“Enough.” He slid Brodie’s and Taylor’s cell phones toward them. “Your codes.”
Brodie replied, “There’s no cell service here, Kyle.”
“Your codes.”
Brodie gave him his code, and Taylor did the same.
Mercer punched them in and looked through Brodie’s phone, then did the same with Taylor’s. “Lots of interesting texts and e-mails… I’ll need time to look through all this.”
“Take all the time you need,” Brodie said. “We can do it together.”
He looked at Taylor’s phone. “Aerial shots of Kavak… the river… Still not sure how you pinpointed Camp Tombstone…” He looked up. “That’s the name of my camp.”
Brodie didn’t think it was Camp Happy.
Mercer shut off both cell phones. “Don’t have electricity here, as you see, but I can get new batteries if I need to.” He continued, “We’re electronically silent here, which makes it difficult for NSA or anyone to find me.” He asked, “What brought you to Kavak?”
Brodie replied, “General Gomez.”
“He’s due here in a few days. I’ll ask him.”
Sounded to Brodie like a bluff—but if not, they had a problem. On the other hand, maybe they’d just bought a few days.
Mercer looked at Brodie. “Here’s the big question. If you lie, you die.” He asked, “Is there a military operation planned against this camp?”
Brodie replied, “I believe there is. And it will be influenced by Brendan Worley. And Brendan Worley takes no prisoners. He wants you dead, because dead men tell no tales. And maybe he wants me and Maggie dead, because maybe we heard things from you that he doesn’t want us to know. So we’re offering you a chance to come with us to Kavak. We have an aircraft there and a pilot who will take us to Bogotá, where you will be transferred to CONUS, where you will have an opportunity, in a judicial or non-judicial setting, to tell your side of the story.” He added, “Your prior service record, which is outstanding, will be taken into account. Your two-year imprisonment by the enemy will also be taken into account. And whatever crimes you may have committed or may know about—including the crimes of other military personnel—will be evaluated for further investigation.” He asked, “Am I making myself clear?”
Mercer had no response, but then stood and walked to the edge of the platform and looked at the river. “The Pemón have traversed these rivers and jungles for thousands of years. They form a network, a fabric of human Intel that is invisible to outsiders. I respect this history, and them as a people, and they respect me. And they know who is worthy of their loyalty.”
Brodie didn’t know if Mercer had heard a word he said, but then Mercer turned back to them. “There is no aircraft in Kavak. Your man, Captain Collins, was sent off—without his sat phone. He’s probably back in Caracas by now.”
Or dead. Brodie said, “There are other ways out of here.”
“Not for me. And not for you.”
Brodie was getting frustrated. “Kyle, get a fucking grip on yourself. Do you want to die here in a missile strike? Or in a firefight with your former Delta Force brothers? Because that’s what’s going to happen. Ms. Taylor and I are here to save you from being killed—silenced—by whoever it is that wants you and your story dead and buried. You want to get even with Worley for something? Do it in a civilized setting where the world can hear about it. The worst that could happen to you is getting the cell next to Worley.”
“I am not going to prison. Not ever again.”
“They serve bacon for breakfast, for God’s sake.” Brodie knew he wasn’t supposed to promise anything, but given that he and Taylor were in a bad place, he said to Mercer, “If you give yourself up voluntarily, I’m pretty sure you can get off with a few years for desertion.”
Mercer remained standing. “That’s a few years too many. You should also know that I tortured and killed a CIA officer named Robert Crenshaw in Peshawar.”
“We didn’t hear that.”
“You did. And I killed Haggerty. There’s no going back.”
“Okay… Then tell us why you killed those men.”
He smiled. “If I tell you, I have to kill you.”
“Well, then tell me why you didn’t kill Al Simpson.”
“He did nothing to me.”
“Okay, Captain, as long as you’re confessing, what did those civilians in Afghanistan do to you to make you kill them?”
Mercer stared at Brodie, then at Taylor.
