“Enough,” Han said.

“But we don’t have a voiceprint yet,” Gao replied. “In fact, we don’t have anything, unless you want the robot to act out Romeo and Juliet or spout lines from American TV commercials.”

“He’s beaten you,” Han said. “Can’t you see that?”

Gao stared at his boss.

“He knows what you want,” Han explained, “and he’s willing to die rather than give it to you. He might even be goading you into killing him on purpose.”

“Okay,” Gao said. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Remove him from the equation,” Han said. “Finish the body panels and program Zavala’s robot to be mute unless addressed directly. Austin’s facsimile will do all the talking. It will be enough that Zavala is seen with him and caught on camera driving the getaway car.”

Gao looked frustrated, but he didn’t protest. “I can also upload a generic American voice just in case he has to say something.”

“Be quick about it,” Han said. “And tell my pilot we’re ready to leave.”

* * *

• • •

JOE LAY on the floor, exhausted, drenched in sweat and waiting for the next round of torture to begin. Each session of electrical shock had been longer and more painful than the last, each wave of muscle spasms worse than the one before. He felt as if he’d done a triathlon and wrestled a bear afterward for good measure, all without moving from the spot.

This will probably be the next wave in fitness training. Get the body of an Adonis without doing any work. Joe laughed at the thought, but the laughter hurt his chest and he stopped as quickly as he could.

Taking deep breaths to slow his heart rate and trying to still the trembling in his legs, it was a while before he realized the next session was overdue. A minute of silence stretched to several and Joe remained where he was. No demands came over the speakers, no new threats and not so much as a static shock from the metal plates.

A sense of satisfaction crept in. They’d given up. He’d worn them down and survived. He’d won.

The door opened and a pair of Han’s men came in to get him. They lifted him by the arms and hauled him up to his feet.

“No fight left in this one,” the first of the men said.

Not at the moment, Joe thought. It was an effort even to stand.

They marched him out of the room and into the tunnel. A strange sound was echoing off the walls. Joe realized it was the helicopter lifting off outside. Han was leaving, putting his plan in motion, while Kurt and Nagano were still chained up and Joe himself could hardly walk. His thoughts of victory felt suddenly premature.

They marched him down the tunnel, rounded a slight curve and closed in on the air shaft. Only now did Joe realize how dimly lit the tunnel really was, especially after the brightness of the room he’d been tortured in. He could barely make out Kurt and Nagano, sitting by the wall. And then he realized there was only one figure present. Kurt was gone.

52

JOE WAS THROWN to the ground as the guard realized he was missing a prisoner. He rushed forward, grabbed Nagano. “Where’s Austin?”

“What can I tell you?” Nagano said. “He escaped.


“How? Where did he go?”

“He slipped the chains,” Nagano said. “You must have given him too much slack.”

“And then he left you here?”

“Yes,” Nagano said, “the ingrate. After all my help and guidance.”

Kurt heard every word; he was only ten feet away, just below the lip of the air shaft. He knew what would come next. With his feet wedged against one of the wall anchors and his left arm wrapped around the pipe, he worked a stone loose from the wall and held it in his right hand.

“Not possible,” the guard insisted.