “I don’t know anything.”

Vaill, his face brooding and eyes unkind, forced him into a seat at the table, and roughly undid his handcuffs. Lou tried to get the blood flowing again by rubbing at the deep creases persisting on his aching wrists. His chair was slat-backed wood with a flat seat and no cushioning. Uncomfortable wouldn’t have done it credit.

Intimidate … terrify … control …

“Are you doing all right, doctor?” McCall asked.

Only then did Lou realize he was hyperventilating.

“No, I’m not doing all right. You guys are messing with me and I don’t like it, and I want to know what I’m doing here.”

The men sat down opposite him, their expressions disinterested.

“Look,” Vaill began. “We don’t want to do this dance. We’re on your side here. We want to help you out. But for us to help you, you’ve first got to help us.”

“How’s your buddy Duncan doing?” McCall asked. “You call him Cap, right?”

The statement was a warning. They knew things and could catch him in a lie.