'Do you know what the American vice-president called waterboarding?'
I couldn't be arsed to answer. It wasn't as if it was going to make my situation any better.
'A "dunk in the water", he said. He doesn't believe it's torture. Rather, a very important tool in the fight against terrorism. Do you know what I find incredible about that?'
Fuck him.
'It's that the Americans gaoled a Japanese officer in 1947 for waterboarding a US civilian during the war. They sentenced him to fifteen years' hard labour.'
He didn't wait for an answer. 'The only difficulty I have with the technique is that anyone will confess eventually – even to things he or she hasn't done. But where we want information, not a confession, I consider it very effective.'
The speaker boomed. He must have leant very close to his microphone. 'Where is the film?'
I stared at the floor. The bottoms of the chair legs had probably once been rubber-tipped. The steel had long since rusted from contact with the wet.
'I keep telling you – I don't know. I don't know what, when, who. I know fuck-all about what Dom's got himself into . . .'
'Of course, the problem we face is that some people get so desperate they begin telling you what they think you want to hear. I hope you won't waste our time by being one of those.'
'Look, I know fuck-all . . .'
'Stone, frankly, I've never liked you. You're arrogant, disrespectful and, even worse, you're disobedient. This is your last chance. My two men wanted to beat the life out of you, even before our Serbian friends began their work. But I said no. I wanted you to have the opportunity to save yourself.'
'Maybe I can find out from Dom. Put us together, give us some time. He trusts me.'
There was no response.
First there was total silence. Then I could make out his voice, but only faintly in the background, like he'd turned to talk to somebody else in his room, or take another call.
When he did speak again, there was an edge of triumph in his voice he couldn't disguise. 'Gentlemen—'
Trainers leant forward. 'Aye?'
'I've got the boy. Everything's changed. Repeat, I've got the boy. The Pole is now neutralized. Go and tell him. He'll take you straight to the film.'
'Stone?' Trainers was almost licking his lips.
'I have no further use for him. Kill him. Repeat, kill him.'
The red light went out. The two of them looked at each other.
I dropped my head.
Trainers laughed. 'You'll be more pissed off than that in a minute, boy.'
He moved behind me. The kick to the back of the chair was so hard I shot forward. My arse came right off the edge of the seat and dropped to the floor. The plasticuffs slid down the chair legs.
Sundance savoured the moment. 'Get on your knees and crawl to the board.'
I could hear them behind me, rocking the tabletop, playing with the straps.
'We're going to take you for a ride on this baby. But you should know, son, you're only getting a one-way ticket . . .'
My wrists strained against the metal. I closed my palms round the bottoms of the legs. I eased first one wrist free and then the other. I struggled to my knees.
'That's right, here, boy – walkies!'
I sprang to my feet and grabbed the seat of the chair. Swinging round, I squared up to them lion-tamer style, the chair positioned like a four-barrelled machine-gun.
Sundance's face hardened. 'Don't fuck about, son. You're only going to—'
It was his turn to be drowned out.
I yelled at the top of my voice and charged.
85
My shoulder sent Sundance flying. He lost his footing and tumbled over the waterboard.
Trainers' eyes widened as I hurtled him back against the wall. The tip of one of the legs dug into his stomach. He bellowed with pain and tried to grab it but I pushed as hard as I could.
His muscles couldn't resist any more. The skin gave suddenly, and the rough, rusty tip jumped forward six inches.
Sundance was struggling to his knees.
I let go of the chair. Trainers slid down the wall with the leg still embedded. His gaze was fixed on the entry wound. He looked puzzled.
I leant down and grabbed the wooden stool by one of its legs. The starship flew into the air as I swung the stool down hard on to the top of Sundance's skull. He dropped like I'd tasered him.
I clubbed him again, this time between the shoulders. The third blow smashed into the