He refocused her, squeezing her hand. “What did he look like?”
“The man was six feet tall, swarthy, black hair, hateful black eyes.”
Troy took her through a description of every terrorist. “What happened the day you were moved?”
Gwen shook her head vehemently.“I don’t want to.”
“I’m right here with you.” Troy dug deep to stay calm.They wanted me to feel. I’m going to tell them this sucks.
Her body rocked in the heavy chair. “I awoke to chaos. I was asleep in… in the leader’s bed. God forgive me. It was the only way I could hold on. Some days I hurt so bad, I let him do with me what he wanted. Just for a little relief and some sleep. I’m sorry. You must think I’m a whore,” she sobbed.
“Gwendolen, look at me. You are not a whore.” He tasted blood on his tongue as he bit himself to continue questioning her further. He knew he should have taken a step back, but he couldn’t imagine anyone else asking these questions.
“People were speaking in loud, anxious voices. Black Suburbans rolled into the encampment, six to a car. One group pulled a man in linen pajamas, wearing a hood and shackles, out of one of the vehicles. All the other men were dressed in black tactical dress with balaclavas and sunglasses.
“The leader and el-Saab went out to speak to them. Next thing I knew, I was handed over to two of them and tossed in a Suburban’s back seat. One yanked a hood over my head, and then we were moving. Along the way, I was offered an energy drink and protein bars. The men I was sitting between were wearing antiperspirant and cologne. After I ate, I felt a needle stick into my right arm, and I fell asleep.” Gwen leaned her head onto her hand and scrunched her eyes. “Something’s there. I can’t remember.”
“It will come.” He knew from experience. As he listened to her, he felt his world tipping off its axis. He felt horrible for her. Mac’s question:how are they supposed to feel? He wasn’t pitying her. He was in awe of her. “Where were you when you awakened?”
“A cell. Everything was metal. Sterile. The noises above me…women were begging for forgiveness, screaming about their families, praying, moaning. All in Arabic. Where I was, around me, I heard men begging for relief, praying to Allah, begging for them to stop, a whip, pained screams, a drill, electricity.
“A man in black and wearing a balaclava opened the door. ‘I see you are awake,’ he said. He made me remove my clothing and looked me over from head to toe. He frowned and left. A few minutes later two other men, dressed the same, came in, handcuffed me, and dragged me naked down a corridor. I begged to know what was going on. The two men tossed me in a room. A linen gown sat over a chair, and a towel and soap sat on the seat. It was a bathroom with hot running water. That was only decent moment while in their captivity. They were cleaner. They smelled better. The food was better. They spoke better English. Their torture was state of the art.”
“You are doing so well. I want you to jump ahead to the time before you were put in the wet cell. Can you do that?” Troy sensed her heading toward exhaustion.
“I’d been questioned again and again, sometimes for over twenty-four hours at a time by a man sitting in the corner. He questioned and watched the others torture me. Who were they? What were their plans? How many were there? Armaments? Supply chain? What did I give to them? Who was I working with? Was I a traitor? Where did I hide the information? Where was the item? If I didn’t have it, who had it? Thirty-five days, after caning the bottoms of my feet, waterboarding, whippings, stress positioning, electricity and sexual assaults, they still didn’t believe I’d given them all I knew.
“I was tied to a table. The first man wore a hood. He was somehow different from the other torturers. Mesh covered his eyes, leaving them unseeable. He moved to my head and ran his fingers through my hair. His fingers roamed my body. A second man stood at the door wearing all black with a gold balaclava.
“‘Answer our questions,’ he said. I wished I could. I’d answered all I knew about the first group, but I had no idea where or what the item was. He came into the room, stood against the wall and watched. I think he was a different watcher. Unlike every time before, his eyes glowed, like he was enjoying it. He nodded, and I felt the other man move to stand between my legs. His hands, they slid up my thighs. I thought he was going to rape me. Instead, buzzing. He shaved my pubic hair. And then he began to cut my… my… he… he took his time. He never spoke. My eyes locked onto the man in the corner. The more I begged, the happier he got. I…” She gulped for air.“He got aroused. But I still couldn’t tell them what they wanted. The man in the corner stood. I didn’t see it coming…two snips of a huge scissor and half of each breast was gone. I was gone.
Troy reached for her and rested his forehead against hers. “Look at me. The watcher. His eyes?”
She scrunched her eyes closed. Her breathing increased. “Blue…he had blue eyes.”
“The cutter. His hands.” Her body shook and sweat covered her. His resolve was ebbing. “His hands?”
“I can’t!”she yelled.
“Those hands hurt you. They held the scalpel and those scissors. You saw them.”
“Pale… they were pale. He was white.” Her eyes rolled in her head from hyperventilating and crying.
Troy stood, and with no thought, he lifted her into his arms. Sitting back down, he held her head to his chest. “I’ve got you. No more questions.”
Tim knocked a minute after Troy managed to text him. “Come in,” Troy said, feeling depleted. Gwen was between wakefulness and sleep in his arms, his shirt soaked with her tears and mucous.
Tim pressed his lips together. “I’ll take care of her.” He slid his arms beneath her to cradle her.
“I need time to talk to you later. I pushed her. I pushed myself. Could you send Trask and Wes in? If you can break Wes away from my mom,” Troy sighed.
Tim nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Seems one of the guys on 3-Romeo, Elias Speras, is Greek. Between Wes’s cooking skills and Elias’s stories, she’s laughing. And Troy, slow down. I’m worried.”
Me too.“Thanks.” The simple word stuck in his throat. He wasn’t numb anymore.
The pieces were coming together, but his gut sensed she was holding on to more. He needed to get into the office to run this by his colleagues.
Chapter 28
